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fuckyoupoPoems
I cried at the breakfast table this morning my father carefully explained, "wives must be submissive to their husbands" "housecleaning is the domain of the woman" "God created woman because man asked for a partner" This past semester I wrote two papers One, a fire and brimstone sermon           I quoted Anais Nin           sending the creators of sexist commercials to eternal suffering           **** them!" I said. "May they burn in hell."           For the women they portrayed were doormats           Misconceptions           Monsters The other, the role of women in the 1920s,            No longer confined to the kitchen            they dropped ballots with their new freedom            they wore short dresses and short tresses            fingers wrapped around cigs            they quoted Wilde instead of Alcott            they danced until their feet hurt         I read of Anais Nin's "new woman," her partnership, not submission to man, I craved a room of my own, neigh demanded it For sheep stayed in the kitchen, The Woolf had a study. I read poetry Sexton, Plath, I wept for their starved, depressed selves caged, suffocating inside the clasped hands of a man. Loved like rib-cage jails. Adrienne Rich made me angry, her daughter-in-law forever trying to fit into a box she was always too big for, spilling at the edges, her shaved legs like "white mammoth tusks" I was finally happy with my womanhood. ****** ****** ***** ******** they are mine. ******* free to move unrestrained, jiggling under my shirt. Wetness between my thighs. Menstrual blood, they are mine. mine. I am not ashamed of what I am because there is no shame. I am woman, I am girl, I am lady. I am a creature with a voice a mind. a creature who endured much abuse, continue to endure. I am woman and I don't have to be wife or mother unless I want to be. I was not created for man; I was created for the same reason he was, to serve the same great purpose on this tiny blue dot. I am not rib. I am ****** ****** ***** ******** ******* free, unrestrained, Wetness between my thighs. Menstrual blood, I am a per. I am a wo. I am a hu. Man and son need to back down, collaborate not dominate, speak not command, for when less are forced into silence, the maddening scream hidden inside skin and bones and muscle-meat becomes song. this world of car horns and tire screeches crying and wailing from raw throats angry protests of indignation could use a little music.
0
Apr 8, 2013
Apr 8, 2013 at 6:59 PM UTC
Father broke my heart.
I cried at the breakfast table this morning my father carefully explained, "wives must be submissive to their husbands" "housecleaning is the domain of the woman" "God created woman because man asked for a partner" This past semester I wrote two papers One, a fire and brimstone sermon           I quoted Anais Nin           sending the creators of sexist commercials to eternal suffering           **** them!" I said. "May they burn in hell."           For the women they portrayed were doormats           Misconceptions           Monsters The other, the role of women in the 1920s,            No longer confined to the kitchen            they dropped ballots with their new freedom            they wore short dresses and short tresses            fingers wrapped around cigs            they quoted Wilde instead of Alcott            they danced until their feet hurt         I read of Anais Nin's "new woman," her partnership, not submission to man, I craved a room of my own, neigh demanded it For sheep stayed in the kitchen, The Woolf had a study. I read poetry Sexton, Plath, I wept for their starved, depressed selves caged, suffocating inside the clasped hands of a man. Loved like rib-cage jails. Adrienne Rich made me angry, her daughter-in-law forever trying to fit into a box she was always too big for, spilling at the edges, her shaved legs like "white mammoth tusks" I was finally happy with my womanhood. ****** ****** ***** ******** they are mine. ******* free to move unrestrained, jiggling under my shirt. Wetness between my thighs. Menstrual blood, they are mine. mine. I am not ashamed of what I am because there is no shame. I am woman, I am girl, I am lady. I am a creature with a voice a mind. a creature who endured much abuse, continue to endure. I am woman and I don't have to be wife or mother unless I want to be. I was not created for man; I was created for the same reason he was, to serve the same great purpose on this tiny blue dot. I am not rib. I am ****** ****** ***** ******** ******* free, unrestrained, Wetness between my thighs. Menstrual blood, I am a per. I am a wo. I am a hu. Man and son need to back down, collaborate not dominate, speak not command, for when less are forced into silence, the maddening scream hidden inside skin and bones and muscle-meat becomes song. this world of car horns and tire screeches crying and wailing from raw throats angry protests of indignation could use a little music.
Spur of the moment. Written after breakfast. Help me edit it, please? :)
fuckyoupo
Written by
fuckyoupo
Filipino
Apr 8, 2013
Apr 8, 2013 at 6:59 PM UTC
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