feminist PoetrY bY SFU StudentsEdited bY Tanyss Knowles

Parachutins Past PatriarchY

"I want to speak my voice! / I want to speak my real voice!"

- Muriel Rukeyser, "Suicide Blues"

Table of Contents

Introductionby Tanyss Knowles

Emily Murphy in Circulationby Sandi Chan

That Girl With No Fate But A Historyby Roghiyeh Razmara

An invitation to My Love oJthe Afterlife.by Shazia Peermohamed

Gross Body Hairby Joy Walcott-Francis

Punishedby Natasha Sanders-Kay

SPOTA controls the streetlights with switchesIvan Drury

Girl Power with Nobel Prize Winnersby Shiraz Ramji

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IntroductionTanyss Knowles

At times it is hard to separate the image of the picketer from ournotions of activism. However, the process of publishing feminist poetry isanother fonn of activism. In North America during the 1970s a successfulfeminist movement was underway but its poetic voices were strugglingto be heard. In response to the historical silencing of women, the andro­centrism in the publishing and poetic community, and feminists' desire touse poetry as a fonn of expression, the feminist poetry presses burgeonedin that era. By creating a space for women-controlled publications andgendered poetry, these presses took an active role in challenging genderedoppression, which in tum bolstered the larger Women's Movement of thetime. The purpose of this zine is to mimic the activism of those presses bypublishing the feminist poetry of SFU student poets.

I classify poetry as feminist by employing Rita Fe1ski's broaddefinition of feminist literature which "encompass[es] all those texts thatreveal a critical awareness of women's subordinate position and of genderas a problematic category." Therefore, in the pages of this zine you willfind a diverse set of poems - some written about history, some about love,some written by men - but all from SFU poets and all feminist withinFelski's definition.

My hope for readers of this zine is twofold. First, that this zinewill add to the tradition of feminist presses. And secondly, in reading thiszine, you will be reminded of the role art has in political activism, inspir­ing you to create a tangible political artifact for your own cause.

I would like to acknowledge and thank Roberta Neilson, LaraCampbell, and the Gender, Sexuality, and Women's Studies Departmentat SFU for their support and funding. As well, I applaud Sean Wilkinsonfor his beautiful cover art. Finally, and most importantly, a big thank youto the poets who submitted their creative work making this zine possible.

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Parachutins Past PatriarchY

Emily Murphy in Circulation

being passed aroundfrom wallets, cash registers and banksfor groceries, high heels and four months ofYasminCould she believe,that her face could exchange such things?

Would she understand that her master plan backfiredThat her social gospel,while impounding fallen womenand sterilizing the unfit,would be reversed andracistunacceptableby our 20 I0 norms.

keep circulating, until the next national art direction

P.S.: thank you for the Persons Case.

THAT GIRL WITH NO FATE BUT A HISTORY

Let me introduce myselfLet me adjust my hat, put on my high heels, doll myself up,And introduce myself

1 am that girl from the pastThat woman from the future1 am the history of my kind

1 am that nasty spermAnd that cute egg1 am that girl with supposeds to beRemember me?

Supposed to be a bride, not brightSupposed to own kids, not cats, not booksSupposed to buy home,To make home with teeth and nailAnd supposed to be .And supposed to do .

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Sandi Chan

Roghiyeh Razmara

I curse the supposedsI cursed my fateI cursed my fate and flew away

I shit on the cycle that lacks cats and cigarettesTum my blindest eye to the destinyMy destiny, a big supposed to be,Written, published, and sold way before my presenceWith a nice coverMy picture kissing my groomSmiling all the timeAnd titled" That Girl With No History"

I cursed my fateDid not believe in oneAnd became one

A hundred eighteen poundsFifty three kilosSkipped the wedding like a lunchSkipped the kids like a dinnerSkipped the mother, like a daughter

I skipped my motherDid not become oneI did not become my mother's bestseller

ow,I am not that girl of the pastThat bride with bright destinyLacking cats, books, and cigarettes

And now,My mother detests meDetests my cats, books, and cigarettesLoves the husbandAnd hopes for his spennUniting with my eggsAnd prays for meWriting a book, a bestsellerWith developed character, theme, and no conflict

o Conflict At All.

