Welcome to Poetry Matters where I share poetic stanzas and paragraphs on relationships, motherhood, mental health, travel, education, storytelling, and sex-positivity. You can Follow Me on Medium or Instagram or Twitter. I am a Top Writer in Feminism and LGBTQ!
Casa de mi Corazón: A Travel Journal of Poetry & Memoir, is the journey of a young, Jewish Canadian woman who feels like a wandering Jewess traveling to Israel and Germany to learn more about her roots. As the granddaughter of Spanish Moroccan immigrants and Romanian Holocaust survivors, this Toronto native, navigates various landscapes of the past and present through…
As I see my soul reflected in Nature,
As I see through a mist, One with inexpressible completeness, sanity, beauty,
See the bent head and arms folded over the breast, the Female I see.
~ Walt, Whitman, I Sing the Body Electric
He sang her body
and the soul
Taking only what is granted
or mining for blood diamonds
rubies, emeralds, or gold
The female form is ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ e -l-e-c-t-r-i-c ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ he sang it felt it spoke it to cherish the gateway to life in all of its wonder curves…
The time between the
first and second lockdown
was like a lucid dream:
awake but not awake
dreaming but not dreaming
in control and out of control
sleeping and awakening
aware and unaware
knowing and not knowing
looking and finding
healing and minding
masking and unmasking
waiting and starting
stopping and going
Now that we’re in
the thick of the fog again
I can’t remember what
that dream was all about
it was like a pause
except it wasn’t a pause
it was a life ~ on hold ~
learning new dreams to dream:
how to hold them how to…
Instead of worrying about a “Reputation”
He broke up with me at the end of the summer of 1992. That summer I had gone to sleepover camp at the age of 13. We had just started a new friendship that grew into a relationship — and I was kind of crazy about him. But since we knew I was going to be making new friends and be away for a month (that was like forever at that age), he told me that there were no strings attached.
Even though he had agreed that I could meet a short-term boyfriend there…
I had a really great month of achievements here on Medium. During the month of February, I gained 150 new followers who I want to thank for their support, and I earned my first host of Top Writer Badges.
I earned my first badge in #Feminism at the start of the month. The stories that got me there include Tamar: A Biblical Story of Female Empowerment, How 18th Century Female Writers Reclaimed the “Whore”, as well as for my poem Sex Miseducation on women’s health. …
When I woke up my body was tingling all over and a tepid mist washed over me. My mind felt at peace and I had a satisfied grin on my face. I could still feel the rhythmic pulsations between my legs. I wanted to keep riding that wave. It’s spectacular how one can reach orgasm while sleeping without human touch. How’s that for a mind fuck? Imagine how glorious it would be to awaken from a lucid sex dream? But first, you need to learn how to lucid dream before you can eventually sexplore in la-la land, and maybe even…
Through my journey of recovering from a love-hate relationship with my body to one of self-compassion, I learned how to release internalized grief. I accomplished this shift in mindset by seeking wellness practitioners, listening to my body, and becoming comfortable enough to embrace nude beaches.
But before I got to this place, there were 4 experiences that led to this love-hate dynamic:
1) Having to justify not having a breast reduction.
2) Birthing and needing repeat C-sections.
3) Experiencing secondary infertility and recurrent miscarriages.
4) Struggling to accept my post-partum body.
Throughout my life, I have been pretty body-positive but…
The other night when my husband and I were talking about how I had become a Top Writer in Feminism, he said “But I don’t think of you as a feminist.” And I said, “When it comes to my thoughts on reclaiming female sexual empowerment, you think of me that way, right?” And he agreed. But then it made me think about all of the personal reasons that spurred me to define myself as a feminist, and so here they are in a stream of consciousness order:
I picture my abuela slumped over the hot oven, working hard day in…
Sometimes you just want
a pretty pound of flesh
like an undiscerning cannibal
and to hold
to feast and
to baste and to
to rub and to season
to marinade and to grill
just long enough
that it shrills!
like a lobster
splashing in the pan
I write poetic stanzas & paragraphs on Motherhood | Relationships | Mental Health | Travel | Education | Storytelling | Sex-Positivity | BA, BEd, MA in Lit.