guest writer, poetry

Piercings

by Chris Hawkins. This poem appears in Boshemia Magazine: BODIES. Photo by Connor Irwin.

 

Your earrings were still on my desk,

one week and half after you plucked

each from either lobe and left them

to glimmer in the energy— Continue reading

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music, poetry

We Were Not in Love

Gail Webb wrote this poem during Boshemia’s Made-in-a-Day Zine workshop with Dizzy Ink. The theme of the zine was Nostalgia. Look for more of her poetry in the upcoming ORIGINS issue of Boshemia Magazine. 

 

WE WERE NOT IN LOVE

We were not in love 

Though we listened to 10cc

Day after day it gave us pleasure

So much we would squeal, sigh

Then flop back on the soft turf

Lying side by side, smiling,

Gazing upwards to another world Continue reading

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guest writer, poetry

Before It Happened

CW: sexual assault. 

 

you have to understand

who i was before it happened.

 

youth surged through my veins

seeped from every pore

filled my sanguine lungs

laced every breath.

young and fun and a little dumb,

in my prime.

 

age five, high tide

some cloudy beach

each collapsing wave dissolves into

glitter and seafoam

think i could prolly drown here.

whip around, see the dunes

the seagulls on the shoreline

sherbet-colored beach houses

my mother under the umbrella

and i wave.

when you’re five, on the brink of

a vast expanse of ocean,

comprehend fear and endless depth,

then realize you are safe –

it’s a feeling akin to joy.

fling handfuls of wet sand

into the deep.

laugh, leap.

 

i have to remember

who i was before it happened.

 

i danced bachata at a party

liked cheetah print, Gwen Stefani

boys with cologne and roaming fingers

snuck raspberry vodka into water bottles

laughed at horror movies

lived for the summer,

made each one better than the last

 

on the precipice of self-discovery,

newness and bliss

when identities are malleable as clay

mine was molded for me.

happened right before the summer

 

in truth,

my life began inside my dorm room

frozen on the bed, numb under his weight

in a moment of recognition,

i looked back up toward the ceiling

and tried to see the seagulls on the shoreline

 

on cue –

the door clicked shut

and i began to adjust

to who i am now,

before it happened.

 

 * 

 

they call Dr. Ford an inspiration,

a warrior

and it’s hard not to agree.

strong backed and stoic,

right hand raised

eyes closed in an expression

that says this is her sacrifice,

her call of duty.

the chamber lights bathing her

in a pool of warmth and radiance,

trying to pretend she’s not before a row

of angry men

keen to burn her at the stake.

 

but unlike Joan of Arc,

who wanted the fire

something tells me

a warrior gets to choose

when to draw her weapons

and when to burn

 

Christine.

blonde and bright and brilliant

on the white cliffs of youth and summer

i like to think of her then, of who she was,

before it happened.

 

 

this is a battle

i have fought for so long

from the confines of a therapy room

to the National Mall

i have balled my hands into fists

made blows

screamed into the void

these are sacrifices i’m willing to make

this is pain i’m going to feel

this is a hill i’m willing to die on

and yet sometimes

 

i‘d rather have a tree to sleep under

and to dream of who i was

before it happened.

 

 

there was a time in your life

when trauma didn’t rear its ugly head

when there weren’t any nightmares

when you didn’t clutch your keys

when the world seemed opportune and bright

and when youth seemed a natural transition

into the womanhood you deserved

and the strength you always knew

you had in you.

 

so when you draw your weapons,

fight for your sisters and your daughters

fight for the world you’ve always wanted

 

but most of all, fight for you

for who you were

before it happened.

 

Photo by Iwan Shimko. For more work by Taylor Wear at Boshemia: Hot Dating Tips for the Completely Undatable, I’m Here! I’m Queer! I Promise, On Permanence, and  On Fleek || Lipstick Revolution.
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Bo-Arts, letters

dear spencer letters // the poetics of a love story, pt. 2

A poet previously published in the Bo-Arts series, Anna Aileen See-Jachowski shares another series of poetry with Boshemia. Written in the styling of the letters from Katharine Hepburn to Spencer Tracy, Anna’s poetry is a love story reimagined in a contemporary context. These are love letters 3 & 4 of 6. 

antonio-lainez-322588.jpg

antonio lainez

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art, author: Eve, poetry, pop culture

Cole Sprouse // Instagram as a Medium for Poetry

from Eve Jones — UK intern at Boshemia.

Cole Sprouse may be known to you as Cody from Disney’s The Suite Life of Zack and Cody, he may be known to you as the kid from Adam Sandler’s Big Daddy, or even, most recently never-takes-his-hat-off Jughead from Netflix’s Riverdale.

I too enjoyed his introverted character and, admittedly, his face in Riverdale, but after following his instagram account I was surprised by the nuance of his photography and poetic captions. There’s a lot of rubbish on social media; I don’t particularly care for a standard selfie, nor am I especially riveted by what you ate for lunch, and I’m certainly not interested in 17 post fails so awkward they’ll make me cringe, even if number 11 will surprise me.

However, Cole Sprouse’s instagram is a social media page that I enjoy following and religiously read. It is one of a few successful transfers of art from page to screen that I have seen. Even as our online lives become increasingly ephemeral, I go back again and again to this page.

//

Instagram is an interesting medium for art. The standard structure of instagram captions is free-verse and you can’t control line breaks—the transfer from typing the caption to its presentation on the app is idiosyncratic, and can change again if you’re reading from the computer site. But this complements the streaming narratives of Sprouse’s longer captions which tangent, then return to the image content, with linguistic elegance.

Sprouse 1

Sprouse2

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Bo-Arts, Creative, guest writer, poetry

Bo-Arts // the poetry of Jenny Moran

Bo-Arts is an ongoing arts and creative writing initiative to give a larger audience to emerging creatives. Our goal is to provide a platform for feminist artists to share and discuss their work. 

This selection of poetry is brought to you by Jenny Moran. Jenny is an Irish student and writer. She co-founded Trinity College Dublin’s feminist journal “nemesis” in 2016, and has been previously published by Icarus, Campus.ie, and Unpredictapple.

selected poetry

as flies 1.png Continue reading

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