More Ekphrastic Poetry from “Many Votes, Many Voices”

Not Silenced by Thelma Giomi

Inspired by “Weapon of Choice” by Nancy Holt

I have known the silence of my own voice. I have spoken and not disturbed the air.
In a room filled with men
There was no affirmation of my voice Until

Until I stood and demanded to be heard. You laugh because you know
The words still did not matter
But now, holding this,

This sacred form in my hands, My Voice is as loud as theirs. It is a powerful voice
That marks my choice.

There is such a chorus around me,Women’s voices
Not silenced.
Power-filled.

Keeping the world alive.

WEAPON OF CHOICE by Caroline LeBlanc

Water wears away stone.

Even gentle drops, one

At a time, one after another, can

Plow out rivers destined to flow

Over eons. Over time the way becomes

Natural to the soul.

Once upon a time, hearts burned. Their

Fires blazed high and wide.

Crossed divides between shores:

Him and her, you and me, us and them.

Opposites danced—sun and moon—light

In rivers of water and stone.

Could we, content, step into such waters

Enough to leave not one behind?

Of the Mutiny on “Titanic" by Bill Nevins

When that great ship hit a berg and started its deadly plunge The doomed captain ordered women and kids into life-boats But some rich men said, whoa no we gotta go—

first!
We have invested too much in this life
We need to cash in our chips
On good seats-- here’s money to secure our places on boardBefore any maids and brats
But the boldest brave women voted with up-raised oars And knocked those rich fools over board
To sink or swim with their fellow sharks
And take their stocks bonds and petty cash
Down with them.

Then the women took the tillers
And guided those lifeboats safely home
Oh so may our great ship ever sail safe, sail on.

The Vote by Dianne Layden

Inspired by “Equality and Justice” by Tomás Wolff

Also by my ruminations about suffrage, lived experiences, and a statement recently by someone knowledgeable that the U. S. Capitol initially had no restrooms for women, as men at the time couldn’timagine that women would ever serve in Congress.

I love to vote.
After learning about
candidates and issues,
I enter my polling place joyfully, thank all the poll workers,
the little “I voted” sticker
on my car’s dashboard
for weeks after an election,
all elections – national, state, local.

I have cellular memoriesof when women couldn’t vote,
weren’t allowed to vote,
didn’t have a women’s bathroomin the halls of Congress,weren’t admitted to universities
and professional schools,weren’t allowed to practice their professionsif, somehow, they completed their education.

Yet, if I lived in the nineteenth century,
I too would have placed abolition of slavery ahead of my right to vote.

Years ago,
I ran for office in a social group
though I knew I would lose,so the other candidate wouldn’t be elected
on a “white ballot”.My dad chastised me:“You don’t run when you know you’re going to lose.”No regrets, Dad.