You are not a girl anymore

Girl you are not a girl anymore

you are a woman

woman you are reviled and judged

for being a woman

when you were a girl it was suffice to

have a nice pair of legs and a pretty mouth

do you recall how often you were asked to ‘cheer up and smile love’

when all you were doing was trying to grow-up and be serious?

how men would do your bidding because of your WonderBra and not the sense of your words

now you are a woman

you will inherit

inequality

double-standards

and not be able to find clothes that feel right in stores not meant for your body

because nothing is going to come easy anymore and still

as you sit there in your curves and your burgeoning skin

feeling the surround of yourself lapping at the corners

you will inherit also

the voice of your round bellied ancestors

who have come ringing through time and again

been judged, poked, prodded or worse, flat out ignored

seen how silver haired men get all the fuss like carefully licked jewels

whilst a woman of substance is

lost lost lost

behind the mad din and snuff of youth

for youth it seems needs a distinguished father of any age

but does not require

a mother

a grandmother

a female sage

for women are judged upon their reproductive abilities and

the years they have lived beneath the moon listening to the shore

if too few, they are deemed unintelligent

too many and nobody wants to hear

for women are judged upon

scales created long before

an even playing field was won

if it has, if it has yet

for women it is easier to become lost after the lights have grown less hot

held to a higher standard than the eternal covet of men

who are picked up and dusted off by many worshipful female hands

too eager to say ‘there, there, I will help you, poor thing’

who shall help then, the woman?

Not her own kind, surely, nor men who adore only youngest vintage

Who shall see her? When she is grown and perhaps does not accept her allotted place

or wish to remain invisible or grow old with pressurized grace

who shall listen when she wants to be heard at any age?

or the desires of her are beyond the sanctioned pail

or her damp passion which does not flip and flop and require Viagra

a woman if she is loved

is ten-fold her maiden self

for the wefts and the welts are earned and learned and now they represent

a splendid coat of multicolor

she wears with pride and sometimes regret

but more often silver wisdom and the softening yet

of her edges into rounded corners and eventually

a supple circle come full

the world may dominate her discourse

the youth may clamor for their right to change the channel

she may slip quietly through the bridled noise

with strong thick womanly thighs

and as men chase their tail and young women cast a gaze that seems to say

who the HELL do you think you are, old lady?

woman, you do not bat your eyes or rise to those absurdities left behind

for she is the wake of day and dusted sleep of night

cradling the future in her all-mighty grip

she learns from being kicked

to stand she must let go of the girl within and be

a woman of our time

casting her pearly net wide as she

swallows the sea and sighs

letting the tide tumble out with her exhaled breath

aaahhh yes

aaahhh yes

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Intoxicate

I fell hard with relief

for being desired after so long, felt like finding water in a desert

I lost my sense

Captured in your confident swagger

The Butch pretension, drove me to my knees

The strength of your arms and thighs

How you led and pulled my chair, touching me briefly with possession

Beneath you, listening to little cries as you feel your way

Tell me is it wrong to want, the security or promise?

From years of being a shadow I was intoxicate by your

Certain stroke

As if you knew me as an instrument of your creating

Pressed beneath you, struck by lightning

A woman is never more beautiful than when she is strong and knows what she wants

You wanted me and I longed for your deep kiss awakening me from obscurity

It is a form of madness and when removed the wound is long to heal

Nothing that comes to pass changes the stamp on my soul

Some emotions are as real

As the hand you feel

Clutching your heart

Certain and hard

You were a passing car in the rain, headlights making patterns on oil and tarmac

Leave sensitivity for the empath, it’s not my nature to wring my hands

Over short lived affairs or hungry people who try

To bleed dry and fill themselves, for they are so empty, even the wind can rattle their bones

If I were ever heartbroken it was as a child, not lying next to you

Watching our trajectories turn and mouth the words without emotion

Too many

What do father’s say

To their knock-knee daughters

Not able to sit on their lap and learn to shave

Their distant allegory

A return of themselves in female form

What would they?

A daughter born

Looks up at he who holds the world

Why do men let me drown Daddy?

Her eyes speak of hurt and scorn

Her belly wasted and torn

Why do they tell me I am no good for?

He who reaches

Into ether

Does not know the words for his daughter’s heart

He wants to break the necks of any who hurt her

But there are just

Too many

Mercy

Answer me

Please

Climb out of impossible and

Dipping quill, write backwards in time

Angling mirrors to lipread

Da Vinci’s reflected scrawl

tell us the unravel to the mystery

Where in this hour should we go?

When they let you down slow

Removing fantasy, layer by layer

Are you there?

On the emptied pier, bare of hope

Dour endings posted like nails in my palm

Is that you? Cresting wave in falling darkness

Light, just a slip of a girl spilling over her dress

It is cream and carries each stain like a mast

Are you there?

Crunching underfoot, doubt that goodness is lost

For you, with your thin shadow, still manage to

Fill me with light

A radiant being, rarefied

How often to find, one whose mission isn’t self

But the betterment of others

You, who don’t even know your worth

If you did, you would hiccup and grow embarrassed

It is not your need to be praised, you are a child of mercy

Your pleasure is in lending kindness, to mend the scold

For this world can be so lonely, and you

Are a house to come in from, settling cold.

 

Faulty thinking

By default

I lay in your bed as you

Stared in the mirror at your golden halo

By default

You reminded me how lucky I was to be

Among the rarefied few

Thank you, thank you

By default

You had this idea you were going to swallow the world

With your music and your songs and your tendency

To gloat

By default

nobody who was ordinary and not scraping grateful

would satisfy your feeling you were owed everything

Weren’t you?

By default

Why didn’t I

Hold a wire to your neck

And ask you icily

How you came to be so full of shit?

Possession

Reveal

Our quaking skin

Submerge the infernal din

Riot of juicy hominids

Purple iris, yellow bud within

For a forest can yield

More I have found

In any art gallery

In manic city vault

Or speakers corner

Where

Scabbing over

The flatulent masses

Thinking their somulant gravy heads

Notable

Wallow in rhetoric and

The absence of things beautiful

Where O where

In dell, in valley, cliff and crag

Scattered like spell

Forever stretches infinite

Sleek as a seal

Catching waves coiling surge

Magic possesses quiet urge