#feminist poet

• Young Girl in a Car, Chicago, circa 1960’s - Vivian Maier

Pretty women wonder where my secret lies.

I’m not cute or built to suit a fashion model’s size  

But when I start to tell them,

They think I’m telling lies.

I say,

It’s in the reach of my arms,

The span of my hips,  

The stride of my step,  

The curl of my lips.  

I’m a woman

Phenomenally.

Phenomenal woman,  

That’s me.

- Maya Angelou

•Harlem Fashion Show, 1963 - Eve Arnold

I walk into a room

Just as cool as you please,  

And to a man,

The fellows stand or

Fall down on their knees.  

Then they swarm around me,

A hive of honey bees.  

I say,

It’s the fire in my eyes,  

And the flash of my teeth,  

The swing in my waist,  

And the joy in my feet.  

I’m a woman

Phenomenally.

Phenomenal woman,

That’s me.

Men themselves have wondered  

What they see in me.

They try so much

But they can’t touch

My inner mystery.

When I try to show them,  

They say they still can’t see.  

I say,

It’s in the arch of my back,  

The sun of my smile,

The ride of my breasts,

The grace of my style.

I’m a woman

Phenomenally.

Phenomenal woman,

That’s me.

- Maya Angelou

• Los Angeles 1964 - Bruce Davidson

Now you understand

Just why my head’s not bowed.  

I don’t shout or jump about

Or have to talk real loud.  

When you see me passing,

It ought to make you proud.

I say,

It’s in the click of my heels,  

The bend of my hair,  

the palm of my hand,  

The need for my care.  

’Cause I’m a woman

Phenomenally.

Phenomenal woman,

That’s me.

- Maya Angelou

“i find it easy to admire in trees what depresses me in people”
― Marge Piercy

• Francesca Woodman: Untitled, Boulder, Colorado 1976

Coming together  
it is easier to work  
after our bodies  
meet
paper and pen
neither care nor profit
whether we write or not
but as your body moves
under my hands  
charged and waiting  
we cut the leash
you create me against your thighs  
hilly with images
moving through our word countries  
my body
writes into your flesh
the poem
you make of me.

Touching you I catch midnight  
as moon fires set in my throat  
I love you flesh into blossom  
I made you
and take you made
into me.

- Audre Lorde / Recreation

• Frida Kahlo & Chavela Vargas, 1945 - photographed by Nickolas Muray

“And I would be the moon spoken over your beckoning flesh,
breaking against reservations,
beaching thought, my hands at your high tide,
over and under inside you,
and the passing of hungers, attended…forgotten.”

- Audre Lorde

• Dara Scully