"Sure," I respond, after a day of being held within the welcoming embrace of a Masculine container.
The chaos of my Feminine flow now given the freedom of parameters and limitations.
Breaking pattern.
YES!
He suggests we follow a few prompts.
"Sure," I chirp in response.
#1: Collectively brainstorm 10 words ~
Hardened (him)
Red (me)
Unspoken (him)
Stillness (me)
Ether (him)
Fingertips (me)
Shrunken (him)
slaves (me)
Claves (him)
Nude (me)
Now, write:
Spain, 1547.
Guillerma’s fingertips were rubbed raw.
Pouring the violent rage of grief into her claves, she
thrummed out hardened beats piercing a Catalanian countryside. Her unspoken emotion, lifting up with
each sashay of her red dress, floated into the ether, breaking the stillness of
a hot summer night. Guillermo’s
ship had finally washed ashore.
Another shipment of slaves, nude save for thin fabric tied around their
most private parts, waited to be boarded onto yet another cargo ship. Ebony skin dripping with sweat, their
Spirits shrunken and bent.
Guillerma, unconsolable in her loss, spit at their feet. “¡Pinche negros!”
#2: Rewrite the above with a
suggestion of what to change from partner.
(My suggestion: the slaves speak Hebrew.)
(My suggestion: the slaves speak Hebrew.)
Auschwitz, 1943.
Josefina’s fingertips were rubbed raw.
Shivering in the morning snow, her bare hands red, she drove
the shovel into the frozen soil.
With each downward thrust, she thrummed out a steady 4X4 rhythm,
breaking the stillness of the shrunken landscape. Her mind floating across the ether, she was transported back
to Austria, where she gave a 5 lire note to a traveling Gypsy. The woman’s claves ringing back through
time, “clacka clacka clack.”
Josefina shivered in the memory, her nude body covered in mere scraps of
cloth. Her hardened soul
spitting unspoken curses at the SS covering her shift, “Aba shelha sarsur.”
#3: Take
the last line from someone else's poem and use it as the starting line for yours:
Starring
Hafiz & Me!
“Only a perfect one
who is always laughing at the word
two
can make you know
of
Love.
who is always laughing at the word
two
can make you know
of
Love.
Only an imperfect one
Who is always crying at the word
Now
Can make you question
Presence.
Only a content one who is always silent
Can make you wonder
What more?
Only an impatient one who is always asking
for more
Can make you wonder why?”
