"fem" poems
they laugh at my use of the word 'feminism'
it makes me different, makes me unique.
a woman asking for a voice is like a child asking for a gun.
they cringe at my use of the word 'feminism'
it means i am angry, means i must be gay.
a woman demanding respect is like a beggar asking for more than you're comfortable giving.
i want to feel safe,
i want to be acknowledged,
i want to be valued,
to be seen as a whole person,
not an object of ****** desire-
a mother,
a wife.
i want to go a day without my validity being questioned,
but i am just a girl,
and that's not how things work.
Jun 13, 2016
Jun 13, 2016 at 4:26 PM UTC
one more for t.m.
her given name is not woman
but human of the feminine,
the fem in the human mine,
mine...
12:10am 4/16/17
Apr 16, 2018
Apr 16, 2018 at 12:14 AM UTC
fem in isms,
i imagine Sapphic eyes:
bad *** advert coruscates elite
fairness sensing slavish blind
in gestate calm affirm
in genders More numerous of Windows--
Superior--for Doors--
O harsh judgement foiled,
as a foil, as unknown truth
foil-doubles in the brow,
abject symmetry to systemize
a fertile lack of sterile barrenness,
i am a mediatrix rend,
nirwaan, hijra wonderment aside
from transemotion's ground swells
demeaning to be understood.
i celebrate and face the same
to be what paperwork tests being
normal being, freely chosen
atom each belonging moves
an asterisk of paths
of mutate art of nature social darwin maze.
i imagine Sapphic eyes,
ginko soft they pile up all cobble
memories themselves concretely
cloistered fame
spray of salty waves,
macho screams symbol
for dismissal ease
for tearing at an inner unsaid war
with lists offense of proper taste
to what posterity intends
an undulation womblike seeming nourish safety sounds.
i imagine Sapphic eyes
past
debauched
meanderings
where hyster-clarity rejoins its titular
and reliable escapisms curl the lips
of maleness found
here and there smile sneer love
i imagine Sapphic eyes
linguistic pirouettes
congest that wisdom nonetheless
the moment passed on to a
feigning truth in pretty rhyme
ornamenting time with fine meter fine
vernacular chimes peter in
to juggle perspectival paradox,
redichotomize the twilight idols,
resolve the conflict like a dawn
Aurora,
i imagine Sapphic eyes
running plastic with Alaskan wolves,
toga floats to snow
to let us see the purest fairness form
a ****** circle,
Hypatia ascends from tenebrous grave,
Impregnable of Eye is pregnant now
with Wollstonecraft revered
in liberation's fount
families held exemplar gaze of
Taylor, ****** Cady,
Anthony resanctified
to vote entitlement's
empathic origins, waxen mold
of nascent categories,
narrow hands spread wide to panoply anew
the manifest evolve in true unknowns
Nov 23, 2012
Nov 23, 2012 at 11:56 PM UTC
Fresh baked bread
Layered in death and vegetation
My insides burn with withdrawal
It's been almost 24 hours now
How much longer will it take?
To either cave in unwillingly
Or to die painfully slow?
If I had not forgotten my cash
I'd have given in to my survival drives
I'm happy I forgot it
Because I can't stomach the idea of food
Let alone choke down something so revolting
Only because it pulls me further away from death
Instead I flood my veins with nicotine
Desperately trying to curb these cravings
My legs threaten to give out
With each step I take
Even now, scratching this among global fem notes
Dissociated entirely from class
My hands won't stop shaking
Is it nerves?
Or physical deterioration?
Or the panic lying under the surface?
