Friday, October 8, 2021

 Remembering Tangren

A small collection of memories of the Southern Oregon Woman Writer's Group, Gourmet Eating Society and Chorus

 

Monday, April 5, 2021

 

Tangren Alexander  1940-2021

"It's difficult to find the words to have a conversation with Death."-- Tangren, March 22, 2021.

Tangren Alexander was a beloved teacher, prolific writer, and imaginative photographer who studied the cosmos, created art and story with dolls, and was a mainstay of the vibrant lesbian feminist community of Southern Oregon. She was also a loving mother, sister, aunt, companion and friend, known for her generosity. Tangren left for the stars on March 26, 2021.

Friday, May 22, 2020

For the Woman Who Asked Why I Write Dirty Poems



Father! Make him stop this solitary vice.         
The boy is touching himself, 
spilling his seed, 
killing his babies,
self-abuse. 
He'll go blind. 
He'll go crazy. 
He'll die young. 
He's a pervert. 
Satan controls him.
Bind his hands. 
Beat him each night. 
Tie his wrists to the headboard 
so he can't reach his parts. 
Strap his feet to the bedpost 
so his thighs can't rub. 
Cover his genitals 
with a hard metal shield. 
An obstinate case? 
Attach a red hot wire to his penis.

Peaches and Cherries     

Each September
you bring me peaches
picked from the drooping branches
of your carefully tended trees.
You select the best, unblemished
caressing the velvet
of sun-touched fuzzy globes, 
rose-tinged gold.

Monday, April 27, 2020


blessing Brigid's waters


come …
ye young nymphs
and sage women too
come …
catch the mystery
of Brigid's sacred pool

Monday, April 13, 2020

Two Sides Of The Coin


It's as easy to fall in love with a rich man  
as a poor one. 
He won't buy the cow if he gets the milk for free. 
Marry a doctor.
Wait for your prince to come.
Maybe I'll meet a rich man.
Sex is my duty to my husband.
How much for a lifetime?
I can't afford to leave.

Monday, March 23, 2020

Reclaiming


Corona: 1. A rare and glorious sight during full eclipse of the sun, radiance made visible.
Corona: 2. In the night sky, a constellation, a circle of stars
Corona: 3. All outer events called to a halt, no going to gatherings. Performances and performings vanish alike.

At 7:30 this morning, I make a grocery run. The Coop so quiet, the surprisingly many shoppers not stopping to hug in the aisles. 
We quickly fill our carts. 
Back home, groceries unload in the still chilly day.