End Of The Month Message!

Well today is the last day of March and so we wave goodbye to the last of winter and welcome the start of spring!

April also contains our best friend Julia's birthday on the 3rd, my cousins birthday on the 21st and the gentleman Alex Annan's on the 14th! So a pre-happy brithday to them all!

April also means exam time is coming so unfortunately you will be seeing a lot less of our material and much more of others stuff and revision and homework leave us with no time to write! *SOB*

But nevertheless, this has been a good month and we've found some amazing poetry by women which, we aren't afraid to admit, we had never even heard of before!!!

So here's a final farewell to womens month, winter and our freedom! GOODBYE!

Erykah Badu - Friends, Fans and Artists

A Woman's Dictionary

Here is an...interesting...email i was sent a few days ago by a female friend of mine. The scariest thing about the following dictionary is how true it all is! Click on the image to make it bigger and easier to read


Together Forever

Greyt golden vynes plat ed down to her slender sholders wit he rownd
Shimeryng joowel of a bronze amylet on her bare brisling brest
she the thin tal firs be syde her and in the gleemyng lake therin
Cleer carved cheekbones left then ryt then twynklyng temple then sparklyng chin
Worterry glitteryng green iyes stil for al the sukulent syts
sheen saffire of nos of warter and blisful bronze nos of land
For one moment fayce to fayce then al one fayce tht not unmayk
Magestic ampul prynces now the magestic ampul layke

“Hath thou seen th Wife of Bath?”
“Ay me on the morrow I didst see her go
dresed all in blak by the old church footpath”
“Buryng anuther yung husband no dowbt”

“Thou shalt not scorn this poor womans fayte
three husbands has she lovingly marryed and more so buryed”
“Thers no need for thy long winded berate
when thou knowst not the corse of their untymely demyse”

“Doest thou exort of a murder?”
“Nay merely passing on the tayl
of a wydespred town murmer”
“Oh let us speek of such horrors no more!”

“Hath thou seen th Wife of Bath?”
“Ay me on the morrow I didst see her go
dresed all in blak by the old church footpath”
“Buryng anuther yung husband no dowbt”

“Such queer reckonyngs hav I of this woman
For our Lord to take ther sols so many”
“Five husbands all ded is surely a devils omen”
“Yet she burys them at our Lords own home”

“Regard how hyly she holds her hed
As if she nose we speek of her thus”
“Perhaps she is filed with a guilty dred”
“Oh let us speak of such horrors no more!”

“Hath thou seen th Wife of Bath?”
“Ay me on the morrow I didst see her go
dresed all in blak by the old church footpath”
“Buryng anuther yung husband no dowbt”

My young sweet vergyn mayden Amedea has
Goldyn locks of silk curlyng bout thy face
Emitting a glow so strong with such shyne
Sinners seek salvation at thy noble grace
this delycate porclayn Venus of myne makes
Acrid shokyng stayned flowers dye artless
and dusty doves drown of sorrow in far away lakes
Thy eyes. O! Thy eyes render me speechless
should but vulgar words be hung for ther crymes
I beg of thee my paytent wife to smyle than
shudder at my grey aged touch and cry
that thou were not promised to a younger man
Burn me to ashes and cast me ‘cross turmulus sea
so thy may love me as true I do thee

The sweet Elizabeth and I
are to elope tonight
No more rules to bind us so tight
Forcing us to conform

Now we shall live by the stars above
our grassy loving bed
And the whispered laws of nature
calling us in the wind

Lavish lifestyles are for old maids
with nought else as comfort
We live on the beat of our hearts
and by thy loving gaze

We feel not of hunger or thirst
mere mortal emotions
We drink and delight in pure sight
of our own earths beauty

These flimsy whispers we call women
Do not touch upon its meaning.
For true composure and grace,
One must seek to gaze
Upon the image of Lady Erpingtine.

Think long brown curls swept up
into an elegant twist at the base of her neck.
Not unlike many styles of the hour,
but unlike any style of another,
with nought a curl out of place, or a hair out of line.

