I’ve been conditioned
like freshly washed hair
for years
do not offend
unless the end of the sentence is “im sorry”
let the shoes and boots and heels of many make indents on you
like blueprints of demurity swaddled in insecurity
kept alive by the blurry ideas i once held about femininity
because i couldn't be a girl if the words that flew from my chords
were anything but rosy
ring around the Josie, pockets full of suppose he was to compliment your ****
when walking down a thorough-fair
busy people back and forth and grandmas with wrinkled sweaters
thank you
muttered from chapped lips and an even more chapped psyche
why must i keep my wits about to not risk making him angry
that was not complimentary but i am fearful he might spit my words back onto me
in the form of fists and slurs and honestly
im tired
of being the sidewalk beneath the feet of creeps
i am the sky and the trees and the moon
but i do not speak with the wisdom of travelling seeds
i speak with the warmth and subtlty of freshly microwaved milk
like soft silk i wish i could tatter
i wish venom soaked words could be spit in response to your “compliments”
but i would rather let you diminish me for the few moments it takes to objectify me
than to risk angering your inner beast and suffering the consequences of meninism or masculinism
whatever the word is this week
i will not be another number
ink soaked paper red with the monthly bloodshed of the sisters
every second is another unspeakable act
i see women
with tongues as round and large as planets
and tonsils the size of solar systems
birthing new galaxies in the words they speak
and shooting comets like fiery ***** of comebacks
when that slack-jawed fool sat and wished and drooled
into his monthly issue of mens rights magazine
she tore down the even minuscule belief he could have had that he had the right to comment on her body
in three seconds his pride, and entitlement
shifted into shame
and embarrassment
and i envy these women
because the only time i can take back my power
is when i am standing in front of a room
speaking rhymes and metaphors preaching independence and strength
to a group of people who now think i am a hero
i am not a hero
i put my shoes on one foot at a time
and i still manage to forget a couple days of birth control here and there
and i cant stand up for myself
in the moments after an attack i retreat into my latte and pray today will not be the day the male dominated society takes my power away
because i am small
and though i am growing every day
i still can only pray
that one way or another
i will be able to be as strong a woman as my sisters
my mother
and take back my power
and speak not with the beauty of a flower
but with the sharpness of a bumblebees sting
and one more thing
your compliments
are not complimentary

Hollywood sell-outs, bands change
it's only now a new ******* age.
Disney new ballet is ***** to
money, and ideals we knew
vanish with subtlty

Michael Bay puts
the spode into explosion
while the media ****
francises and more.

Horror remakes are they
such a good idea? Suddenly
Jason and Freddy no longer
bring fear. Robert Englund walks
with a stick, but Hollywood
this shtick no good.

Entertainment industry
thrive on naiveity while
we sink deeper into
simplicity. Education
stagnating as a whole
with cries of purity
and morals galore.

Blood and gore we crave
we want, so Roth and Saw
sold us hard, but questions
now number on the minds
as people question our
sanity.

Marvel the gods and
Heroes have forgotten the
way, they're now
in Disney sway.

People are dancing to
the new sensation,
it's lacks a plot,
it vilifies most and
fills with hesitation.
It's High School Musical.

'I want Edward Cullen'
girls now cry, 'He's like
so hot and sweet' Twilight
is the new blue.

The Boy wizard now grown
up he's out of Hogwarts with
friends in tow, pursuing new
careers and other goals.

Sony and Microsoft strive for the
crown while Nintendo say jump
we all ask 'How high?'

Guitar hero, play like a
star, with a couple of buttons
and combinations, you master
AC to the DC with Stones and more.

People yell Fail at Vista,
though eagerly await
Windows 7. Meanwhile
Apple as a company
considered arrogant,
with branches in every
market, ranging with
ipods and iphones, well
you know what they say,
an eye for eye leaves the
whole world blind.

Instant messages and cyber
chat, issue this proclaimation,
that letters are dead and no
longer cool. Conform and
drop archaic methods.

Facebook, Myspace, Bebo
and more, we push for
perfection with a social
site. While people Digg
and Stumble whatever
more.

DIAF we yell to haters,
flaming and trolling
youtube and sites.

Everything viral it's now said
the mistakes you make
could be shown a day later
on any video site.

Generation X move out
and baby boomers time
is up, we're the MTV Generation,
utter jerks, brought up by net,
we learn l33t by age 10 but
english, come again? LOL
and ****, we laugh and laugh
but really we sigh.

Canwehazsanity?
a cute kitty asks

I’ve been conditioned
like freshly washed hair
for years
do not offend
unless the end of the sentence is “I’m sorry”
let the shoes and boots and heels of many make indents on you
like blueprints of demurity swaddled in insecurity
kept alive by the blurry ideas i once held about femininity
because i couldn't be a girl if the words that flew from my chords
were anything but rosy
ring around the rosie,
pockets full of suppose he was to compliment your ****
when walking down a thorough-fair
busy people back and forth and grandmas with wrinkled sweaters
thank you
muttered from chapped lips and an even more chapped psyche
why must i keep my wits about to not risk making him angry
that was not complimentary but i am fearful he might spit my words back onto me
in the form of fists and slurs and honestly
im tired
of being the sidewalk beneath the feet of creeps
i am the sky and the trees and the moon
but i do not speak with the wisdom of travelling seeds
i speak with the warmth and subtlty of freshly microwaved milk
like soft silk i wish i could tatter
i wish venom soaked words could be spit in response to your “compliments”
but i would rather let you diminish me for the few moments it takes to objectify me
than to risk angering your inner beast and suffering the consequences of meninism or masculinism
whatever the word is this week
i will not be another number
ink soaked paper red with the monthly bloodshed of the sisters
every second is another unspeakable act
i see women
with tongues as round and large as planets
and tonsils the size of solar systems
birthing new galaxies in the words they speak
and shooting comets like fiery ***** of comebacks
when that slack-jawed fool sat and wished and drooled
into his monthly issue of mens rights magazine
she tore down the even minuscule belief he could have had that he had the right to comment on her body
in three seconds his pride, and entitlement
shifted into shame
and embarrassment
and i envy these women
because the only time i can take back my power
is when i am standing in front of a room
speaking rhymes and metaphors preaching independence and strength
to a group of people who now think i am a hero
i am not a hero
i put my shoes on one foot at a time
and i still manage to forget a couple days of birth control here and there
and i cant stand up for myself
in the moments after an attack i retreat into my latte and pray today will not be the day the male dominated society takes my power away
because i am small
and though i am growing every day
i still can only pray
that one way or another
i will be able to be as strong a woman as my sisters
my mother
and take back my power
and speak not with the beauty of a flower
but with the sharpness of a bumblebees sting
and one more thing
your compliments
are not complimentary