I am the clatter of stilettos on concrete,
The sheen of glittering clothes,
Bathrooms foggy with hairspray and perfume,
The pink ribbon tangled in your hair,
Threaded between your teeth.
I am your ar...
You know the kind.
She takes her panties off but you're scrubbing at the pie tin, the aluminum pie tin, because you don’t want to be wasteful. You're scrubbing at the pie tin with steel wool, and sh...
this is a quiet acknowledgement
of running a hand over skin to see if it is soft
and over a body to see if it is full
and of measuring the size but more importantly the consistency of breasts
and ...
Once upon a time
Someone told
Me that a waltz with him
Would be the end
But we all know that that prompted the flappers and
world war
to hear them talk
children laughing, the
teasing is and ha...
Tori Amos just wrote a beautiful a piece for The Guardian's Observer. She speaks, as a victim of sexual assault, how her life was shaped by the incident, the dangers of masculinity standards and the m...
Meiko, born and raised in Roberta, Georgia (population: 808), has the classic story of a girl with talent from a small town. She honed her skills by singing at church, little league baseball parks and...
Clearly there is discrimination against women in the film industry. Hell, if Ela Thier’s open letter didn’t make that clear enough, the associations most of society has with “Hollywood” and “women” sh...
This week I'm going for Bat for Lashes. She's relatively new on the scene but I totally dig her.
According to her website Bat for Lashes is "the work of British singer/ songwriter, multi- instrument...
Alright, I'm ready to start a weekly series. Every Sunday (unless I forget and it's a different day...which will happen) I'm going to feature an up and coming new female artist that we should all supp...
Go check out Urbindex- he's a great musician and also a great guy (I've known him forever).
Here's one of his songs: sweet dreams.
He's on iTunes too- just search Urbindex....
Your fingers dig deep into my skin
cold and calloused, they didn’t seem apt for impalement before
but sticking from my sides are the words you leave me with
twisting my organs into ice as the sink ...
My gift cannot be seen or sung, but can be heard. I am a writer, but also I consider myself a performing artist because I perform my poems in front of my cohorts in school and other poets and artists ...