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Parachutins Past PatriarchY

An Invitation to My Love of the Afterlife. (Your Food is Ready Darling.)

Shazia PeermohamedBecause I think I could love you,only think and only could,I'll split my skin cleanaround the sternum.You can fork your path into

the endand suck thatspurting shit clean.

You see that the fat red thingis still beatingandbecause I think I could love you,you may openthose chambersas they beat.

Eat my spaghetti ofvein and artery,dip it intomy nowcongealing crimson cream.

Enjoy it my darling, please.

Eat my licorice clotsfor desert and let thehalf dry halfwetskin of bloodlinger on yourtaste bud.

And when you put your hungry hands on my breasts;a resuscitation.

Here I am honey muffin, thoughtyou lost me?

And the polyps of my taste budssmash softinto yours.

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Tongue sucking your silenced sighs andpicking and pluckingthose forked veins

j underin your mouthunderthe slide of your spit,banging into your teeth,you are ending andI am simply sucking.My pulp of red stuck inthe Fahrenheit ofexcitement.

Darling, you have a cavity,I do think so.

Eating your vanilla neck,my hands hungry on your chest;

a resuscitation.

Your body lapsedmagnetic back to mine,jugular vein bangs into canine.

The end.

ow startingin suspension,still,Both of us.Still.

Sideswept pupilsstuck staring atcontours in the wood skin

of our book cabinet intellect.

Those contours darling, are not so hard for usto climbnow that we're at.

the end.

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Parachutins Past PatriarchY

SPOTACONTROLSTHESTREETLIGHTS~THS~TCHES

Ivan Drury

street lights flicker on whenwalk near

act street in act

communicating

act presents theone present

the woman's manact

the act is communicating

whether windowsstreets present

or knowing

is public man

presentcommunicating

is fucking communicating

to move the night

when walks nearthe lights flicker on

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... PunishedNatasha Sanders-Kay

Punished for every fun fuck, every one night standevery drunken walk

in the dark

Was 1 wrong to wear red high heels and drink beer

And to smilewhen just the day before men on the street told me to smile

Like 1 was a stuck up bitchfor being afraid of the group of men staring at me

Tears and hot water bottles for a week

Apologies apologies

Teeth and tongue

Taught never to say noand to hate ourselves

for sayingyes

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Parachutins Past PatriarchY

Gross Body Hair

Dark chocolatey skinCovered smooth with shiny black hairFall effortlessly, uniquely

0, not curly, not pepper seed grainyBut straight and strongUnashamedly the strength of a black woman.

1, was proud of itSo too were my country menTo their brethren they would sayAs 1 go byThere goes an irie daughter

ubian Queen, highly blessed EmpressThe kind of woman to help 1 replenish this earthYes my brother, she, is a strong black woman.

To Delilah Samson lost his strengthAnd so did I to my colonial mastersSurrendering virgin legs, thighsTo razor and creamExposing now dark vulnerable poresTo unknown foreign elementsFor woe be unto her who parades such strength in public.

From deep within the subaltern screamsWanting to rebel, to fight back, to resist this oppressive systemBut 1 was a coward, 1 was weak1 opened my mouth to speak, no words came forthI pushed back, the walls did not budgeThen it hit me

No longer was 1 that strong black woman.

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Joy Walcott-Francis

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Girl Power with Nobel Prize WinnersShiraz Ramji

One, Two, / Nobel Prize, Women Winners

Three, Four, / Wangari Maathai, Toni Morrison

Five, Six, / Aung San SUll, Shirin Ebadi

Seven, Eight/, Betty Williams, Mairead Corrigan

Nine, Ten, / Rigoberta Menchu, Gabriela Mistral

Eleven, Twelve, / Marie Curie, irene Curie

Thirteen, Fourteen, / Jody Williams, Mother Theresa

Fifteen, Sixteen, / Jane Addams, Emily Greene Balch

Seventeen, Eighteen, / Alva Myrdal, Bertha von Suttner

Nineteen, Twenty, / Nadine Gordimer, Doris Lessing

-Sharon Olds

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