Deafening screams ricochet through my mind
As I try to drown these feelings
But they won't disappear
I've dropped significant weight
And I don't want it back
I don't feel the need to lose more
But still it falls away
And eventually leaves nothing but skin and bones
Fueled by electrifying anxiety
Nov 17, 2017
Nov 17, 2017 at 3:14 AM UTC
Feminism is around today because men think saying "all men"
is worse than telling a women to "get back in the kitchen"
Because some men still treat women like objects
Because a woman can't dress how she wants
Without a man seeing it as an invitation
Because women are still told they must have been asking for it
Because women who have *** are *****
But guys who have *** are praised
Because men still think feminism is about superiority
Instead of equal rights
Because men think being a feminist is bad
But they start a trend of meninist
Because we are still writing articles and poems, and short films
about females having the same rights as men
Feb 23, 2015
Feb 23, 2015 at 3:05 PM UTC
I did not ask to enter this world a female,
but it's what God granted me.
I did not ask to be regulated by hormones,
but it is what is expected of me.
I did not ask for this child,
that was forced upon me late one night.
I did not ask for this judgement,
that is so easily handed out.
I did not ask to be called 'baby',
by that man on the subway.
I did not ask for the opinions of my weight,
which are so casually thrown about.
I did not ask for a smaller salary,
due to the genitalia I was provided.
But this is the life I was given, and so I find my tribe.
I find other women who grant me peace and protection.
I advocate for women whose voices are not heard.
I fight for my future daughters.
I protest the hate.
I protest the inequalities.
I protest for our Mother, Earth.
I protest, and I stand, and I cry.
My ****** is my home.
My womb is my decision.
My body my choice.
Nov 14, 2016
Nov 14, 2016 at 4:59 PM UTC
**fem·i·nist [fem-uh-nist]
adjective
1. advocating social, political, legal, and economic rights for women equal to those of men.**
I used to be afraid I'd be stuck in a training bra forever.
For awhile I didn't wear one.
My grandmother would yell at me.
I told her I was a feminist.
I didn't know what it meant.
A part of me wishes I could go back
to that time of AA's instead of DD's.
One less thing to define me.
Maybe then I could be free of the restraints.
Eyeliner seemed ridiculous.
Poking yourself in the eye with an 8 dollar glamor crayon.
Crayola sells them for 15 cents.
Always was cheap - Not the makeup - Not the crayon.
I don't leave the house without it.
I used to be afraid of tampons.
They grossed me out.
They confused me.
I didn't understand how you could stick something "up there"
and walk straight.
I'd be surprised how much it can handle.
Strength. Numbers. Endurance.
But, I still can't walk straight.
I used to be afraid of the boogeyman.
The darkness in the closet.
The monster under my bed.
I was a smart kid.
I knew they were there all along
under the comforter
beneath the sheets
next to my fragile body
stealing my sliced heart
and ******* the rest.
The monsters wear a disguise.
Rubber.
If you're lucky.
Without the water balloon and crossed fingers your stomach fills nine months times its size.
So they say.
I still like to believe it's an old wive's tale.
And I refuse to be an old wife.
I never considered thongs underwear.
I considered them floss.
Why wear one when you could just go bare *** and achieve the same result?
Now I floss regularly.
Hygiene is important.
Clean my mouth.
Well, might as well brush my teeth while I'm at it.
I used to be afraid I'd grow up and couldn't eat Popsicles anymore.
As if chasing after the icecream truck was something prescribed to a little girl in spaghetti straps
******* only her thumb.
Innocence lost.
I don't like Popsicles anymore.
Unless they're cherry flavor.
Jan 21, 2013
Jan 21, 2013 at 8:05 PM UTC
ATYPICAL GAY GUY
I am an atypical gay guy
I don’t match any mold.
I am not young any more
But not in any way old.
Too fem to be a he-man
Too butch to be a queen.
I am neither fish nor fowl
Always Mr. In-Between.
I do love my show tunes
And of course Miss Babs
And I do put a bit of product
In my hair, just a few dabs.
I don’t haunt the health clubs
Flexing on the big machines
Trying to bring to vapors
Our local workout queens.
I do like to cook a little bit
But, my house is usually a mess.
I don’t like angora sweaters
And would never wear a dress.
You couldn’t really peg me
By the way I usually walk.
I don’t lisp or squeal, so
It’s a manly way I talk.
I do cruise quite normally
When hot guys walk by me.