A black lace bodice did encase
from her bosom to her waist,
her statuesque frame
with every chiselled feature
draped with an obsidian shawl.

Her onyx cotton collar dress
Is buttoned down the back,
With small pearls tracing the curve
Of her arched and rigid spine
that her childhood did befall.

Her prominent nose proclaims
A family history of strong warmongers
Killed before their time.
Her ellipsoidal lips enunciate
A family future of powerful femmes.

On admiring her tenacious persona,
She turned and caught my eye.
The piercing sepia read my thoughts
and riposted with a stare, aimed
at my desire, to condemn.

Jen pulls her silk satin dress
Over multipack underwear
and zips her leather brown boots
Over 15 Asda derniers.

She dabs rent rouge on her cheeks,
then smears her free sample Dior
on the chest with the £100 locket
hanging on the £10 chain.

She fills her Louis Vuitton bag
with her home-made lunch
then shuts the door to her riverside condo
and runs for the 92.
She was born with a silver-plated spoon,
Perched between her lips
To scoop up her porridge
2 parts milk, 3 parts water.

Back throo da times ders idoltry wid adultery
walkin hand in hand throo never endin sands
Same story, same sequel just a change of face
we tink we develop, we believe we’ve grown
but da past never lies it’s all set in the stones
to haunt us, to teach us, to remedy our ills
dess ain’t no minor claustrophobic thrills

Dis is our future, our present and past
Love keeps us goin wedder we wan it or not
but what we want ain’t no concern for dem at the top
We can’t love too many, we can’t love ourselves
we can’t make moves to a gal while we’re stackin shelves
She don wan no nice guy, she wans a nice cheque
Got da dollar bills love bite on da side of her neck

Gash ain’t de same as dey was in old dayz
Dey gon’ all picky like dem at subway
but dey all eyelash and lippy wid nuttin to say
Gone are da suffragettes of dat Victorian past
fightin to break down der limitin caste
Now dey pull out der tits for dat cash
dat propa fit bloke or dat well mental bash

Robyn Williamson

4 MONTHS!

happy b-day glitters

HAPPY EASTER!


Glitter Graphics - GlitterLive.com

Comic poetry: "The Moth - A Warning"



A very short poem about a moth - live poetry performance by satirical humorous poet Adam Taylor.

"Psychotic Bitch" Mollie Angelheart (Def Poetry)

The theme for April will be...

...Discovering Yourself!





Next month will be all about finding out about yourself. They will be true stories about people finding themselves, poems about who you are and interviews related to it too! Exciting stuff, aye!

Rob and Sym

Up The Duff

I propose a toast to the revivial
Of life in this ole home o' the bitter
Eeveryfinks got a new look t'it
n the drinks all seem ta glitter

I shall 'old up my 'and and admit
I weren't arf tired of the watered down gin
Thrown back down the parched throats
into 'Er Majesty's bin

Up on tha shelf are the 300 bottles to help you
forget (n there usually gon in 3 days!)
Ere's hopin yours will only sweeten
Up Prince Charlies sour old face

Ya did good, bein' tha firs n all
Haggus in a row o' roasts
Hen in a row o' cocks
Dy-dy-dyk...Er in a row o' lamposts

All o' us 'ere at the Queens 'Ead
Fink you'll be bloody good
Fer our kids, our Maj, our 'eritage
and do more than any ovas could

Robyn

My Lady

Beauty holds no value and the eyes blind
For none but she can bring the stirring in
My paunch nor calm he thundering of my
Seas of anger, fear and doubt. Tender soul
Hath she, yet her brazen fire spits sharp sparks
At the flesh of the wily wretch who dare come
Close to mine person. Lionnesses strive
To match her regal and powerful ways
But fail as badly as those who seek
To take this loyal servant from his queen
Death reigns supreme above life without her
Yet, when i am alone, darkness descends
Upon me, for there is no greater pain
Known to man than that of the broken heart

Robyn xxx

16/05/2008

"Wife... Woman... Friend" Dana Gilmore (Def Poetry)

"What A Woman Must Do" Ursula Rucker (Def Poetry)

HAPPY ST.PATRICKS DAY!!!


