"stevie" poems
Goodnight moonlight,
Sweet dreams, moonlight,
I am away now,
Driving under your blanket, your bright stars lighting everywhere dark,
It is a late hot summer night, however I have turned the heat on, on this long summer road,
It reminds me of you,
Warm, open, and free,
I like it this way,
Windows down, hot air blowing, there is no room for cold here,
I like to play the radio soft,
It reminds me of you,
Stevie, you feel like the 80s,
And your voice reminds me of hers too,
My headlights illuminating the street signs just enough for them to dance, like everything has just a little bit of magic in it,
The first time I met you, you shook my hand, moonlight, and you were embarrassed about it, I thought it was kind of cute,
I might just keep you in my chest pocket on this ride home,
I will see you tomorrow night,
Same time, same place,
Goodnight moonlight
Jul 22, 2018
Jul 22, 2018 at 2:17 AM UTC
Black girl can’t twerk.
Black girl can’t handle hair grease.
Black girl is half white girl
is
Grey girl
is
White girl on 8 mile
is
Black girl in cop cars
is
Not black enough
is
Basking under the “Yes, there are black people in Portland” sign.
Black girl’s dad left
so white girl sits at Mormon thanksgiving.
Black girl says “wus good” to
wake up
and work with
within “welcome
to Starbucks
what can we get started for you today?”
White boy says “you a real *****
Black girl turns around and says
“I already know.”
You’ve told me my whole life,
You’ve never let me forget it.
Black girl
ties my hair scarf at night.
White girl does not fear the rain in the morning.
Other white girl tells me she’s
“only ******* black girls after me.”
I. white girl answer back
“umm that makes me uncomfortable.”
Grey girl has the Beatles tattooed on her left arm,
Stevie wonder
in progress
on her right.
Black girl was not adopted
from white Momma,
grew from her womb,
still carried out misunderstanding.
Black girl wonders why white girl stays silent so often.
Black girl is screaming at herself in the mirror
too scared to scream for Jason Washington
even
too scared to scream for Trayvon
too scared to scream for anything.
We forgot “why are you always stopping me”
but remember “I can’t breathe”.
Only black boys last words are worth remembering.
Black girl
hides behind
white girl’s voice in retail and traffic stops
and phone calls.
Grey girl,
Waiting for the phone call.
The
Dad’s in jail brother is dead phone call
The
How dare you let them take credit for you phone call.
When I moved away I was a success story.
I was black magic
Detroit dame not dangerous
city girl
in the good way.
With the good hair.
With
the way in which black girl
works three times as hard
but I,
white girl,
still presents her work.
Jan 6, 2019
Jan 6, 2019 at 7:11 PM UTC
I took my love and I took it down
Climbed a mountain and I turned around
And I saw my reflection in the snow covered hills
Till the landslide brought me down
Oh, mirror in the sky, what is love?
Can the child within my heart rise above?
And can I sail through the changing ocean tides
Can I handle the seasons of my life?
Oh oh I don't know, oh I don't know
Well, I've been afraid of changing
'Cause I've built my life around you
But time makes you bolder
Children get older I'm getting older too
Yes I'm getting older too, so
I've been afraid of changing
'Cause I, I've built my life around you
But time makes you bolder
Children get older
I'm getting older too oh yes
I'm getting older too
So, take this love, take it down
Oh if you climb a mountain and you turn around
If you see my reflection in the snow covered hills
Well the landslide will bring you down, down
And if you see my reflection in the snow covered hills
Well maybe the landslide will bring you down
Well well, the landslide will bring you down
- STEVIE NICKS
Dec 16, 2014
Dec 16, 2014 at 4:25 PM UTC
...Sky Isa Love!!!!
THAT IS ALL!!!!!!!!!
BILL WITHERS - LEAN ON ME LYRICS
http://www.youtube.com/watch?NR=1&v;=JR0NZqu6igg
Lean On Me (Live) From a 1973 Concert
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2Wpof8s5ZTg
Love potion number 9, The Searchers
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7rXhXLsNJL8
White Wine In The Sun by Tim Minchin
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fCNvZqpa-7Q
MOTOWN MAGIC!!!!!!
