The Poetic Political
Fumings of a Feisty Feminist
Making waves of change, one poem at a time.
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Disparity in pay
To her utter dismay. Same as a man But valued less than Work that is equivalent Yet some are ambivalent To compensate us equal Really should be legal. As the U.S. Women's Soccer Team wins their 4th World Cup Title, they continue to be paid less than the U.S. Men's Soccer Team that has yet to win a World Cup Title. https://www.vox.com/2019/7/10/20686692/us-womens-soccer-team-parade-equal-pay
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I’d rather be a corpse
Than a woman any day No one could touch my body Without my final say I’d have more autonomy With legal rights embed Than a real-life living woman Just too bad that I’d be dead. https://www.dailykos.com/stories/2014/8/14/1321787/-When-a-corpse-has-more-rights-than-a-woman It’s really rather funny
That you claim to be pro-life Because your hatred and your anger Have created quite the strife. Death to any woman Who dares decide what’s best For her body and her family Unable to protest. As you alter our democracy Into a harsh theocracy Founded on misogyny Your holy-hailed hypocrisy As Texas tries to pass a law that would make it possible to kill a woman who has an abortion, I felt it necessary to write this poem. https://www.washingtonpost.com/nation/2019/04/10/texas-bill-would-make-it-possible-put-women-death-having-abortions/?utm_term=.4f0b7e116d99 The faithful are the ones
Who abolished civil rights The President confirmed it This really should suffice. From separating children And locking them in cages Ensuring inequality For women and their wages. For those who seek our help We’ll build a bigger wall And if you are a Muslim There’s no entering at all The Bible touts forgiveness And loving one another But also stoning children If they disrespect their mother I guess it all comes down To which verse they choose to cite To guide us and our principles As they abolish civil rights. https://www.washingtonpost.com/politics/2019/02/07/trump-lauded-abolition-civil-rights-his-gaffe-did-not-go-unnoticed/?utm_term=.7c52cebb161e Contained within the pen
Is the future and the past The words declared Imagined in ink Ascribed to society There is a power Within the pen One’s thoughts Transformed into words. Define the sexes Define the races Define us. For centuries Men controlled the pen Prescribed our roles Restricted our bodies Restrained our minds. Understanding this We now know, She who controls the pen Controls the power. What will you write? Two videos caught my attention today. The first was a video from HONY in which a mystic discusses the “control of the pen”, and second was a clip of Pat Robertson discussing the need to dismiss Saudi murder concerns because we’ve got a 190 billion dollar military arms deal with them. It was another realization that this “pro-life” religious leader actually cares less about lives and more about money. It’s time we give everyone a pen—let us define our own lives, roles, bodies in the ink of identity. https://www.facebook.com/humansofnewyork/videos/2052973148110108/ https://crooksandliars.com/2018/10/pat-robertson-shrugs-saudi-murder-cites For centuries women have fought
for equality, freedom, and personal autonomy But the truth remains Our bodies are puppets Manipulated by the men who fear us It is only when we acknowledge this truth That things will begin to change When we finally determine our destiny We will control our bodies And find our own justice. Rape kits no longer delayed Abortion restrictions removed The lifelong decision of motherhood Will be ours-- Not the politician’s or the church’s. Shame has no place here anymore We left it on the muddied doormat of indignity As we walked away and never looked back. Afraid of no one We stand tall Confident in ourselves Finding strength in each other As we take our first breath And cut the strings that controlled us. The closet doors burst open And the skeletons run free Fear and shame are vanquished Now all the world will see How you’ve threatened and abused us As we struggled to be strong Too scared to raise our voice Silent suffering too long Shared stories of our torment Unite us as we speak With the truth and realization That it’s you, not me, who’s weak. I wrote this poem as more and more stories about sexual abuse and assault continue to come to light with the #MeToo movement. As we begin to "clear out our closets" from all of the skeletons that have haunted us for far too long.