St. Patrick's Day Glitter Graphics

Comic poetry: "Nth Degree"



A short poem about hyperbole - live poetry performance by satirical humorous poet Adam Taylor

Thought of the Day: Symone

Sitting in a Wilfred Owen lecture with my AS English Lit class (and about 10 other classes) I look around, one girl is reading a magazine, another is texting; three girls are gossiping with the two boys who reside behind them and another boy asleep on the shoulder of a friend. I can see, at least, 14 people with headphones in, and then there's me: frantically scribbling away on a piece of scrap paper. Now, don't take the impression that my class are outstanding, one girl from my class is on her DS; another is listening to her iPod; another appears to have more concentration on the attractive Hatch Ender beside her than anything else.
This is our 4th lecture today- we have about 5 mins left and the room knows it. The restless are becoming more and more active in their movements, more daring. One boy is already packing his bag.

These lectures are meant to be for our benefit- this is laughable as the amount of people i noticed bothering to take notes i could count on my hand. I have noticed that students- we seem to think that education is a joke- one could argue it is (the watering down of subjects etc- however that's another thought)- we are playing Russian roulette with our grades. Some of the points made today by lecturers were gold, yet the students I see before me seem more interested in the opposite sex, celebrities, and sleep. This is the future of Britain, is it any wonder why so many of the A-Level students (that i know) are having to resit exams taken in January?

My chemistry teacher was talking to us the other day, about the global brain race, about the shortage of jobs, and how when we get out of university, we will most likely still be knee deep in this 'recession'. He said, '... not only will you have to compete with each other for jobs, you'll also be competing with students from Japan, India, China and Africa. You need to have something more than just decent grades. Looking at your results, you're all probably going to end up with out a job, and you'll say 'I wish i listened to my teacher... he was right' Because, let's face it, when you leave university (if some of you make it that far), are you so naive to believe that you'll get that one last accounting job or that one last internship at that hospital. You've got your head screwed on wrong if you do...'

I think there will be a lot of surprised faces in August when we collect our results, resits all round. Society has become so relaxed with education, we will regret it.

Thought Of The Day: Robyn

I am sooooo SICK of people not being able to handle others success and so they feel the need to bitch about it and make up rumours!!! STOP BEING JEALOUS!!!!!

HE IS A BOXER
HE DOES KNOW AUDLEY HARRISON
HE'S NOT LYING
DEAL WITH IT!
AND I AM NOT A GULLIBLE IDIOT FOR BELIEVING HIM!

Jeeeezzzzzzzzzzzz.

Ok i feel a bit better now. Sigh.

"Try Being A Lady" Sista Queen (Def Poetry)

Together Forever


Greyt golden vynes plat ed down to her slender sholders wit he rownd

Shimeryng joowel of a bronze amylet on her bare brisling brest

she the thin tal firs be syde her and in the gleemyng lake therin

Cleer carved cheekbones left then ryt then twynklyng temple then sparklyng chin

Worterry glitteryng green iyes stil for al the sukulent syts

 sheen saffire of nos of warter and blisful bronze nos of land

 For one moment fayce to fayce then al one fayce tht not unmayk

 Magestic ampul prynces now the magestic ampul layke


“Hath thou seen th Wife of Bath?”

“Ay me on the morrow I didst see her go

 dresed all in blak by the old church footpath”

“Buryng anuther yung husband no dowbt”


“Thou shalt not scorn this poor womans fayte

three husbands has she lovingly marryed and more so buryed”

“Thers no need for thy long winded berate

when thou knowst not the corse of their untymely demyse”


“Doest thou exort of a murder?”

“Nay merely passing on the tayl

of a wydespred town murmer”

“Oh let us speek of such horrors no more!”


“Hath thou seen th Wife of Bath?”