Sa Sa Go Go Go
BEST OF MOTOWN....BREATHE...Sky Isa Love
I Can't Get Next To You, Psychedelic Shack (the Temptations),
Bernadette (The Four Tops),
Everyday People (Sly & The Family),
I just Called To Say I Love You (Stevie Wonder)
Ain't Too Proud To Beg (The Temptations),
Back In My Arms Again (The Supremes)
Build Me Up Buttercup (The Foundations)
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=--jWPzNNdN4
Best Of Motown Part 2 Video Mix of;
My Cherie Amour (Stevie Wonder),
I'm Gonna Make You Love Me (Diana Ross & The Supremes with the Temptations),
What's Going On (Marvin Gaye)
Love Child (Diana Ross & The Supremes),
Runaway Child Running Wild (The Temptations),
For Once In My Life (Stevie Wonder},
I'm Losing You (The Temptations),
What Does It Takes (Jr Walker & The All Stars),
Stop In The Name Of Love (Diana Ross & The Supremes),
Reach Out I'll Be There (Four Tops),
I Can't Help Myself (Four Tops),
Get Ready (The Temptations),
Dancing In The Street (Martha & The Vandellas)
I Hear A Symphony (Diana Ross & The Supremes).
https://www.youtube.com/watch?NR=1&v;=VTe06PrXwo4
Top Tracks for Earth, Wind & Fire....
Starts with;
"Fantasy" (1977)
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kTQJ2QiK4QU&playnext;=1&list;=AL94UKMTqg-9AIdf-oDDL0ZRzIehPw5WY6
Top Tracks for Diana Ross & the Supremes
Starts with;
Love Child!!!!
Beautiful imagery!!!
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_IluVWcNtR8&list;=AL94UKMTqg-9BkdB7ckbcLpD9AIriJX-5P
**The Power of Music & Images
Used On One Of The Most Popular
& Most Loved Ballads Of All Time, Enjoy!!!**
***Top Tracks for Chicago
Starts with;***
Hard To Say I'm Sorry
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zqq3tW3iACw&playnext;=1&list;=AL94UKMTqg-9ABX4lv1Ast8ZktnOYg-vpB
Okay so double triple down on this!!!!!!!!
LOVE CHILD Diana Ross & The Supremes
***~Sky Isa Love~~
What can I say my first album;***
LOVE CHILD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Gets me every time!!!!!!!
More Beautiful Imagery!!!
Afu Ra Ka ALL!!!!! (see note)
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x2icqNPcNS4
EARTH WIND & FIRE-WOULD YOU MIND
...Sky Isa Love
very beautiful once again!!!!
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2rInQEQ-yUc
A Motown mega-mix mashup: Motor City's biggest hits combined with classic Christmas songs, sung by your favorite Motown stars.
Includes....
"I Saw My Girl Kissing Santa Claus"
"I Jingle That Emotion"
"I Heard It From The Red Nosed Reindeer"
"Claus Get Next To You"
"Santa Was a Rollin' Stone"
"Ain't No Silent First Noel"
...as performed by....
Stevie Wonder
Michael Jackson
Smokey Robinson
The Temptations
The Supremes
The Mormon Tabernacle Choir
...and, of course, the Funk Brothers.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fNvoSf2389k
THAT IS ALL!!!
LOVE ALL!!!!
Sa Sa Ra!!!!
Dec 26, 2012
Dec 26, 2012 at 7:28 PM UTC
you sat on the piano bench
and i sat on the floor
we talked about our fathers
we shared our lonely childhoods
broken bones, broken hearts
i decided i could listen to your voice for hours
you told me you wanted to be a pianist
and i offered to teach you guitar
i played stevie nicks for you
and you said you didn't sing
but your voice is beautiful
and i wish you'd sing for me
you told me about the songs you like
and i went home and made a playlist
it's four months later and i have every song memorized
in alphabetical order
you told me you didn't believe in love
but i know real love and i know forced "love"
and i know i've loved you since that day in september
when you told me i had beautiful handwriting
and i'll never forget how you looked at me
instead of the paper
when the words drifted through the stuffy third-floor air
and i didn't even know your name
so for now i listen to your songs on repeat
and look forward to tomorrow
i just wish i'd kissed you
that evening of the recital
on that ****** piano bench
Jul 24, 2013
Jul 24, 2013 at 11:45 PM UTC
Draped fabric across ebony skin
blues so bright, even the sky fades its light
nestled over the linen
she glances up
a camera smiling
as she giggles with
embarrassment as she fell
the fall is captured as a moment in
time that will never be
lost.
