Women’s History Month: A Salute

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Comments (3)

On March 10, 2010 at 8:23 pm Sina Queyras wrote:

Not a lot of women in the surrealist movement though, Sotere. Yes, women do take care, and tell stories, but what about as colleagues? Not mothers, and aunts, not taking care of the male artist but as colleagues. I’m just saying!

I saw a show in Manchester recently of surrealist women artists. Amazing. And so amazing to see them all together, as if they were collegial. I don’t think that was actually the case, but it was a nice fantasy and wonderful to just to see that number of women artists in one gallery.

Thanks Sotere, always good to hear your voice, and your reflections. And now to read your poems, because I have them in my hand.

On March 12, 2010 at 12:30 pm joanna migdal wrote:

So glad to see an acknowledgment of Women’s History Month! In honor of famous female poets who have passed, I have collaged their lines into a form of a “Cento”, a form that is making a comeback acc. to David Lehman. I hope everyone enjoys this tribute!

“Patchwork”

Lady, make a note of this: Dorothy Parker, “Unfortunate Coincidence”
The heart asks more than life can give. SaraTeasdale, “Moonlight”

There’s just no accounting for happiness. Jane Kenyon, “Happiness”
I have gone, out a possessed witch, Anne Sexton, “Her Kind”
I eat men like air. Sylvia Plath, “Lady Lazarus”
Many things are better flavored with bacon. Lorine Niedecker, “Poet’s Work”

Now for a little I have fed on loneliness, May Sarton, “Words on the Wing”
Pang after pang again and again, Christina Rossetti, “Introspection”
But I am completely nourished. Amy Lowell, “Decade”

I have wanted other things more than lovers. Kay Boyle, “Monody to the Sound of
Zithers”
I dwell in Possibility. Emily Dickenson, #657
Yes, for that most of all. Denise Levertov, “The Secret”

It’s four in the afternoon. Time still for a poem. Phyllis McGinley, “Public Journal”
This is not verse, of course, I’m sure of this. Marianne Moore, “Avec Ardeur”
It may look like (Write it!) like disaster. Elizabeth Bishop, “One Art”
I, too, dislike it. Marianne Moore, “Poetry”
There is no salvage. Maxine Kumin, “Together
Let evening come, Jane Kenyon , “Happiness”
With the damn wonder of it. Lucille Clifton, “Homage to My Hips’
Daylight is nobody’s friend. Anne Sexton,“You All Know the Story of
the Other Woman”
The only sanity is a cup of tea. Gwendolyn Brooks, “Boy Breaking Glass” Sweet sweet sweet sweet sweet tea. Gertrude Stein, “Susie Asado”

(Respectfully, submitted, Joanna Migdal 03/12/10)

On March 13, 2010 at 10:48 am joanna migdal wrote:

So glad to see an acknowledgment of Women’s History Month! In honor of famous female poets who have passed, I have collaged their lines into a form of a “Cento”, a form that is making a comeback acc. to David Lehman. I hope everyone enjoys this tribute!

“Patchwork”

Lady, make a note of this: Dorothy Parker, “Unfortunate Coincidence”
The heart asks more than life can give. SaraTeasdale, “Moonlight”

There’s just no accounting for happiness. Jane Kenyon, “Happiness”
I have gone, out a possessed witch, Anne Sexton, “Her Kind”
I eat men like air. Sylvia Plath, “Lady Lazarus”
Many things are better flavored with bacon. Lorine Niedecker, “Poet’s Work”

Now for a little I have fed on loneliness, May Sarton, “Words on the Wing”
Pang after pang again and again, Christina Rossetti, “Introspection”
But I am completely nourished. Amy Lowell, “Decade”

I have wanted other things more than lovers. Kay Boyle, “Monody to the Sound of
Zithers”
I dwell in Possibility. Emily Dickenson, #657
Yes, for that most of all. Denise Levertov, “The Secret”

It’s four in the afternoon. Time still for a poem. Phyllis McGinley, “Public Journal”
This is not verse, of course, I’m sure of this. Marianne Moore, “Avec Ardeur”
It may look like (Write it!) like disaster. Elizabeth Bishop, “One Art”
I, too, dislike it. Marianne Moore, “Poetry”
There is no salvage. Maxine Kumin, “Together
Let evening come, Jane Kenyon , “Happiness”
With the damn wonder of it. Lucille Clifton, “Homage to My Hips’
Daylight is nobody’s friend. Anne Sexton,“You All Know the Story of
the Other Woman”
The only sanity is a cup of tea. Gwendolyn Brooks, “Boy Breaking Glass” Sweet sweet sweet sweet sweet tea. Gertrude Stein, “Susie Asado”
-end-