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Julianza (Julie) Kim Shavin

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Member Since: Sep, 2008

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by Rosemarie Skaine

Women at War presents historical and present-day information on women in combat. Also in ebook:978-0-7864-8173-6..  
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by Julianza (Julie) Kim Shavin
Monday, November 03, 2008
Rated "PG13" by the Author.
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           >> View all 218

Enhanced photo, orig. by Amadea Katz, of yours truly.

Sometimes I feel like a know the song. i've been told the whole RH side of the poem is cut off, though it looks fine here. So i've re-broken the lines. I hope it looks ok to any new readers or to re-readers. I don't know what's wrong. The little box into which I paste usually shows all the words and did when I first put this one in, but it does not, now. Well, we'll see.


What do you mean, that April was already

the cruellest month? Impossible.

I was the complete breach whose kinked

and wrinkled eye quivered the enormous

thighs that propelled the monster

who for a brief spell was her smile

which alas, morphed into afterbirth,

messy gob of purple brackish thing

she wore into that muggy summer

and henceforth and henceforth.

Cruel is not the word --

something more treacherous

would get at it

the hard-set face chiseled into beauty

by nature and stone by nurture

aggrieved that I, awkward spawn

enmeshed in muck

would never be some lithe reflection,

but just a luckless duck.

But there were those first few weeks,

so the bard was wrong

June was far more cruel because

that ended the sleepwalk

and she could see the damage done.

Half a century's flown like giddy geese

southward summoned;

afterbirth has sagged like all else

and now hides in a designer bra

as though a chest there lurks

where there was none before

or something like a chest or,

most absurd of all, a heart.


copyright Julianza Shavin






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Reviewed by Jon Willey 11/9/2008
I love myself, I'm better than I think -- repeat this mantra one hundred times daily, whilst sipping you favorite champagne next to the fireplace -- envision, all of the people that love you, seated around -- 'tis then you will clearly see, that following afterbirth, is the wonderful gift of life -- by the power vested in me, I demand, that you will forever more, live a life filled with, JOY! -- and remember, I do not accept no, as reply to any edict --peace to you my friend -- JMW
Reviewed by Karla Dorman, The StormSpinner 11/6/2008

I couldn't quite read the entire poem, as the entire right side is cut off. :( Can you refigure the format or something? I'd love to read it, as I do all your brilliant words.

(((HUGS))) and love, Karla.
Reviewed by Flying Fox Ted L Glines 11/5/2008
Ah, Julie, as always I love your art with words. You didn't post a painting with this one -- I'll bet it would have been a trip!!!

Reviewed by Gene Williamson 11/4/2008
In fact, a lotta heart, I presume.You continue to go at yourself
with a wrecking ball, Julie. And you do it so damn well: messy
gob of purple brackish thing... Again, beautifully written as only
Julianza could (or would) write it. Good job. -- As to the bard
you mention, do you mean Shakespeare? If so, I think "April is the cruelest month" belongs to T.S. Eliot, unless of course he stole it
from Shakespeare (and I wouldn't put it past him). -gene.
Reviewed by Regis Auffray 11/4/2008
Half a century's flown like giddy geese southward summoned

I love this simile and the whole poem certainly provides one with substance for reflection; something which I have grown used to with your profoundly meaningful writes, Julianza. Thank you. Love, peace, and best wishes,

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