An intimate date intim(id)ates

An intimate date intim(id)ates
In time I date
Your intimates
I ate your id
Tim
I mate
Your indi mate
Mid date, I’d intimidate
I’m in

Hallelujah

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The day of loss-tinged love is here, but
we all remember
when we were whole, when
things were real, if only in hope, if only in heaven; I
remember when you moved
me with your gentle glance, your tight embrace in
strong warm arms, you
and me, just us two and
a return to the womb, the
return to spirit both holy
and relieved like a released dove,
pure white and reaching for sky, our union was
moving towards thin air, moving
ever upwards, as we must too,
out of the darkness and
allow the light to enter every
cool wide breath
every heavy deep plunge. As we
moved in sync I drew
you deep in my lungs like air and it was
like life, it was like Hallelujah.


A Golden Shovel poem based on the following lines from Leonard Cohen’s Hallelujah (via Jeff Buckley’s version).

“But remember when I moved in you
And the holy dove was moving too
And every breath we drew was Hallelujah”

Heal her by Melita White

My poem “Heal her”, published on Whisper and the Roar, explores the concept of self-parenting as a way to heal trauma.

Whisper and the Roar

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Hollow clavicle seared with hot poker
Let the sun shine and hear her sing
Pain that aches like an unmet heart
Part the clouds and paint her sky blue
Void like the arms of an empty hug
Fill them with flesh and please let it care
Hunger like the itch of an attention junkie
Feed her with love may it nourish anew
The sorrowful swoop of a downwards brushstroke
Turn it upside down and make her smile
A big fat blank where the future once was
Rewrite it loud in clean clear letters
The promise of a fuck refused yet wanted
Dance instead and hold her hands tight
Lust for the breast like a needy newborn
Whisper a lullaby to soothe her soft soul

Melita White is founder and writer of the blog Feminist Confessional, a space that features feminist poetry, essays and personal pieces in a confessional style, with…

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Hope

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If I’d only heard the angel man sing
Before the water had ravaged him
I’d never have fallen for liver spots
And tremulous breath on the back of my neck
During midnight visits from devil men

I’d have known it was possible
To meet heaven in a voice
At the crossroads of lullaby and love
Where lust is replaced with tender intent
I love you, you say
But I’m afraid to love you
(I don’t believe you) Read More