Objectification

Objectification

Brave & Reckless

you sharpen your words
into knives
lovingly caressing blade
with whetting stone
until it can split hairs
your goal
to dismember
into assorted parts
a skilled
and enthusiastic butcher
you long to reduce
women to
arms
legs
feet
hands
breasts
pelvis
head
mouth taped firmly shut
blindfolded
to hide reproach
judgment
in our eyes
to diminish
disempower
silence

how terrified
you must be
of our wombs
our truths
our rage
to think that complete
objectification
nothing short of carving us like a
Thanksgiving turkey
can protect you

© 2017 Christine Elizabeth Ray – All Rights Reserved

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Creative Spotlight : Jess @Studio Reece

Fae Corps Publishing

Today I want to tell you about this wonderful creator… She works with clay, and paint, and multimedia art. She has a couple of coloring books available on amazon! She has made some incredible handmade journals and dice towers.

We asked her when she stared to create, and her response was exactly what I expected from someone as creative as her! She told us “As long as I can remember, I have needed to MAKE things.”
When asked what or who got her started, her response was “All the women on my mother’s side are amazingly talented and creative.”
We asked why did she choose to be an Indie Artist and her answer was perfect, she said “”I love to create” sounds trite, but it’s just true. There is something deep in my soul that calls to me every moment of every day to make something new in the world…

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Tuesday Tunes

Music has a power for most of us. Whether it is just a background in our lives or part of our soul. From the lullabies sung to us as children to the songs played at our funeral… Music is a strong part of life.

My great grandfather on my father’s side owned a country radio station when I was a kid. I got to spend a lot of time there, and doing various events for the station. It made the connection to music stronger for me.

I know many writer’s need music to help with the writing. For me I zone into the words and everything fades into the background. Still I think that music is something that I should acknowledge as a major part of sharing “me” with all of you. So that being said… I have decided to adding to the Tuesday rotation Tuesday Tunes. Tuesday Tunes will be where I choose a song that is sparking my attention and give you a link to the YouTube video, the lyrics, and maybe my thoughts. Obviously I will not be doing this every Tuesday but it will likely be a option that I will be doing.

Today, I want to start with a song that my daughter got stuck in my head.

Emily Finchum – Bones

Bones
Emily Finchum

[Verse 1]
Sometimes they find whole skeletons
Dug up from down below
They put the bones where they don’t fit
To make one of their own

[Verse 2]
They’re so set on what they want
The bones aren’t put where they belong
They go and put it on display
And say they’re anything but wrong

[Pre-Chorus]
You took the bones of a Tyrannosaurus Rex
And said that it was human
Now it’s needlessly complex

[Chorus]
The world is a museum filled with meaningless exhibits
And every gallery and hall is bustling with idiots
You think you’re so logical but you’re barely making sense
You can’t change what’s set in stone, or what’s inside your head

[Verse 3]
They dig them up from ruins
From things of long ago
Then they take your words and bury them
Six feet down below

[Verse 4]
They’re so set on what they think
They fail their archaeology
Instead, they’re just hypocrites
Who don’t make apologies

[Chorus]
The world is a museum filled with meaningless exhibits
And every gallery and hall is bustling with idiots
You think you’re so logical but you’re barely making sense
You can’t change what’s set in stone, or what’s inside your head

[Bridge]
There’s a fracture in the spine
“You’re wrong, victory is mine”
There’s a fracture in the spine
“You’re wrong, victory is mine”

[Chorus]
The world is a museum filled with meaningless exhibits
And every gallery and hall is bustling with idiots
You think you’re so logical but you’re barely making sense
You can’t change what’s set in stone, or what’s inside your head (2x)

[Bridge]
There’s a fracture in the spine
“You’re wrong, victory is mine”
There’s a fracture in the spine
“You’re wrong, victory is mine”

Thoughts ~ this song speaks to my introverted nature. It talks about the falseness that seems to permeate society today. It has an interesting beat.

Writing Dark Poetry

Writing Dark Poetry

As a poet whose poetry is often dark… I totally agree with this.

Paper Beats World

Often poetry is bright. It’s a warm morning curled up in bed, or a piece of pie shared between two kids who normally fight nonstop. It’s a celebration of our bodies, or a glorification of the fleeting minutes in our lives. Poetry seems dedicated to the greatness of life, the depth of life.

Life’s not always great. Sometimes, life is horrible, dark, unhappy, depressed. That’s where Dark Poetry comes into play.

I love Dark Poetry, because I love honest poetry. I love a real moment, shared with someone else. And when you think about it, a dark poem is a quite intimate thing. It’s one thing to share your great, bright moments with others. That’s something we do all the time. Social media is full of the bright moments. The birthdays and big wins. The bright new lipsticks and after gym pics.

We don’t share the loses. The nights sitting…

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Story Ideas….


*image obtained from Google for inspiration only.

From Serena-

So I was reading various things on tumblr… Just for fun. And the suggestion was made that perhaps Medusa always had the snake hair and scales. This got me thinking of her as a possible antihero… So I did a start. Just a teaser if you will. Let me know what you think. If it is well received I will have to try and finish it.

His hand raised, ready to strike, caused her to look away. After a few moments of no pain, Diana dared to look up at him. He was still in the same place, oddly it looked as though he had not moved at all. The light was poor in their home, still Diana could have sworn he was grey instead of his natural tan skin. After a moment more she dared to reach out to touch him.
Shocked at how cold and solid he was, Diana quickly pulled her hand back. Diana turned to see if she could determine the reason for this change. Standing in the doorway was the most beautiful person she had ever laid eyes upon. Long legs covered by an iridescent sheen. A leather skirt that barely covered to her knees. The stranger had a sword, and a dagger hanging from her waist, giving an even more aggressive feel to the lean, muscular frame. The stranger had all the curves that men seemed to want, and none of the modesty that ladies are expected to have. Her large bust was loosely covered by a leather wrap that quite matched the skirt she was wearing. The doorway was too dark to make out the features of the face, but Diana was easily able to see the hair.
At Diana’s startled gasp, Medusa softly whispered. “ Do not fear. I will not harm you. I only am here to rescue you. Gather your things! I will take you somewhere that is safe so you can live freely.” Her snakes were slithering around her face and head slowly as she spoke.