“Ay me on the morrow I didst see her go

 dresed all in blak by the old church footpath”

“Buryng anuther yung husband no dowbt”


“Such queer reckonyngs hav I of this woman

For our Lord to take ther sols so many”

“Five husbands all ded is surely a devils omen”

“Yet she burys them at our Lords own home”


“Regard how hyly she holds her hed

As if she nose we speek of her thus”

“Perhaps she is filed with a guilty dred”

“Oh let us speak of such horrors no more!”


“Hath thou seen th Wife of Bath?”

“Ay me on the morrow I didst see her go

 dresed all in blak by the old church footpath”

“Buryng anuther yung husband no dowbt”


My young sweet vergyn mayden Amedea has

Goldyn locks of silk curlyng bout thy face

Emitting a glow so strong with such shyne

Sinners seek salvation at thy noble grace

this delycate porclayn Venus of myne makes

Acrid shokyng stayned flowers dye artless

and dusty doves drown of sorrow in far away lakes

Thy eyes. O! Thy eyes render me speechless

should but vulgar words be hung for ther crymes

I beg of thee my paytent wife to smyle than

shudder at my grey aged touch and cry

that thou were not promised to a younger man

 Burn me to ashes and cast me ‘cross turmulus sea

 so thy may love me as true I do thee


The sweet Elizabeth and I

are to elope tonight

No more rules to bind us so tight

Forcing us to conform


Now we shall live by the stars above

our grassy loving bed

And the whispered laws of nature

calling us in the wind


Lavish lifestyles are for old maids

with nought else as comfort

We live on the beat of our hearts

and by thy loving gaze


We feel not of hunger or thirst

mere mortal emotions

We drink and delight in pure sight

of our own earths beauty


These flimsy whispers we call women

Do not touch upon its meaning.

For true composure and grace,

One must seek to gaze

Upon the image of Lady Erpingtine.Think long brown curls swept up


into an elegant twist at the base of her neck.

Not unlike many styles of the hour,

but unlike any style of another,

with nought a curl out of place, or a hair out of line.


A black lace bodice did encase

from her bosom to her waist,

her statuesque frame

with every chiselled feature

draped with an obsidian shawl.


Her onyx cotton collar dress

Is buttoned down the back,

With small pearls tracing the curve

Of her arched and rigid spine

that her childhood did befall.  


Her prominent nose proclaims

A family history of strong warmongers

Killed before their time.

Her ellipsoidal lips enunciate

A family future of powerful femmes.


On admiring her tenacious persona,

She turned and caught my eye.

The piercing sepia read my thoughts

and riposted with a stare, aimed

at my desire, to condemn.


Jen pulls her silk satin dress

Over multipack underwear

and zips her leather brown boots

Over 15 Asda derniers.


She dabs rent rouge on her cheeks,

then smears her free sample Dior

on the chest with the £100 chain

hanging on the £10 chain.


She fills her Louis Vuitton bag

with her home-made lunch

then shuts the door to her riverside condo

and runs for the 92.

She was born with a silver-plated spoon,

Perched between her lips

To scoop up her porridge

2 parts milk, 3 parts water.


Back throo da times ders idoltry wid adultery

walkin hand in hand throo never endin sands

Same story, same sequel just a change of face

we tink we develop, we believe we’ve grown

but da past never lies it’s all set in the stones

to haunt us, to teach us, to remedy our ills

dess ain’t no minor claustrophobic thrills


Dis is our future, our present and past

Love keeps us goin wedder we wan it or not

but what we want ain’t no concern for dem at the top

We can’t love too many, we can’t love ourselves

we can’t make moves to a gal while we’re stackin shelves

She don wan no nice guy, she wans a nice cheque

Got da dollar bills love bite on da side of her neck


Gash ain’t de same as dey was in old dayz

Dey gon’ all picky like dem at subway

but dey all eyelash and lippy wid nuttin to say

Gone are da suffragettes of dat Victorian past

fightin to break down der limitin caste

Now dey pull out der tits for dat cash

dat propa fit bloke or dat well mental bash

Robyn Williamson


"Single Life" Dufflyn (Def Poetry)

Def Jam Poetry - Thea Monyee' "Woman to Woman"

I'm The Other Woman

I’m officially the other woman, the one we all despise

The sneaking, cheating, hated one but not the one who lies

See he must play his own part too for this affair to work

And he’s the one who has a wife so how come he’s no jerk

He leaves his wife. And tells her lies.