Chilled wine glass in her left hand
cindarella burning against red painted nails
in the other, looking over the balcony she sits
ponders her day as the night sky
fades to red then a deep pitch black
stars like diamonds in the sky above
crickets among the silence
the only noise she hears
distracted.
Her phone lights up with messages from
the day that, she wasn't able to read
as she skims through, a shout is heard
from inside the hotel room
she drops down the phone, places the glass
to the table, and the lighted cigarette to the tray
more time is allowed some space outside
she finishes her smoke, drinks up her wine
shuts down her
phone.
She smiles to herself red lipstick caresses the glass
like a lovers lips touched
not tainted
bottle in cooler, fills the glass to the rim
her heart is warm, soul content
she knows she is loved
unrequited unknown
for now she has a mind
so occupied it's impossible to
know.
----
*"EBONY AND IVORY,
LIVE TOGETHER IN PERFECT HARMONY,
SIDE BY SIDE ON MY PIANO KEYBOARD,
OH, LORD, WHY DON'T WE?"*
Paul McCartney and Stevie Wonder
© Sia Jane
Oct 22, 2013
Oct 22, 2013 at 3:59 PM UTC
young lovers enthralled
in a passion that can
melt the deepest
Alpine snow cap
announce an intention
to join as one
till death do you part
the elders smile
at the audacity of
your grandiloquent
proclamation
youthful optimism
expressing pollyannish
sentiments born
of wistful hope
yet to learn the rules
of the vows of matrimony
and the endless sweet labor
required to keep it alive and well
thus i pass on this sage advice
when the baby cries at night
when the car won't start
when the rent bill is due
and you find yourself
a bit short
i wish you love...
when the cupboard is bare
and the desire to satiate
swelling hunger pangs
is overwhelming
i wish you love…
when you find yourself travelling
through roads that are
unfamiliar and foreboding
when you are hopelessly lost
in the darkest reaches
of the Black Forest
i wish you love…
as you grow as individuals
straining your relationship
when in laws become outlaws
and the pulls and pushes
of family and friends becomes
unfamiliar and misunderstood
i wish you love…
when resentments and insecurities
conspire to undermine trust
when greener pastures
pose a mirage of better things
i wish you love…
when oversight and neglect
leave you empty
when the luster of the
edelweiss bloom fades
when exasperation melts
the Alps greatest glacier
flooding everything you have
when the untended furnace
doesn't fire and the last
log is consumed
be patient
be diligent
be expectant
be kind
hold on to it
believe in it
practice it
trust it
may it bind you
in a perfect circle
and all your fondest
hopes and wishes
will be yours
i wish you love…
Stevie Wonder
Signed Sealed Delivered
Salutation for
Engagement Party
Maxine Lintel and
Glendon McCallum
Munich
11/29/13
jbm
Nov 30, 2013
Nov 30, 2013 at 12:09 PM UTC
157 Riverside Avenue
I can hear the razz-ma-tazz piano, ah the sound so sweet
lead up to an old thyme rock tune, making me tap my feet
the clubs have come and gone, changing names over and over
but the music has never left, on this south side of Dover
rock and roll star wanna be's, long hair and fancy pants
kickin out the tunes for us, hoping that we'll dance
here's a tune by rocker Lynyrd, or one by Stevie Ray
even some old R & B, like Sittin on the dock of the Bay
we sat around and drank our beer, raising hell till 2 a.m.
had to go to work next day, and survive that crap mayhem
it did not really matter though, we'd do it again tonite
cause we were young and feisty, and the music made it all seem right
loud guitars and crashing drums, a fiddle and a flute
as long as it was in the right key, we didn't give a hoot
every Thursday thru Saturday night, drink shots and smoke **** too
it just didn't get any better then, 157 Riverside Avenue
Gomer LePoet...
