I am repulsed by sexual innuendo Men who use it are sleazy They don’t respect my boundaries They don’t respect me They don’t respect women   When we deflect their advances They call us bitches They think they’re entitled They’re not Cecile Ravell©2025 I wrote this poem after I was recently subjected to inappropriate behaviour. Yet again. When I was younger, I froze when confronted by uninvited advances. It wasn't flattering then, it isn't flattering now. But now I have a voic

He slithers into the room Like the snake that he is   Towering over me Invading my space   His fetid breath makes me gag He recoils at my disgust   No words Just a look conveys it all   I am revolted by you Crawl back under your rock

Hi eyes flash, his teeth bared in a hungry grin. He’s advancing towards me. There is nowhere to hide. In one fell swoop he is in my space, glaring down at me. I feel beads of sweat breaking out on my upper lip. A scream catches in my dry throat. I look left and right, scanning the area for a means of escape. He’s now towering over me, drooling, his hot breath on my face.   A hand encircles my arm. ‘Are you okay?’ a male colleague says, as he steers me away from the office pre

Defenseless innocent child buried in rubble Wars endless Killing senseless Children orphaned Parents bereft Buildings razed Earth...

In the early 1990s, I worked as an advocate in a women’s health information centre. My supervisor was a lesbian and a radical feminist....

I remember the walk you and I took in the Woods of Powell River, nearly thirty years ago – We didn’t need to talk; we just drank it in –...

Cecile Ravell (2022) Warrior Woman Press ​ Book review Meredith Fuller OAM ​ Cecile Ravell, a creative memoir author and poet, writes...

“I love Paris in the winter when it drizzles” kept repeating in my mind as I huddled in the shelter of Alèsia station, protected from the deluge that gave no signs of abating. Commuters jostled past me, oblivious to my plight as I tried to read the now sodden map. ‘Stuff it!’ I said to no one in particular. I dragged my suitcase to the ticket sellers window and asked directions, while I pointed to a street on the map. She averted her gaze and slammed the ticket window shut.

Born in "Hell’s Kitchen", New York City – the girl-child of Maltese immigrants from a war-devastated country – Cecile moves back to Malta...

I could walk forever beside the Yarra – the river that runs upside down Fish hide beneath its murkiness Kept safe from heron that abound...