But it seems its not his fault… I led him on.

So i’m offically the other woman, the one we all despise

But hold on just a minute I’m not the one telling lies

Ananda

The Secret Ninja

I was looking at the Sunday Times magazine, which has a picture of Kate Hudson on the front of it. Now normally, i would have been tinged with green at the sight of the model-turned-actress, but not today.

On first view, the picture is quite typical: lots of make up and lots of airbrushing which make her look ten years younger and ten times better. But on closer inspection, i noticed that you could see all the creases in her face where the make up and had sort of....gone weird. Her lips looked like they belonged on a 70 year old with small creases all along her top lip, and an odd unnatural shine ran across her forehead, revealing many makeup-clogged pores.

Could it be that the very thing that is supposed to make her more beautiful, is actually taking it all away? Could the same be said for all of us? Have we been warped by society to believe that we need make up to be considered beautiful, and yet we all know that it can have disasterous effects on our skin!

Let us all take a moment and think seriously about what the bloody hell it is that we put on our faces anyway. How many ingredients to make up could you list? How do they get the mascaras so black? Oil? Charcoal? Who is it tested on? Where is it made? In what country? By who? What is different in the ingredients of a £10 mascara compared to a £30 one? How do they manage to pull out my eyelashes? All these questions, and so few answers. The strange thing about it all is that i know more about the lives of penguins (March of the penguins: bloody awful film, but interesting!) than i do about the chemicals that i put on my face and spend a good deal of my money on!

I say we should take the song title of my new favourite french song to heart:
Laisse tomber les filles qui se maquillent
FORGET ABOUT GIRLS WHO ARE COVERED IN MAKE UP!
Instead, lets embrace natural beauty, or at least until we find out whats in make up...or until the next party...

International Womens Day

This article has been taken from http://www.internationalwomensday.com/about.asp, the official website for the international womens day

International Women's Day has been observed since in the early 1900's, a time of great expansion and turbulence in the industrialized world that saw booming population growth and the rise of radical ideologies.
1908
Great unrest and critical debate was occurring amongst women. Women's oppression and inequality was spurring women to become more vocal and active in campaigning for change. Then in 1908, 15,000 women marched through New York City demanding shorter hours, better pay and voting rights.
1909
In accordance with a declaration by the Socialist Party of America, the first National Woman's Day (NWD) was observed across the United States on 28 February. Women continued to celebrate NWD on the last Sunday of February until 1913.
1910
n 1910 a second International Conference of Working Women was held in Copenhagen. A woman named a Clara Zetkin (Leader of the 'Women's Office' for the Social Democratic Party in Germany) tabled the idea of an International Women's Day. She proposed that every year in every country there should be a celebration on the same day - a Women's Day - to press for their demands. The conference of over 100 women from 17 countries, representing unions, socialist parties, working women's clubs, and including the first three women elected to the Finnish parliament, greeted Zetkin's suggestion with unanimous approval and thus International Women's Day was the result.
1911
Following the decision agreed at Copenhagen in 1911, International Women's Day (IWD) was honoured the first time in Austria, Denmark, Germany and Switzerland on 19 March. More than one million women and men attended IWD rallies campaigning for women's rights to work, vote, be trained, to hold public office and end discrimination. However less than a week later on 25 March, the tragic 'Triangle Fire' in New York City took the lives of more than 140 working women, most of them Italian and Jewish immigrants. This disastrous event drew significant attention to working conditions and labour legislation in the United States that became a focus of subsequent International Women's Day events. 1911 also saw women's 'Bread and Roses' campaign.

