Grrrl Chillin

Grrrl Chilling Studio by J.A. Kauppinen

As I sit down to write this #MondayBlog today, I realize I am late. However, I won’t worry about that. I’m getting one in long before Tuesday, which makes me happy. Speaking of joy, I feel good today. Why am I happy, you ask? Especially when: There are 540 fires burning in my province and, even in Vancouver, the air quality is BC’s worst in history and the worst in the world. I am stuck indoors in hot temperatures (no air con) because I don’t want to risk endangering my health any more than it already is. I would love…

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In Honour of My Friend Who Is In Stage Four – One of Her Favourite Poets

Fear Fear of seeing a police car pull into the drive. Fear of falling asleep at night. Fear of not falling asleep. Fear of the past rising up. Fear of the present taking flight. Fear of the telephone that rings in the dead of night. Fear of electrical storms. Fear of the cleaning woman who has a spot on her cheek! Fear of dogs I’ve been told won’t bite. Fear of anxiety! Fear of having to identify the body of a dead friend. Fear of running out of money. Fear of having too much, though people will not believe this….

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How Do You Change When You Are Writing?

How do I change when I am writing? With great difficulty. It depends on three vital points. Where am I writing? While on the Skytrain with hundreds of bodies—a few religiously unwashed–pressing against me, cutting off my air. Do I sit between a staunchly stoic older couple in a tiny Aquabus, which heaves against the water en route to Granville Island? Perhaps I am in a meeting in the matchbox-sized grey Quaker church opposite my place. How am I writing? The options are my phone, laptop, a pen, or using my best friend’s phone with the voice activated android assistant….

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Lean Into Me

As I stand small in my own forest, on the shaky feet of an infirm body, I close my eyes, pretending I am one of them. I hear the rustle of leaves, like a quiet shifting of papers on my desk, a pleasant sound to me. In that, I imagine they’re saying, “She’s okay, mate.” My body quakes but I still stand. My legs are like jelly. I wish for the power to maintain my balance, while I hear ‘Lean In’ whispered on the breeze. I do. Birds sing a familiar melody and I inhale deeply. I look around with…

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Tender and Warm

She is tender and warm. Arrives on a morning fresh Without light knock or bell Like a whiff of tea and toast Upon a hot summer breeze. She is tender and warm. We perch on auburn-dabbed cliffs, shoulder against shoulder Study each other sideways. Relax, with breath abated An odd-looking pair, yet Somehow finely matched. She is tender and warm. Our bodies crumple in a fit of laughs. With our heels, we plough small Rocks along and off the dusty edge. Languish in and read saucy prose Savour a bookish kind of bliss. She is tender and warm. Inside, I…

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Cafe Paranoia – Terry Gibson

What do you want? What is it you want? As your amethyst eyes Slither over my face Paw my neckline Denting my nonchalance My demeanour so cool – You’d swear I drank milk. What do you want? What is it you want? Do you assume me Your answer, so easily? Nanny, lost sister, Your ‘other half’ gone missing So vital but unnoticed Till you’re about forty-three. What do you want? I must know what you want! As you approach me with gall, Crossing unspeakable lines– At last the secret spills From a so-kissable mouth What is it you want? Aw,…

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After A While – Veronica A. Shoffstall

After A While After a while you learn the subtle difference between holding a hand and chaining a soul and you learn that love doesn’t mean leaning and company doesn’t always mean security. And you begin to learn that kisses aren’t contracts and presents aren’t promises and you begin to accept your defeats with your head up and your eyes ahead with the grace of woman, not the grief of a child and you learn to build all your roads on today because tomorrow’s ground is too uncertain for plans and futures have a way of falling down in mid-flight….

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Letter to Grandma – Kiran A. Thakare

Leaving you There in the jaw of cruel niyati thousands of miles away I came here to strengthen my beliefs and to return to fight your war my war at home.   Now three years have passed you wrote me “I am anxious to see you come home soon” I lied to you, saying “Aattya I can’t come home now I have some last moments’ work to do.” I hide from you Yes Aattya! I am trying to make some money to buy you a gift.   The thought of my return rejoices me how proud you will be to…

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Dry Spell

Since attending Commonweal in July 2011, my year was anything but a dry spell, especially in comparison to the previous fifteen. However, there were times where work had me spent; it seemed my creative juices had just evaporated. During these times, I hovered somewhere between depression and a deep anxiety that I was all washed up before I even started. I wrote many pieces only to delete. Delete. Delete. Enter my second retreat under the awesome and skilled guidance of Laura Davis. It could not have come a day too soon. Prior to that, I aspired to be a gabby social…

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What Is My Purpose?

Sometimes I ask: What is my purpose in life? Why am I here while my brothers are not?   Why did all that awful stuff happen to me if I did not deserve it? To us? Why does it happen to so many? And then Oprah’s Life Class questions came up again. Am I stuck on my story?  Do I expect people to feel sorry for me? What do I want to accomplish by sharing my stories? What do I know? I want to harm no one. I want to help girls and women whose lives may mirror mine in…

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