Jul 20, 2010
Jul 20, 2010 at 3:16 PM UTC
Karen Carpenter, bridged sued cap d'hiver,
(which I hear will be very en vogue this summer)
fringe falling, as gracefully as music flowing through her veins,
(a Pucci jumpsuit, a throwback to times, of rock and roll)
Pinned hair, taped face to secure a wig cap,
(a daily communion bonding her soul to her self)
those Miu Mui boots, leather wrapped sewn to her body
(to which is laying amid candle light gypsy retreat)
A left thigh, glance of the subtly disguised tattoos inscribing her body,
(do we mark our body, to impress others or to claim our own bodies)
silk Chloé gown, gypsy princess of Parisian quarters,
(Jakarta may someday be a resting place for an unsettled soul)
Placing pencil to paper, poetry writes me as lyrics write her,
(do the ivory keys of the Grand Piano fuse inspiration)
piercing red nails, grasping left handed she writes writes writes,
(maybe notes of her future travels dreams aspirations)
A 70's heroine, born to the wrong era standing in the past,
(Yoko Ono Led Zep Stevie Nicks, mahatma's of a lost scene)
innocence purity porcelain ******* torn from a womb too soon,
(not at once a smile, reflective nostalgia unwavering past future)
A fallen tear drop, a hopelessness of peace in her eyes,
(one can see both tattoos of present; ARTPOP, of past; peace symbol)
a fallen angel, legacy leaving her mark on a generation of those lost,
Her left wrist shows a peace sign as a commitment to such peace
Will this ever be a possibility on a planet we call earth?
© Sia Jane
Apr 21, 2014
Apr 21, 2014 at 12:48 PM UTC
157 Riverside Avenue
I can hear the razz-ma-tazz piano, ah the sound so sweet
lead up to an old thyme rock tune, making me tap my feet
the clubs have come and gone, changing names over and over
but the music has never left, on this south side of Dover
rock and roll star wanna be's, long hair and fancy pants
kickin out the tunes for us, hoping that we'll dance
here's a tune by rocker Lynyrd, or one by Stevie Ray
even some old R & B, like Sittin on the dock of the Bay
we sat around and drank our beer, raising hell till 2 a.m.
had to go to work next day, and survive that crap mayhem
it did not really matter though, we'd do it again tonite
cause we were young and feisty, and the music made it all seem right
loud guitars and crashing drums, a fiddle and a flute
as long as it was in the right key, we didn't give a hoot
every Thursday thru Saturday night, drink shots and smoke **** too
it just didn't get any better then, 157 Riverside Avenue
Gomer LePoet...
Jan 16, 2015
Jan 16, 2015 at 6:46 PM UTC
Stevie G!
What will Liverpool be,
Without you,
Your the one,
Our only son,
But what's done is done,
Stevie G!
What will football be,
Without you,
Your the best,
Above the rest,
In the north west,
Stevie G!
What will we be,
Without you,
Your our heart,
It's broken apart,
You have a new start,
Stevie G!
You will always be,
Our hero lad,
Good luck to you,
In all you do,
We love you,
Stevie G!
Remember me,
Without you,
Liverpool will cry,
Tears in our eye,
When you say goodbye,
To our Stevie G.
May 16, 2015
May 16, 2015 at 6:10 AM UTC
The way your eyes shine makes me glad I'm not blind. Actually, I think about it all the time.
Even Stevie wouldn't wonder, I mean lightning looks good but it's the feeling of the thunder, ya know?
Why are we always so reckless? Broken hearts on your checklist.
I'm thinking I want more than that. I'm all turnt, how'd I end up in this cul-de-sac?
Someone flipped the light switch. I'm like thank you Mr. Edison.
