Inspiring Women of WordPress

Let’s honor the women of WordPress – From The Lonely Author

The Lonely Author

Feminism isn’t about making women stronger. Women are already strong. It’s about changing the way the world perceives that strength. – G.D. Anderson

Inspiring Women of WordPress

National Domestic Violence Awareness Month falls in October. November 25th is InternationalDayfor the Elimination of Violence against Women. Of course the holidays is a time of giving, showing appreciation, and love. After that comes my favorite day – Valentine’s Day.

I want to do something special for some inspiring women I have met here in WordPress. Sort of spreading and sharing the inspiration.

Starting Monday through the week leading up to Valentine’s Day, I will introduce a different Inspiring Woman of WordPress. You will meet doctors, poets, great motivators, teachers, designers, and mothers, the most sacred (and thankless) of professions.

I will still be posting poetry (and my other nonsense) but a different talented lady will be highlighted with every post. On some…

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He Said, He Said

He called as he usually did, his voice sexy and deep, not hysterical, which
he can sometimes get when something’s on his mind, something I have to
ferret out, burying my muzzle in the shit of his psyche.

He said we couldn’t have dinner, that he was broke and, ‘some people have
to work,’ implying something about my life.

He said that I was fine, but, ‘a little too much’ and wondered if I wouldn’t
be happier with someone ‘more complex, more my ‘speed.’

And I said no! No! Simplicity is my goal, what can I be?  What would you
like me to be?

“Nothing.” he said, and hung up.

(c) Rob Goldstein 1986-2017 All Rights Reserved

He Said, He Said

Excerpt from a poetry reading with Harold Norse, 1986.

 

Caravaggio Dreams

from Poet Rummager

Poet Rummager

LC-Caravaggio_Ursula Caravaggio’s last painting – The Martyrdom of Saint Ursula 1610


Ah, Caravaggio, you come to me in a dream.

We both hold on to the darkness –
painting canvases seeped in sanguine.

Red is the color of my cheeks
as I blush when our finger tips brush.

Do you not see what I’ve buried deep,
has dug itself out to find me?

Feel how my fears quake
as the waking sun’s rays illuminate.

It’s light that blinds,
yet all the while pretends to mend.

I clutch fast to the shadows
and nod in acquiescence.

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*Michelangelo Amerighi da Caravaggio is considered to be the greatest Italian painter of the Seventeenth Century. Arrogant, hot-headed, and extremely talented, he would cause turbulence wherever he would go. It is said that his last painting, The Martyrdom of Saint Ursula, was painted while Caravaggio bled from a deep wound to his face. A vengeful…

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