That Woman
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angryfemalepoet.bsky.social
That Woman
@angryfemalepoet.bsky.social
150 followers 350 following 84 posts
🏳️‍🌈 A fractious midult of unpredictable temperament with strong feminist leanings and an uncontrollable poetry habit. I share what I’m reading.
Day job is science and medicine. Cis-bi, she/her
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angryfemalepoet.bsky.social
And No. 6 by Michael O’Siadhail, ‘Between’…
Between As we fall into step I ask a penny for your thoughts. "Oh, nothing,' you say, 'well, nothing so easily bought? Sliding into the rhythm of your silence, I almost forget how lonely I'd been until that autumn morning we met. At bedtime up along my childhood's stairway, tongues of fire cast shadows. Too earnest, too highstrung. My desire is endless: others ended when I'd only started. Then, there was you: so whole-hog, so wholehearted. Think of the thousands of nights and the shadows fought. And the mornings of light. I try to read your thought. In the strange openness of your face, I'm powerless. Always this love. Always this infinity between us. MICHEAL O'SIADHAIL
February 14, 2025 at 6:06 PM
angryfemalepoet.bsky.social
No. 5 is We Two Boys by Walt Whitman. Is it a love poem? It’s certainly been used as a wedding poem so I’m saying yes
TWO BOYS TOGETHER CLINGING. We two boys together clinging, One the other never leaving, Up and down the roads going, North and South excursions making, Power enjoying, elbows stretching, fingers clutching, Arm'd and fearless, eating, drinking, sleeping, loving, No law less than ourselves owning, sailing, soldiering, thieving, threatening, Misers, menials, priests alarming, air breathing, water drinking, on the turf or the sea-beach dancing, Cities wrenching, ease scorning, statutes mocking, feebleness chas-ing, Fulfilling our foray.
February 14, 2025 at 6:01 PM
angryfemalepoet.bsky.social
No. 4 is by A. V. Christie
Evermay-on-the-Delaware
A. V. Christie Evermay-on-the-Delaware You sleep in the sharp Adirondack chair, surrounded by a still cloud of larkspur and I am in the long shadows of lupine which almost reach you in late afternoon. I'm remembering the night of our wedding, how rain throbbed on the windshield, each drop a shadow blooming somewhere on the map. I wanted you to know the way along roads blurred by a fury of rain. I yearned for you to reinvent yourself as lightning spread its repertoire, its variations. But love is each repetition, each small return; night after night love is the way you gather the birds, lifting their cage like a lantern.
February 14, 2025 at 5:56 PM
angryfemalepoet.bsky.social
No. 3 is by Menna Elfyn, Welsh language activist extraordinaire; Couplings.
February 14, 2025 at 5:54 PM
angryfemalepoet.bsky.social
Yes I missed posting numbers 2-6 in the countdown because life but for the record, here’s a few of them. It was wonderful finding them all.
No. 2 is from A Blood Condition by Kayo Chingonyi
February 14, 2025 at 5:51 PM
angryfemalepoet.bsky.social
If there’s a journal without a line number limit, you could submit it as one poem with a title and within that subtitle and number each? E.g.

The Way In To The House (bold)

I. The Walk Up To The Door (italics)
II. The Knocking
III. The Sound Of Someone Swearing And Fiddling With The Door Lock
January 26, 2025 at 5:42 PM
angryfemalepoet.bsky.social
I didn’t know that one, thank you!
January 26, 2025 at 11:57 AM
angryfemalepoet.bsky.social
‘Otomo, my soul's a currach Disappearing behind the waves.’

Thank you for posting that, so beautiful.
January 25, 2025 at 11:38 AM