I want more than just a side stitch. Shout out to Lilo, Disney mention.
Did I mention? I always pay attention. That's why your boy can always tell when you're not yourself.
I just want the real you. I'm sick of chicks with scripts baby tell the truth.
Oct 21, 2015
Oct 21, 2015 at 1:47 AM UTC
"C'mon Stevie you got to show them what you're made off!"
"I did and your mother was very impressed."
"C'mon Stevie you got to show them what you're made off!"
"I auditioned but they said I was too big."
"C'mon Stevie you got to show them what you're made off!"
"You do realise that Kathryn Janeway reffered to me everytime she said 'Captain's Log' don't you?"
"C'mon Stevie you need to go out more and show the world what you can do."
I can't, I'm like Japanese **** Entirely censored.
"Come inside"
chuckles
"Can I come over?"
"You"
"What?"
"What?"
**** Off!"
"You're On!"
*******
"."
"C'mon Stevie show em what you're made off!"
"Have you read this?"
Mar 1, 2015
Mar 1, 2015 at 8:14 AM UTC
When I was in the start
of my mental illness problem,
I exhibited physical movements
which bothered me,
because I thought they
were crazy,
but now, some forty years later,
I realized
that what I was doing
was mental illness yoga,
which was the body's way
of trying to cure me,
and the first yogic movement
that I did
was rocking back and forth
as I was sitting,
so now
I have tried it
by synchronizing
my breathing
and my internal music
along with it,
and it becomes
very healing,
so my mentally ill mother
used to tap
her fingers
on her legs
one at a time,
so I have tried that
and synchronized it,
and a friend
used to pull down
on his sideburns
in a kind of stroking manner,
so that's a good one,
and another friend
stroked his legs
back and forth
just above the knees,
and that one is excellent,
so I move my legs
in opposite directions, fast,
back and forth,
and that one works well,
so I roll my head around
in circles,
and that actually is
a yogic practice
called head rolls,
and I move my head
back and forth, sideways,
like Stevie Wonder,
and that works great,
so I would suggest
that if you have
any kind of eccentric movements
like these,
to develop them
and turn them into yoga,
because it just might be
the answer
to many problems.
May 15, 2013
May 15, 2013 at 9:55 AM UTC
EMILY DICKINSON:
You gave us the bumble bee who has a soul,
The everlasting traveler among the hollyhocks,
And how God plays around a back yard garden.
STEVIE CRANE:
War is kind and we never knew the kindness of war till
you came;
Nor the black riders and clashes of spear and shield out
of the sea,
Nor the mumblings and shots that rise from dreams on
call.
1.5k
Teeth chatter and butts raise above seats,
Riding pickups atop the corduroy road,
Thunder claps of rubber bass beats,
Slapping the undercarriage's rusty odes.
The tires rhythmic riffs are risky,
Clavinet keys echo wood beams over muddy water,
Walter Murphy drinks a Fifth of Beethoven's whiskey,
Leaving superstitions for Stevie to Wander.
Mar 21, 2018
Mar 21, 2018 at 1:26 AM UTC
"She puts her feet up. "I have literally just been in this place of zero fear. I just believe, as totally hippy ******** as that sounds, anything's possible if you're willing to grab it and make it your own. You look at Stevie Nicks. Did she have the most amazing voice in the world? **** no -- but she got on stage and she owned every molecule inside of herself and completely captured every molecule around everybody else in the entire room. She was this poster child for, 'I don't give a **** it's about my soul and my spirit and my music, and you either dig it or you don't.' And that's kind of my take on all this -- minus the ****** words." - erin wasson
Aug 2, 2013
Aug 2, 2013 at 9:33 AM UTC
*I compliment my compliments
because my compliments complement compliments
on multiple levels*
- Stevie
Sep 8, 2014
Sep 8, 2014 at 12:54 PM UTC
I love to hear the songs my mother listened to...
For when she was advising
that was what was playing...
"The love and happiness"
That Al Green stuff.
That stevie wonder,
Off the Wall,
Fat Luther Stuff
I want to hear a band
back up a love ballad...
