The Musings of a Modern Feminist

An amateur poet's take on feminism

Monthly Archives: March 2012

Spring


Well I have been super busy this week with a bunch of deadlines to meet, so I haven’t had time to write something new or Lenten. So, I give you a poem I wrote about this time last year. It is season appropriate and I hope you like it.

Spring the time of new life and growth,
When trees make a solemn oath
To bear sweet flowers and sweeter fruits
They spread their leaves and dig their roots.

Bears yawn and swallows return
Knowing that it is their turn
To shape the world in all its beauty
That right now is their duty

Lambs dance and daffodils bloom
The threat of winter no longer looms
Over the world so people cheer
In the hope spring lasts all year.

Apologies (again)


Life this week has been beyond hectic, so I haven’t been able to write a poem in time AND I couldn’t log on on Monday or yesterday so this week’s poem is a day late. I should have gotten my act together by next week however (which will be Thursday release as I’ll be away from Friday till about Tuesday). Sorry again and I’ll try to make sure it doesn’t happen again.

Thanks xx

A Journey


I make this journey all the time, every day in fact. Every time I sin, I have to fight my way back to Him again. I just hope that I’ve written this poem in such a way that other Christians can relate.

A dark place
No light
Nor warmth
No strength to fight
The clawing, suffocating damp..
Alone
Well and truly…
Not alone.
A presenc
A kindly being presents
Itself
Just in the corner of my eye.
I feel its light
Why won’t it answer my calls, why?
I walk
Then run
Clawing like a blind man
Searching for the sun.
I feel its Passion
I feel its Pain
And I feel it’s Love
Again and again.
So close, yet so far…
I abandon it all
My worries, my pride
And let myself fall
Into its arms
Warm and safe.
Bathed in a glow
That will forever show
Me the Way
The Truth
And the Life.

Mother’s Day


Since Sunday was Mother’s Day in the UK, I thought I’d post a tribute to mothers everywhere!

A warm smile
A kind word
And all the while
She’s there.

Tired eyes
Busy hands
‘Neath blue skies
Or grey.

A bitter row
A raised voice
When we don’t know how
To behave.

Let it not be
Just one day a year
When we make her see
How much we care.

As promised


Today has a double release, as I promised. So enjoy A Journey (tracking the journey of sin and repentance) and Mother’s Day (a small tribute to mothers everywhere).

If anyone has any topics or themes that they would like me to explore over the remainder of Lent or beyond, do not hesitate to comment on the post.

A Modern Feminist out!


next instalment of the campaign ^^

Glass Eyes

Now in the grand scheme of things, Bloodrage was a mere distraction. He was simply in the wrong place, and the wrong time, and happened to be the wrong species. They’d come to the house to destroy a monster, and that monster still lived. They’d found a door in the wall, one opened by the vampire blood in Ethel’s veins. They found a statue inside – a living statue. Named Adrianna, in fact. She was a nice girl, I met her once. Spanish, I think, and a lover of fighting. And stories. Mostly stories about fighting. Before you ask, no, she wasn’t the monster.

Introductions were cut a little short by a certain Italian noble returning in a column of flame. The minions of Hell are renowned for their subtlety, yes, but they’re more than capable of the dramatic. Not to mention skill; the last man I placed in a…

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Sorry


I’m totally dozy and, therefore, I lost my notebook with all my poetry in it 😥

Therefore there shall be no poetry this week but I promise a double release next week to make up for it.

I also apologise for the late release and it will not happen again!

So I leave you with the gospel for last Sunday instead

Since the Passover of the Jews was near, Jesus went up to Jerusalem. He found in the temple area those who sold oxen, sheep, and doves, as well as the money-changers seated there.He made a whip out of cords and drove them all out of the temple area, with the sheep and oxen, and spilled the coins of the money-changers and overturned their tables, and to those who sold doves he said, “Take these out of here, and stop making my Father’s house a marketplace.” His disciples recalled the words of scripture, “Zeal for your house will consume me.”At this the Jews answered and said to him, “What sign can you show us for doing this?” Jesus answered and said to them, “Destroy this temple and in three days I will raise it up.”The Jews said, “This temple has been under construction for forty-six years, and you will raise it up in three days?”But he was speaking about the temple of his body. Therefore, when he was raised from the dead, his disciples remembered that he had said this, and they came to believe the scripture and the word Jesus had spoken. While he was in Jerusalem for the feast of Passover, many began to believe in his name when they saw the signs he was doing. But Jesus would not trust himself to them because he knew them all, and did not need anyone to testify about human nature. He himself understood it well.

He’s Bright and He Walks and He Talks


He’s bright
In a dazzling white
That makes sinners
Cover their faces in shame
That makes successes, winners
Of me and us all.

He smiles
‘Come, stay a while’
He spreads his arms
And beckons me towards Him
He loves me despite my weakness
Despite my sin.

He walks
Right beside me and talks
And he listens.
He cares about my hopes and fears
My cares and aspirations
He listens and wipes away my tears.


Glass Eyes

Name: Unknown

Deed name: Bloodrage

Status: Deceased

Appearance: Tall, very muscular, short hair, dirty, generally dresses in furs. Description lacking due to lack of sightings and disappearance of corpse.

Criminal History: accusations of mating with wolves and other Uratha, bearing silver weaponry, preying on a human. Aside from werewolf taboos, suspect has not broken laws.

Background: Very little information is available on this man. He had not joined a pack, and rarely communicates with his tribe. He was a peasant boy who was killed in an attack by the Ivory Claws tribe. Lived with blood talons for most of his adolescence, generally said to be easily provoked and adventurous. Upon first change (under the full moon), he left to wander. There is evidence that he lived with Stoker for a few years, or at least hunted in the same territory.

Notes: as of the time of the report’s writing, Bloodrage is…

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