In the wake of the recent attention given to a very non-recent problem, I offer up these two pieces – to the women who have survived and suffered and wake up every day to live and to fight. But also to the men who don’t get it, who fail to see the plague hidden by the privileged purview…perhaps this will help.

“Just Say Hi” is directed specifically towards men and those who perpetuate toxic patriarchy by engaging in sexual harassment.

“Art Without a Frame” is dedicated to all the women who have learned to hate themselves, shame themselves, “Do not let – the powers that be — place your Goddess self – in hands of gods who don’t believe – in you…”

 

Transcript of pieces below.

Featured image by A. Kaminski – featured in Paradigm Lost. 

 

 

JUST SAY HI

He said “take a compliment” –

like I was mad at a real attempt –

to tell me something —

I’d be proud to hear

I’m not proud to wander thru this cloud –

of misogyny, this progress lobotomy –

I’d be just fine –

if instead of that bullshit line —

you’d have just said hi

I wasn’t raised to hate you so Put that Feminazi bullshit away —

I wasn’t taught to roll my eyes when a man says they’re nice –

or raise Hell if you tell me I’m beautiful

I’m a woman, and if you be a man –

you’d understand –

that a compliment’s meant to aim higher –

than objectifying the person you give it to —

And that’s not just for me –

respect yourself enough –

to see how fucking Stupid you seem —

when you whistle or cat call –

all that you’re saying is you lack –

the vocabulary —

the very intelligence, post Neanderthal sense —

to use your words –

and say something

When you throw out that line –

what you’re hoping to find is not a woman –

but a thing –

so I suggest you try –

that Shit –

on blow up dolls and rosy palms, coz with me —

that shit won’t fly

I’m not a “chick”

I didn’t hatch out of a fucking egg and I’m not a girl anymore —

I’m not a boo, a baby, a “hey you,” a sweetie, a cutie –

and don’t fucking tell me to smile

And even just that –

that You’re taken aback —

that I’m talking back, I should be so bold

to hold you accountable –

for the mind numbing, brain dumbing bile –

dribbling out of your mouth —

Would you talk to a man that way?

Would you call him a bitch for calling you out —

I doubt –

you ever even thought of it that way

Sexism isn’t just slaps to the face —

it’s a covert disgrace on a social, political stage –

a collective black eye –

on half the Damn human race –

a lower wage, respect never paid, our bodies just pawns in rich white men games –

damn right I got rage –

for this which perpetuates

I’m not out here for your fucking entertainment —

my vagina is innocent of war crimes —

unlike the suits and ties you don’t care enough to regulate

And if you don’t see –

how your degrading lines —

tie Into this rhyme –

then you need to spend some time –

with your own mind, thinking why

you see me as a Thing to Objectify

Then let’s meet Back at this corner –

explore the humanity, starting off —

with a simple —

single —

hi

 

ART WITHOUT A FRAME

Her fingers settled gently on her other wrist

clasped like this

her quiet hands rested just

just so perfectly in front

as if evolution had taken note –

to protect from intruders with this simple gesture, my dear

just put down your hands

My gaze followed the curve –

that swerve from meeting hands to outer orbits –

the graceful bend of hips —

curving home to heart and soul —

a waist not whittled, neither little nor big no —

these adjectives are shit —

the dumbest common low —

beLow the heights of shape –

that warp the mind, move the eye with every line –

and whisper to the soul

wow

The arms that placed those hands —

that held those fingers now demand –

a level of attention –

worthy of my mention –

collar bones that heave and ho –

with each and every breath —

the chest that marks the life force –

of this life force and my own –

as human

and as human being hold –

being held

a mass crescendo I won’t quell, I don’t know how to

Her knee then bends as if to say –

there’s half of me that wants amends –

don’t forget these lines –

that draw the basis of it all

a pedestal for this above, and Yet –

no simple columns awe

the awesome is the strength and grace —

again I Dutifully trace –

imperfections perfectly

placed

I find myself

Battling the pleasure I did crown —

to stone cold statues Made to be profound –

what I admire there –

is how you carve a human out of stone!

I can’t recall, or it was rare –

where I would stop and trace those same sweet lines —

that here in these few moments I do find —

But this is inspiration!

So close related —

Like art without a frame –

I stand in awe –

of this creation

Stop —

before you call it god —

there is no being –

that can call this wonderment his work –

no this is millions –

of years and accidents —

a happenstance of perfect random gears —

acting to accomplish two –

that made this one –

this one —

that now —

has made herself —

has carved her own –

from evolution’s stone –

has built the beauty that I now recount to you, my duty —

to share this pride of woman —

from no absolutist place of power –

no will to siege, to rape, to keep —

No will to make her something she is not —

to take her or the perfect lines that make her –

to draw her in an object’s trace –

to fill her in with what I think —

she should be —

for you —

for me

Her fingers flicker gently on her other wrist

the power in her stance, the grace

protecting that –

which nature never meant to waste –

on patriarchal fiends –

who know not what it means –

to be

not just to bleed or birth –

that is not her Function but a possibility, she —

is far beyond –

the lack of contemplation that does breed —

inside the minds of stupid men who Fear what lies behind –

those fingers

Guarded in their clasp

no They just can not grasp –

what it means –

to be

a beautiful woman

Like the one that I do see

A mirror, window, hard to tell —

these curves do intersect –

I speak of you, I speak of me –

the lines with which we do define —

our own humanity —

our womanhood

Do not let –

the powers that be —

place your Goddess self –

in hands of gods who don’t believe –

in you

Do not let these shriveled souls define –

the appropriateness of Any line —

and let not takers of your beauty be –

the reason that you stand

with fingers clasped

afraid to drop your hands