Tag Archives: los angeles art scene

SHE CHRONICLES: “wanted:love” a poem by Noni Limar

i.
we are spinning on a tilted axis.
growth jilted like crashed jitneys.
two clogged stacked chimneys
with ancient rubble strapped
pain packed along the vertebrae of our spines.

we climb the wilted oak of offense,
roots deeply selfish
cloaked in the pretense of need.
our greed fumbles for logic thru blunt smoke.
sinks cheap bottlenecks into scarlet throats.
falters, praying good head & a firm stroke
can somehow beckon love.

ii.
but our lady, she is old.
abused by untold lovers
bold arrows covered & pressed
firm against her breast.

we cannot seduce this cupid
with our feigning dance of devotion.
she can smell our indifference,
denies the golden offerings of heat
stained sheets that reek of jealousy.

we cannot tempt with lack of trust.
there is no cover for our lust.
& so she rejects us.

iii.
we are young, stubborn & uneasy
with the unrequited legends of life.
we sharpen our knives with cutting wit.
if luv will not have us,
we will kidnap it, carve it, steal it, maim it
even rename it.
in the dead of night,
stealth covered black, we creep.
palms sweat heavy gripping 9s
we storm upon love
lungs livid as we shout—

iv.
we have no fathers
& thus, we have no honor.
our mothers tend the gardens of the tenement.
our teachers are penniless
their patience played so many hands of spades
the jokers themselves are bent.

we’ve been back bending for centuries.
keloid whips still traced in our bitterness.
we try & kiss
but our soured mouths revolt
with the stench of powerlessness.

we are bitches who try & hold
but  we are hoes
with unhealthy hearts.
we are niggas love deemed unworthy.

v.
on this nite,
we will have u love.
we will take u in.
our bones shall know affection & respect
our crowns will grow with grace
wild as lilies laced.
rebuild our wings, love.
plant acres of answered prayers.
cash checks paid by timeless dues  way past due.
from your plate we consume new food,
bask within enchanted gaze.

& if u evade,
we will seek you out in every cave.
blast you from the depths of every hell in every state.
we will hunt u love,
with a hunger that will never satiate.

noni

noni limar is a content creator, musician and love storyteller living in southern california.

SHE CHRONICLES: “Story #2,262,017” by Alice The Poet

Keeping My Nose This Time

       “It is not enough to be a woman writer. It is imperative that we are women writers who write about other women, responsibly.  Otherwise, we’ll continue to write rebuttals on misrepresentation or the utter absence of our literary presence.”

Recently I returned to the city that grew my art, Los Angeles, California.  It is not the city I was born and reared in, however; it is the city that I consider home.  Where I grew into a woman and an artist.

Not expecting anyone to write my story, a few years back I had the audacity to write a piece of Los Angeles poetry HERstory that was not talked about.  What prompts this post is, during my recent visit to Los Angeles when I spoke about this information in front of a crowd, I was asked to be mindful and tell the “whole story” of LA women in poetry.  Interestingly enough, I’ve never seen the “whole story” written by my male comrades nor during my visit did I hear any conversations that announced the “whole story” of women in poetry.  The four day span I was in Los Angeles, when “the good ‘ole days” conversations came up, there was a repeated rundown of the male figures that were prominent in the foundational game but the women were harmoniously absent from the listings.

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