Marigold was chosen as one of the 23 winners (out of about 500 entries!) for the 2010 Tucson Festival of Books Writing Contest for her story "Rubber Shoes".
Congratulations Grrl!
Wednesday, March 24, 2010
Friday, January 29, 2010
Violet's PSA
Violet's PSA from the fall workshop - check it out! And congratulations to all the grrls from the fall for a wonderful workshop, and a fantastic showcase!
Grrls Literary Activism / Violet's PSA from Jamie A. Lee on Vimeo.
Who Am I?
Mattea's video PSA from the fall workshop - check it out!
Grrls Literary Activism / Mattea's PSA from Jamie A. Lee on Vimeo.
Saturday, December 26, 2009
Irrational as Pi
Miki's video PSA from the fall workshop - check it out!
Grrls Literary Activism / Miki's PSA from Jamie A. Lee on Vimeo.
Marigold's video PSA
Marigold' video PSA from the fall workshop - check it out!
Grrls Literary Activism / Marigold's PSA from Jamie A. Lee on Vimeo.
Thursday, September 17, 2009
Map Poem by Robin
I was driving head first
Splashing in Villa Rica
When you caught me in your arms
Traveling up through Vester and Point Peter
Through the Appalachians to my Walnut Grove
You traveled along the 83
And landed somewhere between Roswell and Forest Park
You set up camp in Youth
Lingering on route 85
Sliding softly through the russet folds of Bethlehem
You clung tightly to Atlanta
The Only star in the sky
Your fingertips screaming as you dug through Washington
Yoking together two halves of one rocky mountain
You would spend the winter months
Swimming along the tips of Lincoln
Blue blue as the soft Braswell falls.
Your eyes still stinging
Drops of saltwater
A river, an ocean
The last traces of Madres
Come with me, sir, and we can camp
Hide along the coast
Find our palms in Atlanta
With summer’s sweet Zinnia’s behind Billarn
-Robin S.
Splashing in Villa Rica
When you caught me in your arms
Traveling up through Vester and Point Peter
Through the Appalachians to my Walnut Grove
You traveled along the 83
And landed somewhere between Roswell and Forest Park
You set up camp in Youth
Lingering on route 85
Sliding softly through the russet folds of Bethlehem
You clung tightly to Atlanta
The Only star in the sky
Your fingertips screaming as you dug through Washington
Yoking together two halves of one rocky mountain
You would spend the winter months
Swimming along the tips of Lincoln
Blue blue as the soft Braswell falls.
Your eyes still stinging
Drops of saltwater
A river, an ocean
The last traces of Madres
Come with me, sir, and we can camp
Hide along the coast
Find our palms in Atlanta
With summer’s sweet Zinnia’s behind Billarn
-Robin S.
Haiku by Robin
A summer apple
Round and full dripping sweet juice
Snap, fall, tumble. Rest.
River in a river
Lilypad meanders
Whooshing sweetly by
Swirl, swirl, stop
Lazy circles as it falls
Crunch underneath
Sunday afternoon
Cherry trees and lemonade
Sour, tart, stolen kiss
Eye lashes and lips
Shaved pits and period pants
A woman’s burden
I can’t hear you
Mr. Little Red Dot
I told you to stop stalking me
Pain as a color
Goddess Pose and tampax pearl
Jam out to Bob Dylan
-Robin S.
Round and full dripping sweet juice
Snap, fall, tumble. Rest.
River in a river
Lilypad meanders
Whooshing sweetly by
Swirl, swirl, stop
Lazy circles as it falls
Crunch underneath
Sunday afternoon
Cherry trees and lemonade
Sour, tart, stolen kiss
Eye lashes and lips
Shaved pits and period pants
A woman’s burden
I can’t hear you
Mr. Little Red Dot
I told you to stop stalking me
Pain as a color
Goddess Pose and tampax pearl
Jam out to Bob Dylan
-Robin S.
Poem split by Isabella S.
Left side:
Linda Blair is being
Interviewd on television.
The movie scene….
And after start in a
Pornography double take.
It was a boy mystery:
I watch her eagerly,
She’s on the bed,
The mother walks in appalled.