But, I try my best to do so
Undetected, and slyly.
My taste in men does not
Run to muscled guys.
When I see someone pass
I first look at his eyes.
It’s hard to get me into bed,
I am really rather choosy.
I don’t do promiscuity,
Not a backdoor loosey-goosey.
So don’t go giving birthday gifts
Of dildoes and leather goods.
You won’t find me in costumes
Like rubber and leather hoods.
I am an atypical gay guy
I don’t match any mold.
I am not young any more
But not in any way old.
Too fem to be a he-man
Too butch to be a queen.
I am neither fish nor fowl
Always Mr. In-Between.
Brent Kincaid
1/27/2015
Feb 3, 2015
Feb 3, 2015 at 11:07 PM UTC
It’s December, it’s foggy and rainy, but that fits. Of course, a rainy Saturday means gathering in the common room with my roommates and watching either “The Hunger Games” or “Twilight.” Leong’s never seen Twilight, believe it or not, what are they DOing in China? We were explaining that It’s ok to talk through Twilight because it’s completely senseless. Yeah, good times.
We got back from Thanksgiving break, and we had to hit it - grinding to squeeze half a semester into 18 days. It’s a cornucopia of pressure. Yes, we’ve hit the books, but we’re still us.
Here’s a question: What’s the first season in December? “Spotify wrapped” season! EVERYONE has Spotify and once a year you get a summary of your listening habits. The reports came out this week and it’s all people are talking about. Comparing their lists, artists, tastes. Those lists say a lot about someone and it’s ok to not have taste, we should normalize it.
My top artist was Taylor Swift (duh) my top song was Taylor Swift’s “Renegade,” Spotify says I listened to it 285 times but that’s biased because more than once, when writing a paper, I put that song on a loop for 6 hours. My second most listened to song was “Champagne Problems” By Taylor. That song is so Rory, Gilmore Girls coded - like Rory saying, “you're on your own.” My other top artists are TV Girl, the backseat lovers and hypo campus. Yeah, I roll big.
Taylor’s also been in the conversation because Sophie has an ex-fem-friend (a freshman) who started seeing a 45-year-old guy. Let me ask you, what does a 45-year-old man have in common with an 18-year-old girl? We have Yale friends in their early 20s who consider themselves still teenagers and children and THEY are horrified. It’s naked fracking ********** (Sorry, that one foamed over.)
The whole situation is ripped from Taylor’s 2010 masterpiece “Dear John,” which is about her dating John Mayer when she was 19 and he was 30-something. Her friends warned her, but she wouldn’t hear. Taylor Swift can be corny, and I love the corn, but she can be topical too and even though I was 7 when she released “Dear John” (2010), it’s a timeless lesson.
Dec 3, 2022
Dec 3, 2022 at 2:01 PM UTC
Målet er at ramme flaskebunden.
Derefter sættes samme mål.
REPEAT REPEAT REPEAT
(Det er blevet normens faste procedure)
Målet er at være stilikonet. Tiltrække gade fotograferne. Genvejen til de fem minutters berømmelse.
KNIPS KNIPS KNIPS
(Det hele er blevet en farverolade)
Målet er at pisse byen gul. Urban gødning er vel det rette ord når køen til de røde bokse er for lang.
SSH SSH SSH
(Kan ikke længere se forskel på øl tis vand)
Målet er at score. Så mange singler samlet med håbløse forventninger.
SUT MIG SUT MIG SUT MIG
( Det er det nærmeste de kan komme kærlighed)
Målet er at have en fest. Sild i tønder til hjernedøde beats.
