POETRY
HEAR ME!
HEAR WHAT I'M NOT SAYING
HEAR THE CRYING OF MY FRIGHTENED SELF HEAR THE LONGING TO BE HELD AND LOVED
DON'T JUST HEAR THE WORDS
LISTEN
PLEASE
LISTEN
TO THE FRUSTRATION
THE FRIGHT IN MY GROWING
HEAR WHAT I'M NOT SAYING
Pinocchio stood on my roof
and laughed.
He laughed at my name and my faith.
My faith and my people. He knew only my mother, yet he claimed all he could.
He took away my love
and ate my food.
He stole my dignity.
Now I am a vegetable. BROCCOLI.
Jane E. Caruso
I. I take the q-tip
and stroke my lips.
They are moist tonight.
As darkness unfolds
my lips open.
I dare not plunge my fingers
between the lips.
I will wait
sue holton.
Holding on the ledge
with her fingertips
she said casually
to her neighbor.
'Have you got a cigarette?'
He whipped one out.
and lit it for her.
The air became nervously silent
Finally he said,
'When's this going to end?'
Shying away she said.,
'What's that supposed to mean?'
He sneezed,
and smiling,
pushed her off the ledge.
Grabbing her cigarette
out of her hand
before she fell.
Jane E. Caruso
page 4/What She Wants/December, 1974
a mat
clean off your dirt
on me
walk all over
me
stamp on
me
mutilate me
destroy me
does it make you any
better?
feelings
hurt
tossed
thrown
molded
mixed
happy
sad
played with
feelings...
emotions caused by...
reactions
attitudes expressions gestures situations
... people
Pat Tabak
for another night
when I am more daring
to explore myself.
to explore my self.
II.I spread my legs apart to enter the bus.
It is hot
and moist.
I spread my lips apart,
I smell the sweat.
The bus jerks,
the tires roll through
the sticky, melting asphalt.
The bus reverberates.
It vibrates my lips.
My womb is empty-
hollow, a hollow cavity.
The cavity vibrates.
Stop
It is thrust backward
into place
where it has always been
until now.
Karen Tierk
I cannot give of myself totally for if I did
there would be nothing left, for me
I must keep some of myself to myself alone
secret from the rest of the world
yes
Moving
I empty my house, trying to leave you,
tired of seeing in mirrors
broken images of myself.
The movers come
and wrap the round silver shapes in papers,
crate the marble coffee table carefully,
and take wide low steps
when they walk
under my queen -sized mattress.
Sandra Love
Mother: Daughter
I know who she is,
my daughter,
as she toddles after me, grabs my legs,
even secret from you
pushes through thighs she came through.
Each day I comb her hair,
turn her skirt right side out, fit her socks around
her fat pink toes.
She likes my suede jacket
to rub;
she puts it on, flapping
its empty sleeves.
She sticks marshmallows into her mouth,
and on her cheeks they dry
like etchings.
When she hurts,
she cries with her three-year-old soul,
Sandra Love
sue holton