Little creep is on the crucifix
Over her head…
In between her and Linda agaon.
I didn’t know
And I think at that age,
I was just around
For the douche and the blow job.
Giggles
What is it, right?
She was eleven years
Old in panic,
Up to find you coated in blood
I don’t know…
I just remember eight years later…
I watch her face stunned.
You know who does it?
Me in my sleep.
I wait shifting,
Two women rubbing together,
The car in the Safehouse parking lot
Moving up and down.
The Right Side:
I finally understand, Watch the Exorcist.
I flip the channels
I catch the lines:
“most controversial”
that proposals and I give.
Those old Hardies
Would read to me in Linda Blair’s pants.
And the scene cuts,
The hideous bed
Wielding before plunging in legs.
The scene cuts
And Blair speaks at what masturbation was.
Niether did I know
A word that floated days….
Words like: “masturbion”
And enquires, “you know right?”
It’s just a word to me
Linda Blair was eleven when
She filmed that scene.
When I went up
One morning, very unexpected,
My hand and fingers…
I just woke up where it came from.
Your expression mom,
You can see it again on
The interview, the mother in horror.
Do Linda Blair on television.
And the woman on the third floor
In her stockings at the YMCA.
And the girls in the parking lot
In the back seat.
Oh the horror.
-Isabella S.
Linda Blair is being
Interviewd on television.
The movie scene….
And after start in a
Pornography double take.
It was a boy mystery:
I watch her eagerly,
She’s on the bed,
The mother walks in appalled.
Little creep is on the crucifix
Over her head…
In between her and Linda agaon.
I didn’t know
And I think at that age,
I was just around
For the douche and the blow job.
Giggles
What is it, right?
She was eleven years
Old in panic,
Up to find you coated in blood
I don’t know…
I just remember eight years later…
I watch her face stunned.
You know who does it?
Me in my sleep.
I wait shifting,
Two women rubbing together,
The car in the Safehouse parking lot
Moving up and down.
The Right Side:
I finally understand, Watch the Exorcist.
I flip the channels
I catch the lines:
“most controversial”
that proposals and I give.
Those old Hardies
Would read to me in Linda Blair’s pants.
And the scene cuts,
The hideous bed
Wielding before plunging in legs.
The scene cuts
And Blair speaks at what masturbation was.
Niether did I know
A word that floated days….
Words like: “masturbion”
And enquires, “you know right?”
It’s just a word to me
Linda Blair was eleven when
She filmed that scene.
When I went up
One morning, very unexpected,
My hand and fingers…
I just woke up where it came from.
Your expression mom,
You can see it again on
The interview, the mother in horror.
Do Linda Blair on television.
And the woman on the third floor
In her stockings at the YMCA.
And the girls in the parking lot
In the back seat.
Oh the horror.
-Isabella S.
Map Poem by Isabella S.
I hated Tucson.
It never curled right.
I might as well just cut I 10 to I 19
I don’t care if Tombstone, Bisbee or Douglas
Ever grew back, and I don’t know why
My family made such a bitch about the suggested.
The Gulf of California was always
well behaved. It teased right and
didn’tfriz. It would be a shame to cut off those flirtarious Gulfs
I just have to cut them too.
Sierra San Pedro Martir
Was determined when I
Walked into the tattoo shop.
I kept the Sonora Valley
As blank as possible,
Hoping the Sonoytas
And Punta Prietas wouldn’t
Turn on me and show my nerves
As I confronted the tattoo artist.
He eyed me from Sonora to Tamaulipas
And asked me to take a seat on the bench.
I lay down and lifted my skirt,
Zacatecas and Monterrey were
Trying not to twitch
As we warmed up the machine, needle buzzing.
At the first touch of the needle
On Juan Aldoma the Gulf of Mexico
Clenched and curled,
Trying to keep the rest of Mexico still
~Isabella S.
It never curled right.
I might as well just cut I 10 to I 19
I don’t care if Tombstone, Bisbee or Douglas
Ever grew back, and I don’t know why
My family made such a bitch about the suggested.
The Gulf of California was always
well behaved. It teased right and
didn’tfriz. It would be a shame to cut off those flirtarious Gulfs
I just have to cut them too.
