This won't read as well on the page as it otherwise might because it's a performance piece and I can't factor in the rhythmical timings with standard punctuation.
And it is so.
Hopeless goals, dreams become drones,
Souls done down
Infertile moans.
You're a whore, a sow, a cow, a slag, a cunt on the rag.
A drudge as you trudge through domestic sludge;
Clothes to wash, kids to martial
Family shit in which to stay impartial.
You serve your man, your family
Loving unconditionally, giving all emotionally
All while desirous of being set free.
So take yourself in hand.
Face palm the man. Damn.
Do whatcha gotta do to redress this sham.
I look around and see this view sad and negative and down on you.
Don't take part. Take heart. Be you.
You're the best at being you.
Don't lose the weight, don't gain the pounds,
Don't bleach and preen and read magazines
Don't contort til you scream
Fuck the media ideal
You are your own brand of sex appeal.
Get into yourself, give into you
Screw the detractors and their harpy crew.
Unwind your mind and dig and find
The things you lost
And left behind.
Revisit the image you had at eighteen,
And reclaim again that beauty queen.
Surrender to your inner wants
Don't heed their cries
We're here but once.
So lift yourself up and fall in love.
The Venusian vision?
Don't envisage a visage airbrushed and painted,
Demolish the useless thoughts of self hatred.
In their place embrace your hands, your face,
The tits and lips and fecund hips,
The lithe length of leg, the fingertips.
Don't apologise for the size of your thighs
Readjust your eyes and focus.
You are nurture and nature
Earth and birth
You are the creatrix of all you observe
You grow the seed, you feed the wean
You do so much more than cook and clean.
You teach and guide
You love and lead
And bear and cope and strive and bleed.
So reward yourself
With affection and care
And rock the glinting grey in your hair!
Dress just for you and take time to read,
Control the remote and show yourself a vote
Of confidence.
Make space to laugh and bath and dance.
Expand and grow and nourish your previously waning soul.
Lash out, kick back,
Listen to The Smiths while wearing
Pasties and a g string
And don't give a shit
If it gives you a bit of a thrill.
You are fierce and fine in frame and mind
So allow yourself the power to be free of the bind
And grim grey grind
To blossom and flower
To ask for more, though you're raw
Fuck's sake, you are woman
So go ahead and roar.
Poetry by la tristesse
Read 822 times
Written on 2012-02-27 at 12:01
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Woman
They say woman is a hole into which pours all the sorrow of a world weary, carewornAnd it is so.
Hopeless goals, dreams become drones,
Souls done down
Infertile moans.
You're a whore, a sow, a cow, a slag, a cunt on the rag.
A drudge as you trudge through domestic sludge;
Clothes to wash, kids to martial
Family shit in which to stay impartial.
You serve your man, your family
Loving unconditionally, giving all emotionally
All while desirous of being set free.
So take yourself in hand.
Face palm the man. Damn.
Do whatcha gotta do to redress this sham.
I look around and see this view sad and negative and down on you.
Don't take part. Take heart. Be you.
You're the best at being you.
Don't lose the weight, don't gain the pounds,
Don't bleach and preen and read magazines
Don't contort til you scream
Fuck the media ideal
You are your own brand of sex appeal.
Get into yourself, give into you
Screw the detractors and their harpy crew.
Unwind your mind and dig and find
The things you lost
And left behind.
Revisit the image you had at eighteen,
And reclaim again that beauty queen.
Surrender to your inner wants
Don't heed their cries
We're here but once.
So lift yourself up and fall in love.
The Venusian vision?
Don't envisage a visage airbrushed and painted,
Demolish the useless thoughts of self hatred.
In their place embrace your hands, your face,
The tits and lips and fecund hips,
The lithe length of leg, the fingertips.
Don't apologise for the size of your thighs
Readjust your eyes and focus.
You are nurture and nature
Earth and birth
You are the creatrix of all you observe
You grow the seed, you feed the wean
You do so much more than cook and clean.
You teach and guide
You love and lead
And bear and cope and strive and bleed.
So reward yourself
With affection and care
And rock the glinting grey in your hair!
Dress just for you and take time to read,
Control the remote and show yourself a vote
Of confidence.
Make space to laugh and bath and dance.
Expand and grow and nourish your previously waning soul.
Lash out, kick back,
Listen to The Smiths while wearing
Pasties and a g string
And don't give a shit
If it gives you a bit of a thrill.
You are fierce and fine in frame and mind
So allow yourself the power to be free of the bind
And grim grey grind
To blossom and flower
To ask for more, though you're raw
Fuck's sake, you are woman
So go ahead and roar.
Poetry by la tristesse
Read 822 times
Written on 2012-02-27 at 12:01
Save as a bookmark (requires login)
Write a comment (requires login)
Send as email (requires login)
Print text
Blilith |
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