Because When My mother advised
She showed me good music....
But now my uncle had a baby
A real NWA
sowing his seed
to that "face down *** up thats the way I like to...."
and well thats what he advised
because all throughout the house
it was "All the way live"
And now my cousin got a baby...
Two Chains sounds way better than One..
And since muppet babies don't come on
the lil man hears Wacka Flacka Flame
When the radio comes on
See the labels say it best
Parental advisory
So the music they suggest
will be what rules
Society...
Jun 13, 2013
Jun 13, 2013 at 4:56 PM UTC
And so it begins, this tale of woe,
As a howling wind began to blow.
She brushed her hair one last time,
And set about her perfect crime.
Anticipating the sound of key in lock.
She glanced herself whilst taking stock.
She could not help but stop and admire,
Her provocative sensual ****** attire.
Black matching lace expensive Lingerie,
Purchased especially from town that day.
She carefully rolled her stockings on.
Any sense of guilt had all but gone.
Placing her feet in her killer red heels.
Reminiscing how he liked how they feel.
Consoling herself as the widow Ms Carter,
As she hid the capsule in her French garter
In the kitchen now the lights are dim,
And the candles flicker, flicker for him.
She hears the sound of his key in the door,
As she prepares the meal, a meal to die for.
Jun 24, 2014
Jun 24, 2014 at 4:42 PM UTC
yr whisky-flavoured voice of
what seems 20 years your senior makes
infinitely better th'
first coffee , smoke after long hot shower;
it being slow, rainy thursday morning, solo
in Granada (clicking of
stilettos on wet pavement coming thru
thrown-wide windows.)
all the hounds
of old Spain
can't find me ...
Sep 14, 2012
Sep 14, 2012 at 4:49 PM UTC
Somewhere beneath the broad darkness
and the landslide, there’s a pocket
of nothingness, like the air bubbles
that oxygenate red wine. And somewhere
inside that, there I am,
mime-hands loving Stevie Smith
and all she stood for. A void
is just a void, and a poem
is just a poem, no matter how
you read it. You can bring this
into the church and line it up with the stained glass,
looking for a hidden meaning,
but I know this nothingness intimately,
like I know soft skin and the taste of *****
and there is nothing to be found in there
that isn’t already inside you, except
maybe warmth and candlelight
and the idea that nothing is too far gone
to not be saved anymore. Sometimes,
I think people intentionally obscure what they mean,
like they’re not good enough for a line break,
and like it’ll be easier to rationalise being left behind
if they were limping from the start of the race
anyway. Anyway. Sorry about this;
sorry about all of this, I just really like how it looks
when you try to work any of this out.
Because it looks dismal. It looks like a pregnant
sundial churning out another day,
another day that might be Sunday,
but it also might not. It’s not like I know.
I think this stopped being a poem a few lines ago
and started being something to burn, instead,
but you can take the smallest of lighters
to the mightiest of Goliaths and they’ll scream
all the same. I heard that lobsters scream
if you put them in boiling water whilst they’re still alive.
I feel like that sometimes.
I don’t know if I’m the lobster or the water,
most days. I think I know now.
I think I know something, now,
at least.