Sierra San Pedro Martir
Was determined when I
Walked into the tattoo shop.
I kept the Sonora Valley
As blank as possible,
Hoping the Sonoytas
And Punta Prietas wouldn’t
Turn on me and show my nerves
As I confronted the tattoo artist.
He eyed me from Sonora to Tamaulipas
And asked me to take a seat on the bench.
I lay down and lifted my skirt,
Zacatecas and Monterrey were
Trying not to twitch
As we warmed up the machine, needle buzzing.
At the first touch of the needle
On Juan Aldoma the Gulf of Mexico
Clenched and curled,
Trying to keep the rest of Mexico still
~Isabella S.
Poems by Sam
The map of my hand
You never needed to know.
The problem usually starts around Lake Manon
And spreads down I-95 to Florence and Sumbter
Sometimes
It even gets up to Columba
And the battle
Waged at the Union,
Left an ever lasting scar.
-Sam H.
You never needed to know.
The problem usually starts around Lake Manon
And spreads down I-95 to Florence and Sumbter
Sometimes
It even gets up to Columba
And the battle
Waged at the Union,
Left an ever lasting scar.
-Sam H.
Map Poem by Miki
One time you made the Noatak
Run down my Schwatha Mountains
Eyes of Ambler
When you told me Alberta was waiting for you
On the other side of the border
Was my crooked creek too crooked?
I felt like Juneau
With the disappointment, rage, and lack of surprise.
My Kuskokwim aching with the Red Devil
I Anviked you in the Rocky Mountains.
You could hire said something
Before your Iditarod hit my Continental Divide.
-Miki
Run down my Schwatha Mountains
Eyes of Ambler
When you told me Alberta was waiting for you
On the other side of the border
Was my crooked creek too crooked?
I felt like Juneau
With the disappointment, rage, and lack of surprise.
My Kuskokwim aching with the Red Devil
I Anviked you in the Rocky Mountains.
You could hire said something
Before your Iditarod hit my Continental Divide.
-Miki
Poems by Chandler M.
Haiku
Flowers slowly emerge
Open and close like clockwork
Their cycle begins.
Loose jeans and chocolate
Constant checks at your behind
Four more days to go.
~Chandler M.
Map Poems Summer Workshop
An ever endless amount of sympathy
Whether you be 15 or 50
You send your heart out
To your white brain, and black sisters
Knowing the cramps and exhaustion they’ll enudure
All you can offer is a hug or a kind hand
On their shoulder.
~Chandler M.
Flowers slowly emerge
Open and close like clockwork
Their cycle begins.
Loose jeans and chocolate
Constant checks at your behind
Four more days to go.
~Chandler M.
Map Poems Summer Workshop
An ever endless amount of sympathy
Whether you be 15 or 50
You send your heart out
To your white brain, and black sisters
Knowing the cramps and exhaustion they’ll enudure
All you can offer is a hug or a kind hand
On their shoulder.
~Chandler M.
Period Haikus by Isabella S.
You should invest
in black underwear. Don’t get
up till everyone leaves.
Smile while you hurt
And be sure to let him know
You need new Lysol.
How self assured
With your wad of money
And wad of cotton.
Douche powder and small
Waists equal success.
Be sure to smile.
by Isabella S.
in black underwear. Don’t get
up till everyone leaves.
Smile while you hurt
And be sure to let him know
You need new Lysol.
How self assured
With your wad of money
And wad of cotton.
Douche powder and small
Waists equal success.
Be sure to smile.
by Isabella S.
Thursday, July 30, 2009
Wednesday, July 1, 2009
2-Day Workshop
SUMMERTIME 2-DAY WORKSHOP + ART ACTION: WRITING THE BODY
July 24-25
Fri 12:30-5pm, Sat 12:30-4pm
Totally FREE! No charge, Gratis...
Facilitated by poet Ann Dernier
located at the Volunteer Center of Southern Arizona
924 N Alvernon Way, just south of Speedway
Workshop: your prose and poetry! This is an excellent opportunity for creative writing and to work closely with an established poet.
