Tag Archives: feminist

Silence 

Silenced 

To be silenced
It’s inner violence 
Being forced to withhold
A story to be told
A crushing of the inner 
A bleeding under skin and 
A heart growing dim 
She’s becoming a shadow 
A piece or a part
Not a whole 
Never whole 
Deep within the soul 
She’s Scared to make known 
What she’s been shown 
Her cover is blown 
When she takes the lid off 
How she was Forced to eat from the trough 
A Choke and cough 
From these scraps of love 
if it can be called that ? 
It was rather more like bits 
Midriffs 
Next “hits”
And their leftovers 
Can She Do overs ?
Abuse 
And hangovers 
These all meant to stifle 
Take out the rifle 
To Fire a shot 
At her voice 
That’s now here 
Loud and clear.

Fluency

My writing process is this : 

I have a conversation with someone, think way too long and hard about it, find the teachable moment or lesson , and write about it . 
I have had three Or four such conversations today and I just keep thinking on the words, “I want to be fluent in friendship”. 

Each woman is so very different. Different triggers, hurts, pasts, current situations, divorced, single, younger, older. 

So, I guess, the bottom line for me is that in all of my relationships , I want to be fluent in being a friend that can be trusted and counted on. 

 This encompasses all of the different walks of women I encounter daily, the ones I have chosen to walk alongside and the ones that have chosen to walk alongside me. The ones that let me down, the ones that don’t. The ones that help me grow, the ones I have cultivated and poured into. The ones that I call friends.

 
Fluency 
Fluent in friendship 

Friend to the end-ship 

Penmanship 

The written words 

Between hearts and minds 

Words written on pages or not 

Thought out 

No doubt 

That these women are worth having 

In my life

By my side 

Sink or rise 

Part of a tribe 

Of sorts 

Hear us roar 

Collectively Shutting the door 

On the things that bind us 

Wind us 

Up 

Trust 

That we have each other’s back

No smack

Talking 

Or balkin’

Walking 

toward healing 

Unpeeling 

Layer after layer 

Til we get to the core

Of who we are 

Individually 

But so much more 

Together 

Forever 

 

No more body Shaming 2017


Read this today out of an updated rendition of “Our bodies, Ourselves”.

Made me want to give up the idea of playing a role. Playing a part.

I don’t mean dressing up for fun. I mean actually finding identity in how successful one is in this subtle, wide spread competition. 

I am denouncing any role I have played in the past. I am resigning. I will really strive this year to forget this body shaming business. This idea that the makeup companies and teeth whitening marketers and fashion designers want me to believe. This forced participation.

I am tired of hearing women complain. I’m tired of hearing myself complain. I’m tired of talking to a cardboard cutout. 

I can’t relate to it in this stage of my life. 

Cheers to no body shaming, no measuring up literally in 2017.

WISH

I wish we didn’t have to try

Have to lie

Have to hide

But it’s what we’re taught 

Is it not?

From baby to now

Put on the shroud 

On knees we bow

To expectations

Degradation 

Even our conversations 

It’s surface

Truth curtained 

But really hurting 

How are you?

Fine, next line ? 

It’s the same rhythm and rhyme

Can’t take it

Makes my stomach ache

When I witness fake 

I’m Cringing 

While they bingeing 

On making each other feel like they’re winning

High fives 

Over gapped thighs 

Exercises

Contoured lines

Made up eyes

Glossy images

To keep reality in cages

Truth be told

Be it bold 

Not gonna fold 

Gonna play the hand 

Take a stand 

Be myself and 

Wish that it catches on 

Waiting on one (or another)

One is waiting 

Not here for the taking 

But the asking 

The why me’s and the what ifs 

The who’s  who and the making sense

Of all of it 

Or none of it 

Really 

She doesn’t have an answer to any

So she still waits 

For just one 

Or another 

Or still another 

That has the answers 

To the why me’s and the what ifs

To the who’s who and the making sense 

Of all of it, really