"tittles" poems - Hello Poetry

♀↵ϖ†∅↨⊕☺☼↑↓ Apples will be cantaloupes depending on their nurture; and so I cherish rainbow hopes for our collective future. Oranges elect their hue improving Nature’s seal, while pronouns stifle what is true suppressing the appeal. Fruits may choose to change to nuts and fowls select their plumage. Why settle in Tradition’s ruts? Such rigid roles do damage. Nuts in turn, may feel like flowers, picking how and when to bloom. So ambisexual thought empowers androgynes to court their doom. A leopard, too, may change his spots (or turn into a vegan bunny) No law’s tittles, neither jots make Speciesism funny. If you decide to see it so the sky above is yellow. Perceive as pink the grass beneath and better times must follow. Gender? Merely social constructs – preach it to the masses until tradition self-destructs and *** takes off her glasses. Babies need no Dad (nor Mother): sexist labels, obsolete. Love is blind. There is no other. Bats must bark and chickens bleat. Integrated water closets show how far we have evolved: urinary bank deposits (with no member account involved). Foolish thinking from the past (like water being wet, and such) calls for re-education, fast. The State will lend its human touch compelling all to sing the hymn with genderfluid motions… so birds can preen their scales and swim in dry and waveless oceans. (Yet “hymn” sounds sexist said out loud – we ought to sing a “her” instead… no – make that “us”, since we are proud, lest misconceptions be misread.) Shake a healthy dose of salt upon this strange post-modern food. May God re-set us to default with human common sense renewed.

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Sep 12, 2015

Sep 12, 2015 at 11:05 PM UTC

connecthook

To Birds who Swim in Fishy Notions

♀↵ϖ†∅↨⊕☺☼↑↓ Apples will be cantaloupes depending on their nurture; and so I cherish rainbow hopes for our collective future. Oranges elect their hue improving Nature’s seal, while pronouns stifle what is true suppressing the appeal. Fruits may choose to change to nuts and fowls select their plumage. Why settle in Tradition’s ruts? Such rigid roles do damage. Nuts in turn, may feel like flowers, picking how and when to bloom. So ambisexual thought empowers androgynes to court their doom. A leopard, too, may change his spots (or turn into a vegan bunny) No law’s tittles, neither jots make Speciesism funny. If you decide to see it so the sky above is yellow. Perceive as pink the grass beneath and better times must follow. Gender? Merely social constructs – preach it to the masses until tradition self-destructs and *** takes off her glasses. Babies need no Dad (nor Mother): sexist labels, obsolete. Love is blind. There is no other. Bats must bark and chickens bleat. Integrated water closets show how far we have evolved: urinary bank deposits (with no member account involved). Foolish thinking from the past (like water being wet, and such) calls for re-education, fast. The State will lend its human touch compelling all to sing the hymn with genderfluid motions… so birds can preen their scales and swim in dry and waveless oceans. (Yet “hymn” sounds sexist said out loud – we ought to sing a “her” instead… no – make that “us”, since we are proud, lest misconceptions be misread.) Shake a healthy dose of salt upon this strange post-modern food. May God re-set us to default with human common sense renewed.