Art Action: Time to rejuvenate the Grrls' refurbished tampon dispenser. Our tampon machine is a mobile and functioning art sculpture. It is filled with tampons and maxipads with poems attached to the individual lady products.
Contact Brooke: brooke (at) korepress.org or call 327-2127 for more info, and to get a simple application form
July 24-25
Fri 12:30-5pm, Sat 12:30-4pm
Totally FREE! No charge, Gratis...
Facilitated by poet Ann Dernier
located at the Volunteer Center of Southern Arizona
924 N Alvernon Way, just south of Speedway
Workshop: your prose and poetry! This is an excellent opportunity for creative writing and to work closely with an established poet.
Art Action: Time to rejuvenate the Grrls' refurbished tampon dispenser. Our tampon machine is a mobile and functioning art sculpture. It is filled with tampons and maxipads with poems attached to the individual lady products.
Contact Brooke: brooke (at) korepress.org or call 327-2127 for more info, and to get a simple application form
Saturday, May 9, 2009
Tuesday, May 5, 2009
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
dissemination: tracts spotted!
"Saw some of your awesome pamphlets at Brooklyn Pizza. I had forgotten they were out there, so it was an awesome surprise when I saw your little trademark down at the bottom.
Tell the [Grrls] AWESOME job, I loved the stuff!"
--Michelle
Tucson, AZ
Tell the [Grrls] AWESOME job, I loved the stuff!"
--Michelle
Tucson, AZ
Rapunzel, Revised & Reappropriated
Rapunzel, Revised & Reappropriated
Rapunzel was sick of being locked away
at the top of a witch's stone tower.
She was tired of tripping over hair
when she dragged it across the dusty floor.
She didn't want to wait for some prince to come
and tug on her hair to carry her away to safety.
Her hair dangled and swayed, the ends falling down
to what she noticed was a loose floorboard.
And under that floorboard she found
a machete from the witch's safari days.
Rapunzel thought of trees and vines that encompassed her
and monkeys who never came to her rescue
As she sliced the machete through the top of her long, neat braid.
She felt relief as she climbed her hair down the side of the tower.
She thought of a carefree Tarzan swinging through the jungle on a vine.
Three hours later, the prince cantered by on a pearlescent steed.
He shouted to Rapunzel's window as he climbed up her hair,
making excuses about traffic and how he had a horrible day at work.
He climbed atop the windowsill and all he found
of Rapunzel was the long, silken braid tied to a bedpost.
The rest of her was trekking through
the forest with a machete in her teeth.
Rapunzel was sick of being locked away
at the top of a witch's stone tower.
She was tired of tripping over hair
when she dragged it across the dusty floor.
She didn't want to wait for some prince to come
and tug on her hair to carry her away to safety.
Her hair dangled and swayed, the ends falling down
to what she noticed was a loose floorboard.
And under that floorboard she found
a machete from the witch's safari days.
Rapunzel thought of trees and vines that encompassed her
and monkeys who never came to her rescue
As she sliced the machete through the top of her long, neat braid.
She felt relief as she climbed her hair down the side of the tower.
She thought of a carefree Tarzan swinging through the jungle on a vine.
Three hours later, the prince cantered by on a pearlescent steed.
He shouted to Rapunzel's window as he climbed up her hair,
making excuses about traffic and how he had a horrible day at work.
He climbed atop the windowsill and all he found
of Rapunzel was the long, silken braid tied to a bedpost.
The rest of her was trekking through
the forest with a machete in her teeth.
Truisms/Six words:
Grass is the umbilical cord connecting my bare feet to the Earth.
Buy yourself a better personality.
Throw me around like a ragdoll
Nothing for me today, huh sir?
Whale blubber makes you smell good.
Fish scales make your lips pretty.
Can't bring myself to leave it.
Lost my voice; found it again.
Arrogant men are like erections; they make a mess all over the place if you don't keep them under control.
Blueprint was beautiful but structurally unsound/a beautiful blueprint but structurally unsound.
Summer: short hair again, tank tops.
Good jeans. Warm soil, cool grass.
Yoga's the answer in many situations.
'Says I look determined when angry.
Not letting myself get distracted, anymore.
-Miki
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)