1913-1914
On the eve of World War I campaigning for peace, Russian women observed their first International Women's Day on the last Sunday in February 1913. In 1913 following discussions, International Women's Day was transferred to 8 March and this day has remained the global date for International Wommen's Day ever since. In 1914 further women across Europe held rallies to campaign against the war and to express women's solidarity.
1917
On the last Sunday of February, Russian women began a strike for "bread and peace" in response to the death over 2 million Russian soldiers in war. Opposed by political leaders the women continued to strike until four days later the Czar was forced to abdicate and the provisional Government granted women the right to vote. The date the women's strike commenced was Sunday 23 February on the Julian calendar then in use in Russia. This day on the Gregorian calendar in use elsewhere was 8 March.
1918 - 1999
Since its birth in the socialist movement, International Women's Day has grown to become a global day of recognition and celebration across developed and developing countries alike. For decades, IWD has grown from strength to strength annually. For many years the United Nations has held an annual IWD conference to coordinate international efforts for women's rights and participation in social, political and economic processes. 1975 was designated as 'International Women's Year' by the United Nations. Women's organisations and governments around the world have also observed IWD annually on 8 March by holding large-scale events that honour women's advancement and while diligently reminding of the continued vigilance and action required to ensure that women's equality is gained and maintained in all aspects of life.
2000 and beyond
IWD is now an official holiday in China, Armenia, Russia, Azerbaijan, Belarus, Bulgaria, Kazakhstan, Kyrgyzstan, Macedonia, Moldova, Mongolia, Tajikistan, Ukraine, Uzbekistan and Vietnam. The tradition sees men honouring their mothers, wives, girlfriends, colleagues, etc with flowers and small gifts. In some countries IWD has the equivalent status of Mother's Day where children give small presents to their mothers and grandmothers.
The new millennium has witnessed a significant change and attitudinal shift in both women's and society's thoughts about women's equality and emancipation. Many from a younger generation feel that 'all the battles have been won for women' while many feminists from the 1970's know only too well the longevity and ingrained complexity of patriarchy. With more women in the boardroom, greater equality in legislative rights, and an increased critical mass of women's visibility as impressive role models in every aspect of life, one could think that women have gained true equality. The unfortunate fact is that women are still not paid equally to that of their male counterparts, women still are not present in equal numbers in business or politics, and globally women's education, health and the violence against them is worse than that of men.
However, great improvements have been made. We do have female astronauts and prime ministers, school girls are welcomed into university, women can work and have a family, women have real choices. And so the tone and nature of IWD has, for the past few years, moved from being a reminder about the negatives to a celebration of the positives.
Annually on 8 March, thousands of events are held throughout the world to inspire women and celebrate achievements. A global web of rich and diverse local activity connects women from all around the world ranging from political rallies, business conferences, government activities and networking events through to local women's craft markets, theatric performances, fashion parades and more.
Many global corporations have also started to more actively support IWD by running their own internal events and through supporting external ones. For example, on 8 March search engine and media giant Google some years even changes its logo on its global search pages. Year on year IWD is certainly increasing in status. The United States even designates the whole month of March as 'Women's History Month'.
So make a difference, think globally and act locally !! Make everyday International Women's Day. Do your bit to ensure that the future for girls is bright, equal, safe and rewarding.

Persuasive Speaking Tips : How to Write an Introduction for Persuasive Speeches



How to videos from ehow.com

100 word review: Man's Search For Meaning

Seeing as this book is about the Holocaust, be prepared for a sad, depressing story. It is not the same as every other Holocaust story, however, as it looks at the psychological effects of the events of the Holocaust on the people involved. It is written by Viktor E. Frankl who was a Professor of Neurology and Psychiatry at the University of Vienna Medical School and founder of the school of logotherapy. A great book for anyone interested in histroy, psychology or sociology but I personally found the scientific and psychological explanations a little dull and skipped most of them.

"She Said Id Prefer A Broken Neck" Amir Suliman

Welcome to Women's Month!

Here on HomeGrown Writing, we are taking a mini break and showcasing the wonderful talents of the many female poets out there!

Everyday we will be posting one by a poet you are likely to have never heard of as well as videos of different women's performance poetry!

Don't forget, the 8th is International Women's Day, so grab your girlfriends and celebrate! =]