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'zine
March 'Zine
Luckily war broke out that spring
Dije Demiri Frangu
Luckily war broke out that spring
I was neither young nor old
and I could look it in the eye
I had learned many fairy tales to tell to children
I drew the face of freedom in a plain notebook
I made it beautiful and they enjoyed looking at it
luckily war broke out that spring as there were flowers
to cover the grave mouths and they were many
how deeply scarred was the field
I’d bought 10 kilograms of salt,
10 kg of potatoes I could hardly carry home
I never wondered why I got so much
since then I have a twisted spine
I’d gone back to the city’s Guardian Angel church
I took candles
hoping we would cast out the dark and show freedom the way
It’s really good war broke out in March, April, May and June
Somehow the sun stayed longer in the sky
You could see the bomber planes more clearly
And not a single bullet managed to hit me
If war broke out before or after
I could have been killed by the bullet
I am convinced that I would have been killed
And long forgotten by now
Luckily war broke out that spring
And I didn’t get killed
February 'Zine
(Demeter’s) Astronomic Voyage:
Our mothers are daughters too.
Demeter, Mother Earth, had her child stolen from this world deep into the underworld. A woman stripped, she raged. She invented winter, a representation of her scorn and suffering on this physical earth. They say the womanly trait is to give, to be Atlas holding the heavens on her shoulders, to be Rosafa, roots under a castle in eternal sacrificial body… What would ‘they’ know about the appetite of a woman in search of her soul? How she devours the knowledge of her lineage like a caterpillar, fattening up before her time in the cocoon. She sees what can only be seen with eyes closed and speaks to those who can only be found in different worlds. She creates portals and steps through them, open to all who came before and what is to become of her. This is a mother’s journey, a woman’s journey. I do not fear Demeter. Nor do I fear her wrathful winter, any longer. For now I know Mother Earth is in search of her connection, and no story can end in search. As winter comes to a close, soon Demeter returns to her daughter and to herself once again. Until then, close your eyes and see.
-G.R.
EAT
Meditations on January ‘24
Growing Pains. A new tooth kicking out the old. Does nature dare stop turning because you don’t like the rain? Go outside once more, smell the air, and notice how she washed the Earth clean. We stay alive because of change; our inhale transforms into an exhale and into an inhale time again. These little births and deaths are celebrations of eternal cycles that are ceaseless, relentless, and ruthless. Women are forgiving creatures, so we were gifted unforgiving internal cycles of which we must store the balance of the universe. Women are creators, born into a lifelong practice of death. It appears in that sense we are born stillborn. We embody, at our first breath, a contradiction, a paradox. A miracle. So, what is the cycle of the living skeleton woman, who embraces life even in death and death even in life? The beauty exists in the exploration! We know who we’ve been, not who we’ll be. Perhaps the light ahead was the light within all along. Who are you now? Where does it hurt? Can you smell the rain? It’s coming soon to wash it all away and begin anew.
-G.R.
January 'Zine
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