#chauvinism
Thank you for trying to help me cope.
Thank you for trying to offer me hope.
But this wound goes deeper than the soul.
It's the way the world is broken as a whole.
You'll never know the crush to a little girl's heart;
The shock and fear and disgust that starts
When she learns how men will see her,
How they'll fantasize on how to use her.
When she learns her power is minimal
And she's at the mercy of men who are criminals,
That being in this body makes her a target,
And her worth is decided in the beauty market.
Every part of her free game to criticize,
And valued only as she's seen by men's eyes.
So forgive me if I have trouble believing
That the world is better than I am perceiving.
But my life is the proof that what I'm saying is true.
Be thankful you can't understand all I've been through.
Dec 23, 2024
Dec 23, 2024 at 2:57 AM UTC
On a busy day,
A floor unkept.
“What’s this woman doing?”
Said Mr. Baker Brett.
With no delay came she,
Hair running below her knees,
Cleant the place
And served him his morning tea.
The innocent kid
Stood in the aisle
With a face devoid of smiles
And fiery eyes.
The struggles of this woman,
He dare not say!
He made a fist.
When the clock struck eight,
He picked up his satchel
And looked at his sister play.
She received no formal education
And was to stay that way.
The struggles that she may face,
He dare not say!
He held his anger in,
And walked away.
Time will pass and
His beard will go grey.
To his curious daughter,
What will he say?
That she ought not
To get educated?
To be slave to an unknown man?
He contemplated.
Wild wild, rage. He must
Burst out today.
He shook off the bad dream
And so will they.
Apr 25, 2023
Apr 25, 2023 at 11:15 AM UTC
Midnight!
Midnight!
Midnight!
The burning sensation of those word were hard to digest
Sorrow, Tear, How ugly can I be
Black is Beauty I say…to whom they say
Midnight! Midnight!.. you are as dark as Midnight
I'm haunted by those words, As they stuck to me like fresh sap from a tree..
I’m drowning, I’m drowning, I can’t get free, those words will forever trail me..
They trailed me; they jarred me, Blackie Tutu! Blackie Tutu!
How can kids be so cruel using skin color as a tool
I held my own and stayed cool for I knew has long I was in this school my fate was doom.
Pickey-Pickey head! was the melody of the song
I listened allowing the word to sink into my soul
The beat made me sick and I knew this one would also stick
I Looked up to the sky wondering why
No! No! No! Woman don’t cry
Be an African and hold your pride…
Hands by my side, I held my head up high
I found the fight within me, Stone faced Killer bee
I faced the music and it set me free
On the attack I had them flee…using word to conquer thee
I carried on knowing freedom wasn’t free and then
Like bolt of lightning it occurred me
To defeat them I had to BELIEVE in ME
Feb 12, 2018
Feb 12, 2018 at 8:16 AM UTC
Night after night they'd fight
Fires and flames re-ignite
As Sparks of anger flared
She lived but dead scared
Next was waking dead to life
Yet again not too tired to fuel the strife
Atimes they were warm, atimes cold as mist
Sometimes apart, sometimes at heart
There were days they hated and days they kissed
Days of soothing the days of hurt
The flame as bright as the Sun
Died down to dim of a lantern
Even their ******* Son
Came to terms with that zigzag pattern
High was high and low was low
When's Dad was high there wasn't law
His Mama's weapons were claws
While earning real hard blows
Was what fate 'd served
What she deserved?
In the air lingered an aroma of temptation
To slay his papa and offer redemption
That became a prayer each Sunday
What he painfully did fulfill someday
Apr 26, 2015
Apr 26, 2015 at 1:10 AM UTC
I used to like you when you were dumb.
Then you smartened up and it pains me some.
You question almost everything I say.
You use these big words almost every day.
You really are making my brain cells hum.
You used to be **** when you talked.
You had this trampy twist in the way you walked.
You did everything I told you to do.
Now you want to try things that are new.
And at that, baby, I just have to balk.
I really do prefer the way you used to be.
You made sure to do things that pleased me.
Dinner was always right on time,
And serving leftovers was a crime.
Now meals are not the way they should be.
I used to be breadwinner around here.
That was one thing that was totally clear.
I gave you a weekly allowance to spend.
None of this going out for drinks with friends,
Now you have a job and sometimes you’re not here.
I think the cause of this is all this reading.
You think you’re getting smart is misleading.
You are getting a different attitude
And I think a lot of them are rude.
There are some basic truths you aren’t heeding.
So you should put the Bible on your list.
As a matter of fact, I really do insist.
It tells you I am the important one
And you are just a planet to my sun.
So it isn’t God’s will that you resist.
Brent Kincaid
4/24/2015
Apr 24, 2015
Apr 24, 2015 at 10:23 PM UTC
She was crying.
So he approached
to lessen the anguish,
her life has notched
He exchanged her tears
with his cozy smile;
to calm down her nerves
at least for a while.
The language of tears
has always appealed him;
as to the insects,
the sundew's gleam.
Innate was this nature of his
to weep for the poor,
for the women, for the children
and for the downtrodden, to be sure.
But with hollow chauvinism
then, the men ruled the society.
And accounted weeping as a sin
resulting from inferiority.
They disliked the boy
and his uncommon ways
to heal the sufferer,
to their utter dismay.
They called the boy
and asked him to change
his beliefs and ideology
or to be ready to estrange.
The boy couldn't understand
how his actions have been
outrageous in their view
and thus sentenced as a sin.
He stood against them
and let the proposal decline.
He advocated his logic
to those ****** swine.
But their ears were concealed
to even the rumbling thunder.
Intoxicated by masculinity
they committed blunder.
The men enraged
and reached for their knives.
They shouted, they cursed
and skinned him alive.
Dec 12, 2014
Dec 12, 2014 at 3:50 PM UTC
Shimmer highlights
Glitter heels
Make me dress
To his appeal
Make me a magnet
Of attraction
Objectify me
A distraction
Let me be an unholy thing
touched
Besmirched
On your whim
Be my prince
On my bed
I’m sleeping now
Between your legs
Saint Malady
Patron of the honest house
Enter through the backdoor
And let it be nothing more
Sep 11, 2014
Sep 11, 2014 at 6:02 AM UTC