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  Sep 2024 Jill
Pradip Chattopadhyay
I knew there was a turn
but it never turned up
and I kept walking straight
in search of it.

The road was familiar
the turn was on the left
in every known way
yet in the broad daylight
it left me.

I know you wouldn't believe it
neither did I
as alike a puzzled wayfarer
I kept on looking for the turn.

It happened to me.
P'raps it happens in other lives too,
the turn always there
keeps eluding.

Then when found,
it's no longer needed.
Jill Sep 2024
Medusa, how your sisters suffer still
We hope, because in you, we see ourselves
Our stories transform, as yours always will

Your myth eternal-shifts on steady shelves
Our female thermostat for social mores
We hope, because in you, we see ourselves

Bewitching minx, besmirched Athena’s laws
Woman-judged and hexed when male-defiled
Our female thermostat for social mores

Mortal monster, murdered and reviled
Early poster child for victim’s curse
Woman-judged and hexed when male-defiled

Beheaded gorgon, potent beauty birthed
A sister sign of fury, seen at last
Early poster child for victim’s curse

From villain crone rebuilt, crusader-cast
Medusa, how your sisters suffer still
A sister sign of fury, seen at last
Our stories transform, as yours always will
©2024
  Sep 2024 Jill
Maya Fields
I speak of what I've learned,
but I tell no one of the journey,
the mistakes
to be where I am now.
I tell no one.
but I will tell you, this paper.
When I was a child
I repetitively watched my father
beat what looked as future me.
who I wanted to be.
my mother.
but as I grew older,
I realized that is the opposite of who I would become.
I watched my dad get drunk.
he put this label on himself
that my family couldn't bare.
something I couldn't understand.
achohlic.
But seeing myself now, not even an adult yet.
and still, I have before been consumed
by alcohol, and chosen toxicity over purity.
let someone lay hands on me
knowing that all my father has done
is teach me that I am no less than,
a princess.
yet he also taught me
that laying hands on someone you love is okay.
my mom taught me that staying silent is what
we're good at, told me that someday
shed be my hero. she never was.
she taught me that how to cope is to
move from 10 different guys in 10 days.
I have watched myself turn into the people I told myself
I'd never be.
but now this is me.
my dad is no longer addicted, nor is he abusive.
but the scars are still there.
and my mom is finally in a good relationship,
but because of all that I went through,
I will never let someone raise their tone with her.
and when people like to state "if you weren't hit, its okay."
but in reality, it will leave more bruises on you than those who were hit.
because still, my dad is somehow,
my hero.
and for that, I will never forgive myself.
I will never be the same.
This is the story I will tell nobody.
sincerely,  me
  Sep 2024 Jill
Donall Dempsey
"AHHHHH...IS IT...YER SELF THAT'S...IN IT?

here I am
thin now fat then
thin again

here the hair
short now long then long
in the long long ago

the same features
scattered across time
sticky-out ears...bulgy eyes...

curly hair
only the eyes change
( and remain the same ).


still the sad shy smile
flickers across
the ages

here I am
almost
handsome

her I am
my usual not
always the same laugh

the photographs
play with me
change and amend me

shuffle me through years
tears...different me's
me's I never knew I'd be

I smile my
by now
characteristic smile

laugh my laugh
that is my own
and no others

I've a feeling that
the photographs
haven't yet

finished with me
that there will be
lots more me to come

I close the album
put myself back
on the shelf

get on with the
business of being
my self


*

Being punctuated is a fierce painful business altogher...I remembered being full stopped and clare ta God but wasn't I in a coma for weeks on end. I was then locked up in brackets for another week and all my quotation marks taken away from me so I could hardly speak at all. Then I was given a life sentence to be my self for the rest of my life.

Too many Dónalls spoil the broth of a boy...joining the dots of me...painting by numbers the me of I.
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