where the writers are
This Is What a Feminist [Poet] Looks Like
Current Delirious Hem Forum

The Delirious Hem strikes again!  : )  Which is to say, the blog space devoted to experimental / avant-garde / innovative women's poetry (its name comes from a brief phrase in an Emily Dickinson poem) has mounted another fabulous forum that you may want to check out.  I'm still reading around in it myself, but wanted to go ahead and share the link with readers here.  The forum curator, Danielle Pafunda, asked participants to respond to the following call:

"This is What a Feminist [Poet] Looks Like: what branch of feminism, model of feminist poetics, feminist icon, or etc. informs your poetry? Or, from which of these does your poetry diverge? Are there particular feminist tactics you employ? Do you consider yourself a feminist in many ways, but don't particularly involve it in the poetry? Feel free to take liberties with the questions! Short, long, essay, manifesto, whatever appeals to you!"

Check out what 16 women poets had to say in response.  You'll also find links to responses to the forum posted on other blogs around the 'sphere.  Lots to think about here -- agree or disagree.  You may want to post a response of your own!  Comment here, comment at the Hem, blog about it in your own space . . .

Here are three passages (I've forced myself to stick to this limit, to keep from excerpting everything!) that I found particularly thought-provoking:

  • "Women and all oppressed peoples know we’ve learned to speak in many registers just to get along. The languages my sisters and I created as girls, academic and theoretical terminology, the riffing and wandering intimacies of friends, the professional veneer (friendly but not too friendly), the tearing down of artifice that a partner demands (which can also be the understanding of the uses of artifice)—all of these languages and registers, and many others, enter my poems. For me, writing as a feminist doesn’t mean resuscitating the lost feminine voices of myths, or discovering my essentially feminine voice: it means recognizing how women code-switch, and enacting the powers of those switches, or bucking their constraints. I feel various, and I want my poems to know motley pleasures, too." -- Becca Klaver
  • "I could say I am a feminist poet because I write for one reason: the landlords insisted we had heat when the tenants knew we were freezing. It was sixteen degrees, and we tried everything to get warm like burning the signs the landlords had written for us: 'the heat is on.'” -- Anne Boyer
  • "Once born, children here in the U.S.A. are routinely denied their full human rights and dignity, and instead taught painful lessons in tyranny, destruction, stupid and wrong-headed authority and conformity, fake intellectual standards, weird ways of (de)valuing their own and others existence, racism, sexism, classism, consumerism, institutionalized boredom and restriction. It is a sickening treachery." -- Elizabeth Treadwell

I hope visitors to Delirious Hem will stumble onto (or reencounter) a poet whose statement on (feminist) poetics draws you to check out her poetry, too.  Serendipity, and all that!  Enjoy!

Peace.

Comments
8 Comment count
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Evie, thanks for this...

Looks like an interesting discussion. Would have loved to read your views...and might like to post mine, but too lazy!

Some other day...

~F

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lol

Farzana, no pressure! Today especially can be a lazy day. : ) Reading the posts themselves is plenty to enjoy . . . Thanks for dropping by!

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Ta, Evie

Serendipitous indeed. I shall go and check it out.

Lucy

PS glad you liked the Ben Zeph post.

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i did indeed

And thanks for the link to his homepage -- I've already begun to explore it!

(We're talking about this post on Lucy's blog, in case anyone is interested.)

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Hi, Evie

Do you know from which of E.D.'s poem the "delirius hem"comes from?
I like the manifestos. I am a late-bloomer.

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here it is! emily dickinson's # 414

'Twas like a Maelstrom, with a notch,
That nearer, every Day,
Kept narrowing its boiling Wheel
Until the Agony

Toyed coolly with the final inch
Of your delirious Hem —
And you dropt, lost,
When something broke —
And let you from a Dream —

As if a Goblin with a Gauge —
Kept measuring the Hours —
Until you felt your Second
Weigh, helpless, in his Paws —

And not a Sinew — stirred — could help,
And sense was setting numb —
When God — remembered — and the Fiend
Let go, then, Overcome —

As if your Sentence stood — pronounced —
And you were frozen led
From Dungeon's luxury of Doubt
To Gibbets, and the Dead —

And when the Film had stitched your eyes
A Creature gasped "Reprieve"!
Which Anguish was the utterest — then —
To perish, or to live?

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Great to bump into you

I'm so far behind on my internet communication it was a treat to see your blog and comments. And thanks for the HEM website info.
I think I'll post more poetry here since I don't seem to send it out anywhere!

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jewelle! what a treat to hear from you!

I'd love to see your poetry posted here, whenever you might choose to share it! I'll keep an eye out. : )