Aug 9, 2020
Aug 9, 2020 at 7:10 PM UTC
up on Boot Hill
the sun sets early
the soaked anguish
of grieving mothers
swaddled in
twilight's vestments
mourn the death
of another murdered
child
we roll our eyes
and speak in tongues
tiny prayers
incant
RIP
these reflexive bits,
our shattered votives
litter city boulevards
on each solemn
street corner
new alters
of desecration
are erected
then despoiled with
the wasted wax of
misspent novenas
our extended families
are bloodlines of fear
spawning
prostrate men
tattooed with
multicolored pain
who refuse to cover
body marks
bespeaking epic tales
of sorrow,
divisions
countless separations
also marking
righteous reasons
of seething
resentments
eager to settle
accounts
sweet vendettas
clever ambushes
carefully deliberated
for generations
by discordant clans
believing in malice
exalting guns
shared loss
is our
common
affliction
uniting everyone
in envelopes of sadness
becoming live
Dear John letters
bearing news of dearly
departed loves
atop the coffins
of dead children
votives pile high
with scrawled eulogies
of fevered graffiti
solemnly pledging
“gonna make someone suffer
gonna even the score
never forget you
RIP”
and we all die
looking stupid as hell
lamenting
love don’t rest in peace
hearing
it scream from the grave
witnessing
the hallowed earth
churning with revulsion
accepting the bitter ashes
of another dead child
for the love of you
is your funeral march
love don’t RIP
it stalks the tomb
of indifference
it mourns
the ambivalence
of its devaluation
it haunts the
day dreams
of what could
have been
it restlessly
flits among
the playgrounds
of our minds
cluttering the rooms
of our homes
with grief
up on Boot Hill
we clasp the
small hands
protruding from
shallow graves
groping to find
a graceful sleep
for love don’t
rest in peace
Stevie Wonder:
Love Is In Need of Love Today
Written to honor
Love Appreciation Day
jbm
Oakland
1/19/13
Feb 18, 2013
Feb 18, 2013 at 5:45 PM UTC
I listen to male artists,
Men who remind me of my father,
And his pain,
And my pain.
I imagine they sing to me,
Protect me,
Love me,
Give me all I've never been given before,
Everything I was supposed to feel,
Everything that was supposed to show me how people work.
I listen to deep, strained voices and reflect,
Connect to things I’ll never experience.
Men are angry,
Worthy of their feelings,
Allowed to unleash their rage in screams and electric guitars and unnecessarily loud drum solos.
I listen to music sung by men,
But I also listen to Stevie Nicks,
Joni Mitchell,
Janis Joplin,
Joan Baez,
Even Dolly Parton.
Hell, even Olivia Rodrigo.
I listen to women who are angry,
Angry and still women,
Surviving through agony and still women,
“Leather and lace,”
Black clothes and black makeup,
Singing about beauty and moonlight and darkness,
Female rage.
I don't have to be at peace to be a woman,
I don't have to be happy to be a woman,
I don't have to be pretty to be a woman,
You don’t have to like me for me to still be a woman.
Let me be angry,
Let me feel pain,
Let me be lost,
Let me like the darkness,
Let me find comfort in the night,
Let me chase impossible dreams and impossible feelings,
Let me feel everything I feel.
Women are put in a box of emotions,
Too sensitive,
Too dramatic,
Too simple.
I am not sensitive or dramatic or simple,
Don't put me in that box,
Don’t tell me what I am,
Don’t tell me how to feel,
Don’t tell me what my feelings mean,
What they make me,
Don’t project your weakness onto me,
I am not weak,
I am not weak,
I am not weak.
Let me be raw and witchy and honest,
Let me be intelligent and intuitive,
Let me see more than you'll ever see in the world,
Let me be frustrated and misunderstood and just a little too loud,
Let me be a woman,
Let me be me the way I should be.
Feb 11, 2024
Feb 11, 2024 at 3:42 PM UTC
Her face; like the moon, a golden summer hue
But I prefer her dressed in blues
Like ocean waves; or Stevie Ray
𝐵𝒶𝒷𝓎, 𝐼’𝓂 𝑜𝓃 𝓂𝓎 𝓌𝒶𝓎
Her body; like a plume, of feathered emeralds
Elegant, and gentle
Like cursive script; or a wind-swept kiss
𝐵𝒶𝒷𝓎, 𝒾𝓉’𝓈 𝑜𝓃𝓁𝓎 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝐼 𝓂𝒾𝓈𝓈
Her soul; like a treasure trove, of good intentions
And one too many exceptions
Like one more last dance; or shotgun romance
𝐵𝒶𝒷𝓎, 𝐼 𝒹𝑜𝓃’𝓉 𝒹𝑒𝓈𝑒𝓇𝓋𝑒 𝒶 𝓈𝑒𝒸𝑜𝓃𝒹 𝒸𝒽𝒶𝓃𝒸𝑒
Jul 21, 2021
Jul 21, 2021 at 12:06 AM UTC