I’m finding the words
To explain my anger Having felt voiceless for so long my voice cracks when at last I finally scream. You say I need protected You say I must be pure Yet you promote and grandstand assholes with grabby hands and sinful desires But the truth is right before me I can see it with my eyes You don’t give a shit about me Or my bodily demise. Power is your weapon And domination is your goal False values and morality Cloak what we now know. Control her body Control her. No more. No more will we listen No more will we believe you. Finding strength in my freedom. Feeling joy in my rebirth. Knowledge lights my path. And love of my self-worth. It’s destructive path has decimated
The lives of far too many. Destroying all within it’s way Annihilation unlike any Ripping lives apart A horror to get through To all of those affected Must start their lives anew Rebuild, get help, and find a way To make it through Another day. Texas and Hollywood Won’t be the same When Harvey is to blame. What a year it’s been
For men in high positions Unable to control themselves And their sexual afflictions. Bill O’Reilly and Roger Ailes At the Fox News media station With their sexual harassment And inappropriate flirtations. Harvey Weinstein is the latest In this Powerful Pervert Posse To target pretty actresses He was corpulent and cocky. Let’s not forget Mr. Weiner And his dick picks to a teen This gross old man’s got problems He’s quite disgusting and obscene. Pro-Lifer Rep. Tim Murphy Just got busted by his mistress Telling her to get an abortion His hypocrisy’s quite twisted. Justin Caldbeck is no longer After his sexual attempts No respect for any woman His sleazy actions in contempt. And what about our president The leader of our land With his gross and grabby fingers On his small and wrinkled hands. “Grab ‘em by the pussy” Sexual assault and crude cat calls If they ever try again, I say We “Kick ‘em in the balls!” Our reproductive souls, Are so much more than that. We are equal humans, Wearing a variety of hats. From doctors, scientists, Mechanics, and lawyers, To college professors And military soldiers, No longer the days, When women should be, Only baby factories for their families. Our brains are quite brilliant, And our hands very skilled. As we work towards a future, That we valiantly build. Strong in our minds, And our bodies too. I know, we know, Now if only you knew, That these, “Reproductive souls of society” Will no longer have to, Battle defiantly. Towards misconstrued beliefs, And harmful ideology, Of religious dogma’s, Fictitious anthropology. We are talented women, With a very bold mission. Which goes far beyond, Solely parturition. (Listening to the Lars Larson radio program on 4/25/17 around 12:30. A caller called in to talk about the Manchester bombings and talked about how sad it was because, “Women and girls are the reproductive souls of our society.” When we define women as reproductive souls, we define them by their ability to bear children—something that could not happen without men. But I have yet to hear men spoken of in such a way.) How would it feel, To be defined by your semen? And thought less than women, Because of your penis? Prohibited from all, Ejaculation. The sins of any, Form of masturbation. Cherished solely, For your millions of sperm. Creating new life, Would only reaffirm, Your bodily skills, Of reproductivity. Yet always thought of, As completely unequally. Some states would require, You cremate your seed. Mandated ultrasounds, That you must concede Three day waiting period, To see a physician. Then a few other tests, To confirm your emission. Your body is no longer, Yours to determine. As your pastor explains, In a sinful sermon. Told that your sperm, Is religiously sacred. Belittled, demeaned, Yelled at, and hated, For choosing to want, Something bigger and better. But being incapable, And unable to let her, Define you as something, Worth so much more, Than just your average, Sperm-spewing whore. (*As I wrote the following poem, my 10 year old son was just down the hall sleeping in his bed. I didn't want him to ever hear this poem, but I realized that my daughter, and women/girls around the world are faced with similar judgement from others on a daily basis with what they do with their bodies—particularly their reproductive bodies. This poem is nothing new to them—for it happens all the time. And in writing this, I realized the horrible, absurd guilt we place on them with regards to their own bodies. They read it in the news, see it on t.v., and hear it from the politicians. They read it in books, in talk amongst their peers, they are even judged by of all those who shouldn’t—their family and friends. And those places that claim to be free from judgement and “safe places”, such as churches, are often the most judgmental with regards to women’s personal autonomy. So, I switched the roles. I put men in the place of women and tried my best to judge them for what they choose to do with their own reproductive bodies with the same vitriol that has been used against women. It is a gross disrespect to do this—either to men or women. )
As the Fearless Girl braves the world We watch as grown men come unfurled We see their insecurity And sexual immaturity A peeing dog to fight their battle Afraid to sit upon the saddle Of the Charging “Bull” of masculinity Fear her fierce femininity For only a girl Can show the world Man’s true asininity! I wrote this poem in response to reading these stories about the Fearless Girl statue. The peeing dog gave me the push to sit down and write “Fearless Girl”:
https://www.washingtonpost.com/news/morning-mix/wp/2017/04/12/charging-bull-sculptor-says-fearless-girl-distorts-his-art-hes-fighting-back/?utm_term=.2248d0cd9375 http://www.huffingtonpost.com/entry/man-humps-fearless-girl-statue_us_58c4a268e4b0d1078ca72c93 https://www.usatoday.com/story/news/nation-now/2017/05/30/statue-peeing-dog-appears-next-fearless-girl-statue-nyc/355289001/ The heart of a mother,
Beats with raging fire A strong sense of devotion, Willingness and desire Her mind is full of questions Her longingness to find The meaning of her life In all of humankind Searching through the valleys Of heartache, love and lust When today leads to tomorrow And the world seems so unjust. Her beating heart won’t stop Or ever take a break Until her dying breath At last she finally takes. |
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Poetry by: AsherahAlthough she was selectively edited out of the Bible two thousand years ago, she raises her voice for women today in hopes of a better tomorrow, as she makes waves of change, one poem at a time. Archives
May 2020
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