BASS DROP BASS DROP BASS DROP
(Når de gode endelig kommer til lukkes festen af de euforiseredes konsekvenser)
Jun 4, 2015
Jun 4, 2015 at 5:09 PM UTC
du bad mig om at vente her
på hjørnet af frederiksberg allé
mens du gik den modsatte vej
og du så dig aldrig tilbage som om du ikke var i tvivl
men alligevel
tog du mine hænder og sagde at jeg bare
skulle stole på dig og dit (sidste) kys brænder
stadig på mine frost kolde læber
jeg har ventet i en menneskealder og
jeg har set en verden af københavn som ellers
bare ville have passeret mine øjne som små
ubetydelige skygger
vejret har skiftet mere end før
og jeg ligner mest af alt en der har gået sit
livs walk of shame
for jeg er stadig klædt i den sorte kjole
og de små sko med hæl som du forærede
mig dengang
læbestiften er intakt endnu
og jeg smager af daggamle cigaretter
og whisky
og luften blandes af duften af
chanel og vores søde minder
den københavnske vinter slider ikke
så meget på mit sind når jeg tænker på det
og mine følelser smelter
jeg kan nok godt vente fem minutter endnu
men du kom aldrig forbi frederiksberg allé igen og
du afleverede aldrig mit hjerte tilbage selvom
du havde lovet det da du tog mine hænder og kyssede
mig (for sidste gang)
Oct 29, 2014
Oct 29, 2014 at 2:31 PM UTC
Amor abrazame
make the world go away,
make the smoldering world
of deceivers disappear.
Make cunning entities leave
my woods and forest lands.
Make the sterile fem fatales
grow heart and courage.
Make the human predators
be my sacred Tika talcs.
Make our vessels sparkle
beneath the starry sky,
to the God of grace in you.
Lift the world off my
shoulders.
Oh make the world go away!
~~~~~~~
By; Karijinbba.
Sep 16, 2021
Sep 16, 2021 at 6:44 AM UTC
It’s Monday afternoon, the first day after Fall Break. Several of my suitemates are here, relaxing a bit before we hit the dining hall and then scatter, like debris from a bomb. There are a zillion things to do on campus, on any given night. Lisa and I are going to a seminar, Anna and Sunny are going to a Uni play and Leong’s going to see a documentary.
Leong was hunched over a cup of dark tea, reading ‘J-14’ magazine. “Do any of you guys think Travis Kelce is hot?” She asked, not looking up. Leong subscribes to several ‘teen’ magazines, like ‘J-14’, ‘Girls' World’ and ‘Girl’s Life.’ She says that Yale is her chance to be the ‘American teenager’ she could never be at home (Macaw, China). We’d make fun of her if we didn’t all read them after she finished, and they were lying around.
“No,” said Lisa and I about the same time as Anna and Sunny said, “Yeah,” to varying degrees.
“Did you think he was hot before he started dating Taylor?” she asked, pushing the enquiry even further. “No,” said Lisa and I repeated in unison - we had this down now.
“He wasn’t on my radar,” Anna admitted. Sunny said, “Yeah, same here.”
“Why do YOU think he’s hot?” Leong asked Sunny (who’s fem-facing).
“I can appreciate a hot guy,” she said, sounding a little defensive, “as someone who could draw hetero interest.”
Then Lisa reported, from head down in her textbook, “Your mouth retains the DNA of everyone you ever kissed.” She looked up and asked me, how many guys have you kissed?
“You mean politely kissed or Deep-kissed,” I asked back, tilting my head, sticking out my tongue and slobbering it around, like a dog eating peanut butter.
“They mean French-kissed,” she replied, rescanning the last paragraphs as I calculated.
“So, the five guys I dated, but we used to play ‘spin the bottle’ at parties too.. so.. 25?” I said.
“You **** she laughed. “I have my truth,” I updogged, “How about you?”
“I’d forgotten ‘spin the bottle,’ Lisa admitted, recalculating.. “Yeah, 25 sounds about right.”
“Leong?” she asked Leong. “Two,” Leong answered instantly.
“Anna?” she asked Anna, so Lisa was going completely around the room with this survey.
“25 sounds right” Anna answered, “including spin,” (the bottle).
“Sunny?” Leong asked Sunny. “A HUNDRED,” I said, hijacking Sunny’s answer, and everyone chuckled. Every Friday night Sunny brings a different girl home to ‘spend the night.’ It’s rather impressive.
