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redrosethorns journal
Conscious raising, frequently utilised by feminists, involves individuals sharing their experiences to enhance awareness of social, personal, and political matters. This method has proven highly effective in fostering unity, building communities, and shedding light on broader issues affecting diverse demographics worldwide. It's a means of expressing our identities and experiences, ultimately empowering us.
Inspired by this approach, redrosethorns launched an online journal publication aimed at facilitating conversations about mental health, gender, sexuality, self-care, and empowerment.
ISSN: 2978-5316 (online)
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Magpie
Maggie was at the gynecologist when she realized she might not be a feminist. With her bare feet propped up on the stirrups, her underwear bunched up inside her purse, and Dr. Jennings’ gloved hand currently prodding at the space between her legs, her thoughts were decidedly un-feminist in nature. She was not thinking about womanhood, or sisterhood, or the advancements in reproductive health that allowed her to be here now; she was thinking about how much she regretted not sh
Ella Newell
May 22, 202511 min read
Into the fold
I am living large
In a time of split lips and bruised oranges
Like a bug caught in amber, suddenly revived
Anthy Strom
May 22, 20251 min read
Will You Be Mine?
I asked you to see me. Suffocating. My breath stuck somewhere in over-expanded
lungs, dying to exhale- gorged to the edge of implosion-
Not with noxious refuse of the blood,
With truth--Begging for light.
Jill Euclide
May 22, 20252 min read
Onion Skin
I peel a friendship today…
Shuck the crisp skin
Off another’s pride.
Reduce this warrior’s armor
To a soft, discarded rind.
Sam Barbee
May 22, 20251 min read
Questioning the Suspect
Why did I walk out that day
into the river that flowed
faster than my intentions?
Escape was in my body’s movement
while my mind had stopped
at remembrance of your face, your voice,
Christine Emmert
May 22, 20251 min read
Comet Riding
Climbing aboard
is easy
compared to balancing
the bucking journey
through the stars
to new pastures
feeding my pleasures
with their bounty.
Christine Emmert
May 22, 20251 min read
Blooming Spirit
As I went for a walk through nature last winter, I could see spring coming out of the silent trees, the bushes, and even the ground. Everything was becoming alive and vibrant again; everything was ready to flourish and scream its vitality in colors. It happened last spring, and I’m quite certain it will happen this year, too: just as I could see nature around me starting to bloom again, I could feel my soul blooming too.
Sara Gasparini
May 22, 20253 min read
Harbinger of Death or Damned Nuisance
The nurse, not the regular hospice nurse, but the stand-in named Lori, was by today and said that before people die, they hallucinate, become anxious, and lose bladder control. That’s what my husband’s doing. Does it mean he is dying? If he is, those problems are not permanent, and I can get through them.
Sylvia Keepers
May 22, 20252 min read
Dance
The overlap of threaded vein, set upon the skin
Of muscled sinew in the flesh
In hands of carnal sin
That grips the curving
Sensually swerving
Undulating hips
Cassandra Manuel
Apr 25, 20252 min read
The Final Femboy Year
The gothic style of a rosebud tattoo
Manifested treacherous ideas from within
My scarecrow-like figure
Was forever signified by serendipity
CJ The Tall Poet
Apr 25, 20251 min read
Her Voice
Early one morning, her beloved husband brought a cup of coffee to her in bed. “Surprise!” he said. The real surprise was that that was the day he started drinking in the morning. He poured coffee for her and vodka for himself. She thought he had become the husband she dreamt about, but no, he thought first my vodka, then your coffee. She deluded herself believing he was being kind. No, he planned to keep her out of the kitchen while he drank.
Rosemary Williams
Apr 25, 20255 min read
Iron Cross
My trans daughter walking among pines and oaks
Her ambling feet whooshing leaves
Sap sticking to her shoes
A bicycle tramples her
Face slammed. Rock shards
Eye stitches
MD Bier
Apr 25, 20251 min read
Fall Mood
I forget what silence feels like
until I step outside into a breathless
moment when wind pauses
at the frayed edge of an afternoon.
Sharon Scholl
Apr 25, 20251 min read
Spec’s
I like your glasses, they whisper,
as though they know most people
would object to them.
They are on the gaudy side,
sunset pink with mottled blobs
that pass for a design.
Sharon Scholl
Apr 25, 20251 min read
On the Tip of my Tongue
I’m trying to dredge up a word
that accounts for time’s tendency
to run out, leaving many duties lapping
the dawn shores of another day.
Sharon Scholl
Apr 25, 20251 min read
Birthright
You were born knowing
you are one
with the sun’s light,
moon’s radiance,
the calm dawn opening
to birdsong.
Carolyn Chilton Casas
Apr 25, 20251 min read
Grappling
The dharma teacher tells us
to whisper breathe as we fill our chests,
then ease on the cleansing out breath.
Am I getting too old to handle stress?
Have I become overly sensitive to chaos?
Where is my upbeat outlook on life?
Carolyn Chilton Casas
Apr 25, 20251 min read
Must I Feel It All
The more I age, it seems to me
my mission here is to feel
it all with equanimity.
Not push away the pain
or tuck what brings
discomfort down inside.
Carolyn Chilton Casas
Apr 25, 20251 min read
The Tightening
How sweet, the words we write-
Under tinted sun of gray.
Sons of sons, unborn but ready
To tell us our crimes.
A glancing breath,
The total of self-ellipses our tongue
And dies.
Olivia Austin
Apr 25, 20251 min read
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