Title (as given to the record by the creator): fat womon/renaissance
Date(s) of creation: 1978
Creator / author / publisher: Sharon Bas Hannah
Location: Venice, CA US
Physical description: 16-page PDF of a poetry chapbook, and a film of the author reading one of the poems
Reference #: FatWomonRenaissance-1978
Source: Largesse
Links: [ PDF ] [ Film ] [ Sharon Lia Robinson ] [ Sharonah Robinson Archives ]
Chapbook transcript:
fat womon/renaissance
poems by Sharon Bas Hannah
fat womon/renaissance
poems
by
Sharon Bas Hannah
“My name speaks trust it is ancient
I am called fat womon”
fat womon/renaissance
poems by Sharon Bas Hannah
copyright © 1978
by Nomad Press
P.O. Box 5621
Santa Monica, Calif. 90405
distributed by the
New Haven Fat Liberation Front
Box 342, New Haven, Ct. 06513
(please note that addresses are not current)
aiming to share the spoils
in egypt she was queen
oiled flesh amber
lifting round the moon
in such temperate climates
she danced freely
her fortune sold
for bread and pearls
robes of satin
sashayed with crimson
garlands before the waterfall
here she arrives
shattered by a wound that has no ending
rough edges cover her body
with a spat on future
living in a body that is spat on
she is a survivor of specialized murders
like the rough edges of an abyss
surrounding her future
her thighs have been
the strange mirror
for a tryst of forsaken loves
a cactus of frozen petals
from her luck in history
more and more a longing:
to dance in the sweetness of flowering
dignity
to share the jewels
ageless ancient
of her existence.
whoever i am i’m a fat womon
the space of a silhouette
entering the space of a silence
curvatures of silk
caverns flooding
welcome to a canyon:
she’s a horsewomon
a tennis match
a champion runner
she’s an artist womon
a desert womon
a dancer
she’s a fat womon
a fashion hall for dreams
she’s a seeker your lover your sister
a dreamer a bohemian a thinker
your doctor she’s a healer
a psychic her stories will set you free
herb lady
masseuse
mathematician
architect
sexologist
clothes designer
museum curator
sculptress
archaeologist
a farmer
a laughter’s echo
she’s a fat womon
a fat womon
a womon
bound to cut
this earth of the shadows inside her
cliffhanger
ballroom dancer
go-getter
bartender
scene stealer wheeler dealer
a leaper a runner a roller
she’s a fat womon and she’s breathing
the unknown womon
the womon who flavours her own song
she’s a genius
she’s extraordinary
she’s an ordinary girl
she’s a fat womon
cab driver copper welder tea drinker
street walker prude
she’s a blues singer
a floutist a drummer
a pin up girl
an ice skater
an icecream lover
a hindu
a hiker a kite flyer
your shadow on the tightrope
she’s a fat womon
your shadow
a brake mechanic
a concert cellist
a jazz saxaphonist
leaping on laughter’s echo the rhythms of
her life.
poet playrite witch nun Jew
surfer
bathing beauty
high heeled sexy tramp
scorpio rising
rubenesque pearl
priestess potter shoemaker
hairstylist jeweler
thankyou. a furniture design.
the womon procurred by money
the womon who is heard above laughter
the womon who walks beyond
the streets of desire
the womon who has always walked these
streets
with passion
the womon who has taken over the space of
her body
and the womon who has refused to conquer
that space.
worker bohemian boss scholar aristocrat
roadrunner sailor weaver
a fat girl
she’s a wallflower
socializer leader recluse wanderer
an advertisement for love:
in lillian russell days
you’d follow her
her bare ankles
down the rivers muddy edge by foot
making love to her on your knees
she’s a stallion a fleet of rivers.
feel the womon
whose river bathes in mammoth luxury
tracing the moons
that are inside her
she’s an aesthetic womon
she’s a plastic womon
she’s a junkie
a hobo
a housekeeper
candlemaker
chiropractor
stuck up bitch
fast smiler
on welfare
or could be
she’s a fat womon
the silent womon
worn
with a mask around herself
the womon who is challenged to a duel
the womon who is tortured
tied to the bed and raped
the womon who always sleeps in black
the womon who never says “excuse me”
or smiles when she’s supposed to
the womon whose existence is in question
rough outrageous dull graceful ingenious
exciting to be alive as being a fat womon
she’s a deep sea diver
a windmill climber
a motorcycle mama
and a bicycle rider
she’s a fat womon
she’s a snow shoveler
a short stopper
a wind lover
a heart breaker
certain truths
will make your heart beat fast
when you hear them from a fat womon
you’ll grow pale
get chills
disbelieve
but she’s marching toward you
she’s here and she’s taking back her life.
a tough springer
a dead ringer
watch the stones
they throw
her will turn
to looks of beauty
the stones
they throw to works of art
will turn to looks of beauty.
(The anthology of women’s writings on oppression Shadow on A Tightrope takes its title from this poem, which was also published in the book.)
where am i
where am i?
in most places
yet i’m not supposed to be here at all.
in the eyes of a greek orange cat
i bellydance
in robins eggs and tree seasons
i meander.
limelight/5:01
the moon is getting full
would Beth ever climb a shady tree
unchallenged we walk to the grocery
putting out a face in limelight
chanting
the opera singer neighbor
navels folks who made fun of your body
younger folks made fun of mine
pity
lets go for a swim
fat circus woman
in a sense we’re all
fat ladies in the circus
our image sized up
too full too plush too contrary
won’t satisfy the cosmetic lie.
blackk
I’d like to plunge through
La Brea tar pits become a nun
wear black all day so no one’d
sea
scars.
storm waves
rain an open air intruder
violating the streets
allows her to go out in public
she orders pancakes
and dances down the beach
her hips in wild waves
an ocean few can see.
uninvited space
a great fat woman
hips swaying wide
claims to be an actress
and you who see the film
might renounce old illusions
mistakes bad attractions
and you who know the score
recover your minds
to see you’ve been had
like this woman
remembering
the smile your eyes once buried
those looks which murdered her mind
like this woman
slashing contortions
shaming betrayals
shattering insults
dissolving the blindness
as
she
dazzles you with her life.
laughter bursts
I something new
corning from the moon
who dances best here
can a fat woman have the part?
II backstage a woman is leaping
through the whispers
public looks
diet sodas
toward center stage.
ore
your essence speaks
refinement
not yet refined
a secret language
yet
we talk
chiseling out of silent stone
the jutted teething form
the silent sculpted eyes
finding concreteness in the aura of clay
your nearness
turning each minute
on its mask of dance
unmasks the form they tried
so many times
to bury.
comets in the snow
she has left a funeral of sunshine
where her bones were bleached by
indifference
she has cast her self away from warmth’s
illusion in a california sun
in the streets of an east coast storm
her flesh can grasp fire
in winter’s ice camouflage
an image walks
once scorned dismembered for a lifetime
with other women shadows in vaults of mist
unshriveled slowly opening
heretics
our varied shapes our ancient patterns
a cosmos vision abducting the heavens
as wintered ice reaches past times lost
galaxies
secret fires
under ice of ice
are warmed luminous illumined alluring
joyful to display their self discoveries
renaissance of womanhood
reclaimed in forms rubenesque,
willendorfian.