“A few,” Sunny answered, shrugging nonchalantly, “A girl doesn’t kiss and tell.”
“I’ve got a calculator,” Anna said, “if you change your mind,” holding her phone up like an offer.
Oct 23, 2023
Oct 23, 2023 at 5:09 PM UTC
Affirmative. I’m opinionated. Just imagine I’m every confident, intellectual woman that you’ve ever hated. You must be faded: the smack you talk, you deserve to be berated. Son, I’ll spank you back to your upbringing like yo mother should have!
Girl you’re brilliant, but when they treat you like an acquisition, come behind your desk and ask what’s your favorite position.
ANSWER, ANSWER: C. E. O.! “you **
You know they say “I’m sick of your complaining” and “snap this ***** is crazy. Oh **** She must be MEN-STRUATING!”
You’re disrespectful to the ***** Positively shady. Boys will be boys that language is fitting for them to call you but not for a LAY-DEE. When all you see on a woman is ******* and ***** - Hey! We are not passes to your manhood. looks down Your ego is inflated with superficial currency “manpoints!”
You need to treat women like **** to have any value? Well you got a sentence slated. “Female, don’t say those things, forbid they feel EMASCULATED!” Well you made this sandwich. And now you have to eat it. “beat it!”
Don’t treat me like an object. I reject how you project your gender roles on me they’re only fiction. Man, I hate to tell you but my life is in MY OWN jurisdiction. You better be grateful I chose the restraining order, yet you’re still pushing the border.
“Get outta my business!”
Don’t touch me, bro, I’m close to the edge. Me and my homies gonna push you off this ledge.
As for the rest of you,
Yea I know you’re afraid to give me power, know imma tower over you and win this battle like Eisenhoooower.
So be wary of the toxins you provide to this chemist
Cuz she’ll stir them into a weapon, release the angry FEM IN IIIIST!
Jan 21, 2015
Jan 21, 2015 at 3:52 PM UTC
Dear number five, with my hand I count,
Twice in fact, without a doubt.
To my birthday, February herewith,
It is indeed upon the fifth.
Dear number five, you do so mean,
Foot long sandwiches for one to dream.
3.14159, in pi you do arrive,
Among Fibonacci you do so strive.
Dear number five, you have begun,
Histories with a long run:
Karl Marx was born; a Mexican independence;
US/SR tested nukes; all which men were in attendance.
Dear number five, with Lincoln it so bares,
His proud, pensive face, a dollar shares.
Cinco, viis, wu, cinq, go, fem,
In different languages does your usage stem.
Dear number five, I must say adieu,
You’re much more than numbers, such as two,
And as I leave you my simple twenty line poem,
Remember the writer who sat here and wrote ‘em.
Nov 12, 2015
Nov 12, 2015 at 9:55 PM UTC
kigger ind på lejlighederne og
gløden af følelser vælder i mig glimt af tårer glimt af
vægtløshed og mørkeblå og bålrøg
som om jeg nogensinde har oplevet noget der kører som en spillefilm i
mit hoved når jeg tænker på det perfekte
som om jeg ved hvad jeg egentlig tænker som om ord ikke dekonstrueres og knækker sammen ved blot et enkelt blik
verden er opløselig
ubetinget tidsløshed
livet er elastisk
hvis nogen fortalte mig, at jeg ikke har været på jorden i mere end fem år ville jeg ikke tvivle det
mine minder smelter ligesom under opmærksomhedens lys som gamle billeder af glemte mennesker som om nogen har plantet dem i mig som om jeg
aldrig har været mit eget menneske før
og alt der sker lige her topper ikke alt hvad der sker på gaden og i byen og i landet og i havene og på kontienterne og på kloden og i solsystemet og i galaksen og i universet og i eksistensen
det hele er slimet og formløst i min forståelse
jeg kan ikke forklare det for jeg ved ikke noget
jeg kan ikke forklare det men jeg ved ikke noget
som om jeg er et stykke tyggegummi på undersiden af en
sejlbåd midt i
saltvandet
hvis jeg kniber øjnene sammen bliver teksten fed
saltvandet
Apr 23, 2016
Apr 23, 2016 at 6:04 PM UTC
... or, who took the MAN out?
