17 Monday Jun 2013
Tags
art, katana, Onna bugeisha, the moon child, Tsukiko, woman warrior
Posted by babylon crashing | Filed under Feminism, Illustration and art
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12 Wednesday Jun 2013
Posted in Erotic, Feminism, Illustration and art, Poetry
≈ Comments Off on in her lover’s tongue
Tags
I.
A grave lost at dusk.
She speaks to her dead lover
in her lover’s tongue.
II.
Two fingers inside.
What do I taste like? Bleed me.
Fuck me. Make me burn.
III.
I’m fire: fire’s climax.
I burn, I die, I embrace
all our little deaths.
24 Friday May 2013
Tags
Medb: Old Irish Gaelic name, meaning “intoxicating blood-lust.” In mythology, this is the name of a warrior queen of Connacht, the wife of Ailill.
Posted by babylon crashing | Filed under Feminism, Illustration and art
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14 Tuesday May 2013
Posted by babylon crashing | Filed under Feminism, Illustration and art
≈ Comments Off on liberation: auntie preparing for battle
08 Wednesday May 2013
Posted in Armenia, Armenian, Feminism, photograph, Translation
≈ Comments Off on do not love me as if i were a flower
Do not love me as if I were a flower
I want to live a worthy life —
as if I were an atom in a mass of troubles
as a child of street mobs!
Shushanik Kurghinian
07 Tuesday May 2013
Tags
Charlie don't surf, hijab, kickass girls, Middle East feminism, Muslim Women, surfboard, surfing
Posted by babylon crashing | Filed under Feminism, Illustration and art, photograph
≈ Comments Off on charlie don’t surf… but farah does
05 Sunday May 2013
Posted by babylon crashing | Filed under Feminism, photograph
≈ Comments Off on armenian soldiers during nagorno-karabakh war
30 Saturday Mar 2013
It was in a valley of sunflower
blooms when the maid, the mother and the crone
came to our door. They called you out. “Daughter”
is a word hard enough to shatter stone
so now all I have left are broken rocks.
I am fine with the rites and all we do,
but not this. First they cut off your dreadlocks,
tattooed your skull, gave you a sword, taught you
how to kill. My daughter now makes chaos
kneel and beg but was taken one spring day,
leaving nothing for my arms to hold tight
but air. I wait for you, love, so that my loss
might be found. You’ll always be my blessed, fey
child; not some blood-soaked woman, dying knight.
30 Saturday Mar 2013
Posted in .gif, Feminism, Illustration and art
* * *
Whether or not Guinevere from the legends of King Arthur painted herself in blue ink just before running screaming into battle is not important. It just looked brilliant when I watched it, so I am sharing it with you. It’s never good to upset the Picts.
18 Monday Mar 2013
Tags
cunnilingus, lifetime of love, lithic muscles, Lucky Strike, Moroccan patterns, pubic hair, scar, sonnet, woman warrior
When I trace the scars on her shoulders, thick
as my finger, grotesque tattoos that wrap
around each arm. When I kiss her lithic
muscles she starts to tremble. She could snap
my spine like that. She has killed thirty men
like that. When I play with her softest part,
the part I will not name, her talismen
I call a lifetime of love, my sweetheart
opens. It’s not words but other’s secrets
that that I won’t share. When I light her lucky
strike she groans the earth before volcano’s
blow. She clamps my face in place; her ringlets
tease my nose. I love her, from her forty
broadsword strokes to each of her missing toes.
memories of my ghost sista 