Wordgrove Post & Review

Quoted in the Grove:
Smart women speaking makes many men angry. Looking back I see that this has been a leitmotif of my life. This may not surprise you, but it surprises me, every time.
~Elizabeth Farrelly

I myself have never been able to find out precisely what feminism is: I only know that people call me a feminist whenever I express sentiments that differentiate me from a doormat.
~Rebecca West

I ask no favors for my sex… All I ask of our brethren is that they will take their feet from off our necks.
~Sarah Moore Grimke

EndQuote:
Women tend to be conservative in youth and get more radical as they get older because they lose power with age. So if a young woman is not a feminist, I say, ‘Just wait.’
~Gloria Steinem

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Posted from the Grove:

Song from The Epic Of Gilgamesh – Oldest work of literature, in ancient Sumerian, with translation (3:55)
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QUcTsFe1PVs

Oldest Known Melody: Hurrian Hymn no.6   (c.1400 B.C. – 5:42)
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QpxN2VXPMLc

~Carl Sagan: The Pale Blue Dot   (5:58)
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3i2y4sEQpRI

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Prewritten for Thurs 01/25 (6:00pm PT/9 ET) is a Theme: ambivilent

 

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@Writers Platform:
Glass Table:

~Greymane: Moon Flight Night

Crimson crescent moon alive with Winter in his hair
He rode the starry tide into the silence of the air
He watched the silly Earth below and marveled at her fame
He fell in love each night but kept his distance just the same

On a never ending journey from horizon past the sky
He lights the night unsatisfied but never says goodbye
Across the silent sea of time but hiding from the sun
Somewhere past the atmosphere the lunar lantern spun
He loved the Earth so faithfully and swore to share her flight
Beside her for eternity forever in the night

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Prewritten: (01/18) ~ Theme: side-eye, or thespian

~Greymane: Thespalonian I

I watched a sad play
A lonely old thespian
barely knew her lines

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Nother Nora

A legend on the bright marquee
A talent so sublime
A thespian of fine degree
The Meryl of her time
She graced the silent silver screen, The world knew her name
The movie’s undisputed queen of Hollywood and fame
They loved her and they shared her pain
They hated her and cried
She sold her soul to entertain and got what that implied
For twenty years she rode the wave of privileged upper-crust
The demon then reminded her of what they had discussed
He told her what she promised him and he showed her where she

signed
Another Nora Desmond on the way to lose her mind

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~BarTalk: November

Gays giving guys the gaze
Straight take is side-eye
Politics is cross-eyed
Let’s be enabled to run
Lesbians able to win

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Scarlet

Deep kiss per the script
Bee stung lips and no tip
To the iceberg below ship
Cruelly accurate lesbian
Nailed it as a thespian

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Prewritten (01/11) ~ Choose 2 of 3: transparent, swarthy, needle

~Greymane: Things I Need

Transparent walls to shelter me before I disappear
Between the things that bury me with everything I fear
Wings above a rising tide that freezes from within
Sewn with rusty needles to the fabric of my skin
Comfort in my darkest night as long as light permits
Passage through the only dream a lonely traveler gets

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~BarTalk: easy out

transgress with a needle
plunged poison in a vein
finding proof in a bottle
transparent in a vial
swarthy hero last refrain

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Twice 5-7-5

new transparenting
needles, gender piercing nudes
swarthy ginger beauts

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need’ll conquer naught
must lose, ’tis transparent, to
swarthy hooded death

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Impromptu: winter

~Greymane: Everything She Needs

Winter painted frozen breath on everything she needs
She called the wind from where it’s been before the Summer bleeds
She waited so discreetly that she barely made a wave
From where she’d been she measured when the seasons dared behave
She wraps her frozen tendrils ’round her frigid sacrifice
Winter cold from what she knows will blanket you in ice

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~Matttt: Shitty-ku

~ It is crisp tonight…
~ Air an extra shade of black.
~ Walking, snow crunches

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~BarTalk: 5-7-5

cold wet empty streets
January thaw at end
snowfall by midnight

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clouds before the rain
undulating worm of fog
crawls the low foothills

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