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Getting mascara on your eyelid.
Smudging your nail polish because it takes too long to dry. Not knowing how to receive compliments. Knowing how to give them. Allowing yourself to be girly in a way that isn’t ironic or making fun. Allowing yourself to not be girly, not just to be different. The Divine Feminine is the feminine aspect of the divine power that connects and binds the
earth together. It is the goddess energy that exists within us all. – Google Definition of The Divine Feminine Call of hawks Rumble of thunder Goddesses rise from your slumber Sister’s merge Form a herd Of unbridled, wild horses Artist's Description:
I believe this photograph is best suited with the section “A Feminist Future”. I took this photograph in the Outdoor Seoul Botanical Garden as the flowers began to blossom in the Spring. To me, the rose blooming represents my hope for a season of empowerment and growth in feminism across the world. With the onset of more feminist groups and social media campaigns, we have become closer to transforming power dynamics and policies. Furthermore, a rose is often used to symbolize female reproductive organs, with various cultures and artistic representations using flowers to represent fertility. Through this photograph, I aim to draw attention to the recent efforts to combat legislation restricting reproductive healthcare. I believe that autonomy over reproduction is the key pillar of the overall health, empowerment, and human rights of women. The beauty and intricacies of the rose pattern in the photograph alludes to the physical and emotional significance of womens’ ability to control their beautiful bodies. I also think that the photograph pairs well with “A Past of Protest” as well. The rose also embodies the years of strength, resilience, and vitality demonstrated by women who fought for their rights in various facets of life, such as voting and workplace treatment. Both the vibrant energy radiating from the rose and its ability to grow in various conditions, from lush gardens to harsh environments, speak to its power to overcome challenges and thrive. Similarly, over the past few decades, women have been able to use their powerful spirits to combat sexism with a drive for change. Terrill was not honest with us about the reason that he was sent on the extra planetary ship to
earth. He came to us with that same old same old alien to human "I come in peace" nonsense. And we, being schmucks, ate it up. We wanted to appear enlightened and accepting. We wanted to think a superior being had traveled light years just to commune with us because we were that special. It's not like he was a lizard man who wanted to eat us. And he wasn't trying to repopulate the planet or anything with a race of mutant aliens. (In case you were concerned about that.) Really, it was simpler than that. Governmentally, things had gotten out of hand on his home planet, El. Terrill was a con man, a prisoner, and, to prevent crime, his planet's government had adopted a three strikes you're out policy. So third crime, no matter what it was, meant that you went to prison for life. my ancestors they feared
the world that birthed them – but I set it on fire. now I watch from the skies, as my children burn. now these are the things without all remedy, when they were once without regard. I will never speak to my father
again. I will die on this hill. Except I will not. I will die in an alien country, oceans away from the monsters who claim they are my family. I will die afloat in the Milky Way, lightyears away from the family of monsters who are claiming me. I will die sweet and effervescent, leagues away from the claim this monstrous family is pressing about me. Will they even live to see me die again? We are a lonely people in a crowded room
Gasping for any air left Screaming for any echo left In the 4 walls covered by societal norms Gasping for any air left- Drowning in expectation Lungs looking for any air-any freedom left Screaming for any echo left- A room so crowded a voice will not stand chance against expectations As expectations are smeared like graffiti with no eraser in sight when spring returns,
she shall, by fairy hands, honor Freedom, the weeping hermit. had we time, i would love her, for she deserves eternity. darling, my darling, do you notice what hath remained? time matters. i have seen fortune and from her shoulders her loose gown did fall it was no dream. she has left me with brightness, with subtle magic in her nearness, soft as spring wind. Icarus Grey made their publication debut recently as the third place winner of Empyrean Literary Magazine's summer '23 poetry contest. When not throwing words together and hoping for the best, they dream of one day learning to play the banjo. |
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