Who took the MAN out of romance?
Who plucked the peacock of quill?
Was it a private performance?
Was it by sheer force of will?
Who took the MAN out of manners?
Did it take magical powers?
Who threw in the nails and spanners?
Perhaps they emulate ours.
Who took the FEM out of feminine?
Was it a trial? A test?
Is it SO cool to be masculine?
Assinine's what we have left!
Do we all need to lose gender?
Do all the answers lie there?
Should we all be as the blenders?
Is that decree really fair?
I'm for the lady. The gentleman.
SORRY. It's been building a while.
I just came to air out the sentiment
I love the ol' fashion styles!
Who took the MAN from romantic?
I'm guessing. It's only a hunch.
It may be the one who's got plastic
And insists upon
BUYING HER LUNCH!
SoulSurvivor
(C) 12/29/2015
All rights protected
Dec 29, 2015
Dec 29, 2015 at 9:17 PM UTC
Savner dig på savner dig på savn. Umiddelbar kliché for det blotte øje.
Det der overgår klichén er ægte hvisker jeg til os. Minder os om. Venskab kan ikke ses med det blotte øje. Kun med mikroskopøjne. Vi har mikroskopøjne. Savner dig ******* savner dig. Venskabet er blevet langdistance. Fem kilometer. Udgør det ikke som lyskryds og myldretid. Det andre cyklister er vores største trussel. Men jeg er din cykelhjem. HUSKER DU. Du er min cykelhjelm. Hjemme i dit selskab. Siger farvel med udsigt til savner dig ******* savner dig .
Sep 11, 2015
Sep 11, 2015 at 3:32 PM UTC
(The symbol * = see word list)
Hi* Reader!
A monna*, a fem both build their family here,
In lands where waqua* flows
And noush* is grown.
They shelter, cosy, nestled in their housdom*,
Or dommus**
If yu* prefer,
With kids arunning wild,
Alongside dogologs* and pusses*.
It cost a lot of brass* to buy
That house
But yes
It really was so worth it.
On weekends dad gets out the vroom*
And takes them for a run.
The youngsters chaktac* in the bak*
Luving* it: driving thru*
The sunny vales.
Back home,
They all sleep well
Each nite*.
From families like this
Are nations built.
Generation,
After generation.
A growing culture
On the bedrock
Of Humanity.
Paul Butters
Word List*: Hi = hello, monna (formerly mon) = man, fem = woman, waqua = water, noush = food, housdom or dommus (formerly domhouse) = house, yu = you, dogologs = dogs, pusses = cats, brass = money, vroom = car, chaktac = chatter, bak = back, luving = loving, thru = through, nite = night. (These words I term “Buttish”, after my surname, though I acknowledge some are “borrowed” from others).
** domhouse amended to dommus; mon to monna (2nd draft).
May 13, 2015
May 13, 2015 at 5:29 AM UTC
"boys will be boys"
no.
"boys will be held accountable for their actions"
yes.
"girls wear pink"
no.
"girls can wear whatever color they feel like wearing"
yes.
"people should be taught to be true to themselves"
absolutely.
Oct 26, 2019
Oct 26, 2019 at 7:02 PM UTC
I’m a bit of a sensualist.
First, let me emphasise emotional resonance,
there has to be an emotional base,
not just an appreciation of hotness.
Then, there’s a sense of longing and mystery—
that male unknowableness.
Don’t forget the hard strength of those rough male edges,
you know, the feeling that he’s kind of sculpted from
a marble that you just want to run your hands over.
And this jet-black hair, the curves and the spiky bits,
casual, careless, not fussy or particular,
and his warm, firm, implacable hands.
Oh, God. Gimmie some.
“Sensuality's connected to desire, ya?” I asked the room (Sunny and Lisa are there, studying).
