Monday, February 28, 2011

surviving social awkwardness

feeling
as though being "social"
becomes insurmountable
a mountain never attainable
not able
to climb


it's not
okay to show
depict
display one's
true self because
no one wants to know
if you're not always
feeling happy and
positive
about life
or everything


can't imagine others'
lives are so filled with
joy
speaking about pain
and negative feelings
leaves others not
wanting
to befriend
"don't want to talk
to you if it's
not happy
and if it's about
me
not you"


never having been
at the height
popularity
always hanging
somewhere down
below
based on social
norms
including such
constraints as
geekiness
awkwardly
speaking to
people
and never
really knowing the right thing to say
always being on different
pages of planets
unknown to others


in own worlds of space
perhaps there is
a space for me
for people like
me
are there people
like me?


so scared to be
myself
it hasn't worked so far
and so far
its only hurt my heart


it aches trying to
figure out this
complicated mess of
social expectedness
negativity
versus correctness
against norms
towing party lines
of black and
white and always
hearing the  
musings
sayings
bullshit
lines justify their
okay-ness
for me to be different
from them
as they walk backwards
from our conversations


lost in a world so deeply
filled with expectations of
agreeable behaviours


wanting so badly to
be myself but un-allowed
to be
scared to be


so i sit
quiet in rage
silent in thought
heart in hand
wondering which path
i can be safely opinionated
on

Monday, February 21, 2011

She sings and colours...

Her innocence is still so raw
and beautiful
as she sits and colours so intensely
singing and making sounds depicting
spiderman

almost all in the lines
so specific and precise
her face as young as the new
fallen snow just outside
our window

hair is tossed and slightly
knotty as she sports her Tink
nightgown with bright
pink
soft and cozy socks
picking all the crayons out of
the
box
shoving back in the ones
that haven't been chosen to
colour her masterpeice.

so innocent and brave
speaking all the words that
venture to and from her thoughts
never really scared or
faltering from her
intentions

unknowing of all things
scary
this world
will
offer her

my mind wonders of the beauty
and love she could bring
to our planet
forgoing every influence
and challenge she will face
in
life

be still my love
be you
my dear
my caring
young innocent
child

Sunday, February 20, 2011

choice is not choice when your forced to choose one choice

a battered body
without money and often
desperate
its not a choice when you're
starving to live, it's all you can do
to stay alive while being
raped and abused by men
around the world
visiting because they know what they'll
get when they visit you

a chance to penetrate
the will of yet another battered woman
do what he wants to her
with what he thinks is consent because
he's paying "her"
he "thinks" he's paying her
pimps getting paid through
these woman's orifices

so unjust is our world
with all we know to take such
advantage of women
to put them
down
to the ground, to not respect
beautiful creatures who make your young
who create your world

with all your knowledge and humanism
you strive or pretend to strive for
how can you allow such disgusting behaviour
to continue

turning a blind eye because
police, and judges are being paid
to look the other way
because men get paid
a lot

the man
who keeps putting her there
in that bloody pool
in that threat of death
in that misogynistic
wrath
that so disgusts me

it is not a choice
it was not her choice
it was NOT HER choice
NOT HER choice
NOT a CHOICE

she has no choice

aggression...apathy...guilt

Building of machines of
hate
anger
aggression, killing people
walking through the tunnels that
create these
monsters of destruction

watching imaginary figures being
blown to
smitherines by these machines
trying to convince myself every day
of the peacekeeping they're doing

what will stop these aggressive beasts
but women
of power, maybe
can I delude myself sufficiently to
think that maybe women would
make the difference and create peace?

power is a tricky devil
of destruction in itself killing the
brilliant mind that may be behind

if i were there
and
not here, it wouldn't be so
easy
would it?
to hide behind this guilty border of death
to pretend i am not to blame

me
a woman taking money from a company
that will kill and sells to enemies
friends
abroad

i am ashamed and yet excuse it because
i don't see the death on my doorstep
every morning
whilst preparing
for work
needing the money

so sorry, so sorry
many more dead
i'm so sorry

Monday, February 7, 2011

Really?...feeling more than a little judged...

Really?

this
stance ?
you take
i can't have
and form
a reasonable
scientific opinion
because it
differs from the
norm
i am disallowed
my right
to hold
convictions
tight

it's water
and no
i won't go on pretending it's
anything more

shall i create
alternate selves
and hide
behind
wide curtains
to not offend
you

my beliefs
based on
fact
because I'm a feminist
i have to believe
what you
believe?
and to not...makes you
mad
offensive
defensive
sad
for me?
Don't be.
Thank
you

Belief
in these
pills
something
that can't
in any
current
scientific
realm be proven

these facts
i know
it's what i require

and somehow
that will never be enough
to satisfy
you

so
know that
i will be true to
me

i will hold tight the knowledge
which is supported by fact
and NOT
sit idly by and
let people tell me to be quiet.

Hypocritical
it would be
of me
to sit aside and pretend
i don't feel so strongly
that it's wrong to promote
the unproven

i preach without a doubt
the scientific evidence
to which supports the very
claim
that normal birth
without intervention
is the best choice
for the normal
average
empowered
woman!

how could i sit beside
a woman
and suggest her to labour
without medication
because that's what science
says is best
conversely then prop up
some alternative medicine
unproven and say it's
OK?

rather,
i promote to women
to men i know
through
mass social media
to dig further into research
the claims given by those
whose facts aren't driven
by method scientific
i chose
to support
in
birth

Sunday, February 6, 2011

Strength, hidden.

A moment in time
while scheduled
was strange
and beautiful

while she lay there
on
table
waiting for her
unborn
child
being born
by scalpal
to see his face
to know his
life.

Scared
yet informed
more than
before
as much as
they will tell her
her right to choose
empowerment lost
but
not
gone

She waits
patiently
the good patient
quiet and unknowing
what will
come next
what right will they
bestow upon
her
for HER birth

Not many
...wait...
because
here it comes

the only control
she can
have
she feels she has
and knows
she
has
she wants
and will get

Cloudy is her
mind as she
crawls from the
depths of the
cut
drugs fading
slowly

greeting
vomiting
it's not pretty
but
something more
powerful than
this Doula
has seen

a knowing, strong
and deep
crawling up from
places unseen

drugs fading
baby aside
deep determination
strong
will
to survive this
attrocity
to
be strong against
this forced
doctrine
of idiocy
she breastfeeds
to bring back
her power
fresh is
the pain

not stopping
her

My vantage
point is clear
she is
the bear
protecting her
cub
this strong
empowered
woman
drawing strength
from
places that feel
damaged
from pieces
left from
authority
telling her
that's she's broken

Fuck you
doctors, women
named Susan
and all
you
people who
think
she can't
when she
CAN

Obvious to
me
maybe not to
her
she has never
seemed so
strong and
beautiful
as she
is right
now
feeding
her young
boy at
her
breast

Books to Read

  • Demon Haunted World - Carl Sagan
  • Bearing Witness