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julie anderson
Founder + Editor-In-Chief of
Founder + Editor-In-Chief of


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Can someone please tell me which child I can save?

#femininecollective #Immigrants
I am a Mother
I am a Mother

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$12 an hour is hardly adequate compensation considering the breastaurant industry is profiting so fiercely, but, really, what is the fair market value for suppressing one’s humanity and individuality? What is the cost to our society when we allow an institution to systematically reduce women to vessels?

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I caress permission like a lover in that instant. I am an adult woman who will no longer stifle the strength of my vulnerability. I make my own life choices, including when, how, and with whom I orgasm, desire, and ultimately, love. I welcome the wild, messy child of the unknown, inviting her in to saturate my being.

+Rachel Thompson
I Weep With Discovery
I Weep With Discovery

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Night blossom, hawkish, witchy wiles, lovechild
in lightning with a pedophile. My Cue,
best book, biography. By art beguiled,
betrothed to Clare Quilty — dress black, ink blue.

Lolita vacation kaleidoscope
of butterflies. Whim winged gleams, collector’s
eyes. 12 year old on index cards. Captured
clippings, American bard, true predator.

LaSalle, pretend FBI, a pre-teen thief,
a nickel shy becomes a kidnap road
trip date, true criminal Humbert motif
1948; guilt’s a glittered ode.

Nabokov still hides inside thorned dark blooms—
one anagram, two authors’ tangled tomb.

#Sonnet #poetry #femininecollective

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Tick tock
The hands on a clock
Move slower for the worker
For the female
Who gets paid lower

Wages upon checkbook pages
I spend all my time
Just to earn a 9 pennies and
Two dimes
Less than the average man

Shouldn’t have to carry brass knuckles
And not for chuckles
A switchblade
My ace of spades
My little pocket stun gun
Bright pink like the setting sun

When we walk home at night
We get animalistic sight
Don’t go past any alleys
Before the body count chart
Goes up one tally

I Know this girl
Who was pushed to her limit
He “kind of pushed it in”
But that’s still rape, it’s a sin
Girl, you didn’t want it
So you shouldn’t have to take his shit
You said no
He should get up and go
I repeat, you said no

Why must we made feel like we are
Entitled to sex
Then when we say no
We get no respect
Even through cybersex
Guys curse at us and then say “next!”
They make us feel like complete rejects
This concept of respect is not complex

I don’t dress up for you
Or you
Nor you
My revealing clothes are meant for myself
Not your grimy hands to touch yourself
With thoughts of me
Using porno magazines to help you
Up on your bookshelf

Women of all sizes, race, and colour
Show your body
Bless us all with your presence
So godly
Empower each other, sisters
For we must stand together
And help one another grow, forever

He, she, they, and them
Queers and non binary
Be you, rock that androgyny

As a whole
We must stand together
And fight, but not one another
We will not be oppressed
Will we get what we want
And never rest
Equality for all
As one, we stand tall

#poetry #equality #femininecollective #MeToo

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Perhaps I should
at the breast
but she bites
behaves badly
she preys

a pretty pot
I bought her
a shrine
a sanctum
filled it with
with god’s golden
I prayed

a reluctant mother
I adopted her
loved her
feared her
saved her
my cats wanted to eat her

I picked
planted and pruned
she rebelled
screamed resistance
she sprouted weeds

I bought her
an Amazon friend
a soulmate
a forever sister
another Venus
I picked
planted and pruned

in one pot
organically restored
exquisite carnivores
side by side
devouring life
savoring death

they fed hard
on flirting flies
becoming stronger

on my porch
conversing philosophy
fucking injustice
enlightened misery

we survived
we beautifully
we came alive
fierce alpha females

erotic tendrils
and unforgiving teeth

I smile
commune with them

strangely fulfilled
night night
recurrent shrills

the nurturing
the nursing
saintly motherhood
the wrath
the hunger and the ache
something only a woman gets

Nursing Venus
Nursing Venus

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I implore you to question your motives, your indifference, and your lack of empathy.
Do you feel that good about yourself, on the inside?
We have to do better than kids locked in cages.
Devastation runs amok; earth burns hot like angry temperaments and heated arguments.
We are off-kilter, disaster abounds, the homeless discarded, the mentally ill invisible and abandoned like a pair of dirty socks, while babies scream mama in foreign tongues.
How unbearable, how utterly cruel, and how very ugly are we.
I won’t shut my ears or close my eyes.
I won’t be a part of the assholes hoarding dollars, or the bastardized, selfish, fascists.
I’m awake with a heavy heart.
Don’t Box Me In
Don’t Box Me In

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According to the media: All the things I am: a woman, Afro-Jewish, and part of the LGBTA are the worse you could be. There wasn’t a part of me that wasn’t worthy of either mocking or ignoring.

Because there was no-one like me, I lived through an awkward puberty and then locked myself away for the best part of a decade. I tried changing who I was. I never felt good enough as a mixed raced woman, as a lesbian and as an asexual.

Dr. Dannii Cohen
Someone Like Me
Someone Like Me

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I found words
I found poets
I found my tribe

I became a poet
the night I didn’t die

+Jacquie Prebich
The Reformation
The Reformation

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The animals feel it,
stronger than we do—an ache beneath the flesh of intuition
that’s impossible to sense when you‘re human. I can feel it
in my hands and in my feet—each sticky breeze of impending
annihilation that even the will of immortals can’t elude.

#parenting #motherhood #mother #family #femininecollective #poetry
Mothers Intuition
Mothers Intuition
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