“It sure is,” Sunny said, flippantly, “and you just need that hot boyfriend of yours to spank it out of you.”
“No,” I winced, “that’s not true.”
“Ooo! I love this song” Lisa said, as ‘try’ by BETWEEN FRIENDS began to play on our Echos.
.
.
*Songs for this:
this is what falling in love feels like by JVKE
golden hour by JVKE*
.
.
Our cast
Sunny, (suitemate) 21, a (pre-med) molecular, cellular, and developmental biology major, is a cowgirl from Nebraska (seriously, she has a quarter horse and barrel races). She’s an outspoken fem-facing ladies-lady.
Lisa, (roommate) 21, my bff and a high society princess, who grew up in a 50th floor Central Park South high-rise. A (pre-med) molecular biophysics and biochemistry major.
Your author, a simple, multinational, upper-crust, trust-fund baby from Athens, Georgia who's also a molecular biophysics and biochemistry major (pre-med).
Mar 28, 2025
Mar 28, 2025 at 8:39 AM UTC
Where what she wears
wears on their fancies
to fancy or not to fancy
it't the Josephine's Jones'
hoow to snap chat herr
Slide in GraSM
Spin GRams fa hur
Chase C.R.E.A.M fa her
flirt with RÔUS!
Fem-Pøltiks
Watch the hour glass for her
moves on moves
what does she do it for
She does it for her...
HER,HEr and Hers'
Just stuntin' on the next bih
Did it for the ratchet
Flex on dat bih
She in her feelings like a Bih
Watch wonder why
Wonder why she do it four
AYe what you about that...
Jan 27, 2017
Jan 27, 2017 at 1:39 AM UTC
I’m a sucka for long eyelashes,
wishful sighs punctuating long
skyward gazes, endlessly searching
for answers to questions as of yet,
unasked,
thus is my manly melancholy primary
tasked,
or rather,
my hurry up need fix for tender loving
by a man who writes me poems that are this fem’s,
as in feminine, as in all mine, even down
to the unwrit, declarative dedication that, is powerful
whispered, avec a-graze~touch
upon my cheek,
“I wrote this for you,”
oh gawd, I even love him despite
his horrible pink sneakers…
ugly to almost ning cute…
BC
May 4, 2024
May 4, 2024 at 10:31 AM UTC
Fasces and olive branch on one side, tails;
wing-ed Phrygian cap on the head
of an image of the spirit of
Liberty, a fem.
Heads.
Dimes in the olden times,
when I was born,
1948,
dimes in America in those days
symbolized a long known
goodness for all men,
included in
we, the people, which includes
me.
Me and thee, we are we, only by virtue of my
words being written and your reading
of the same within our
terms of endearment
cookie.
Each we we are in, let us call a set,
but that confuses us, fuses us
to gether.
So, let's seee
See it like this. I am good. I repel wrong and
act right,
asif I were
polarized live in op
position to evil
evil live, have you seen it? Live,
did it prosper in your presence or was peace the final state?
Just, now. Please plea with your knower, don't lie.
Say never all you wish, however never lie
against the truth.
To thine own self, et al... y'know
in each generation of earth borne,
one hero is reared to play your role, dear reader.
Fret not,
know wisdom has been maligned as
calling us through each position
of the fool... there is a map
of these positions in a statuary garden
behind the temple of the golden buddha
in Bankok, visited with Mr. Boo in 1968.
I remember none of the poses but ai knows they form
a pyramid,
i
imagine it
peaks in some backward
footed kundalini pose,
which is bull **** I imagined. Wisdom is gentle
and easy to be entreated, okeh, heko.
Jul 10, 2019
Jul 10, 2019 at 10:43 PM UTC
When she died
Te fem yakuza
Said to her minions
That she will be
Reborn in the stars
Lo and behold
One stargazer
Saw the infamous woman take
A puff from her cigarette
Is this the fem fatal of Japan.
Aug 28, 2019
Aug 28, 2019 at 9:28 PM UTC