Tag: feminism

Kittens

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Photo by Oleg Magni from Pexels

Someone pointed it out passing by and I cannot shake the disgust

Of what the men following my scared scent were dying to discuss.

Oh, is the skirt too short and buttons too loose for your expensive taste?

“Such a pretty face, too bad all that make up and attitude makes it a waste.”

It’s not the first time this week I’m hearing this centuries old, morbid story,

And I’m not in my teens so I should take it easy and perhaps, just maybe, be sorry?

What a compliment though, their eyes and cars keep following wherever you go

Hence it shouldn’t be a problem, and even if it was – how would you know?

“You’re a lady after all, stop acting like you don’t enjoy being approached

With a bit of flirt, even if it’s scaring you – don’t yell, don’t bring the reproach.”

Keep your mind open if it’s disturbing, some kittens will be drowned in the making

But you can only change culture of power plays and toxic overtaking

If you don’t confuse it with innocent romance-baiting.

Berate all you want, but it’s still your beasts who deserve crating.

-JW

Picture Perfect

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Shattering circus mirrors on grey streets, my boots punching straight through them.

Setting fire to another pastel advert asking “us ladies to starve and lose ‘em”.

You cannot blow up the crooked system telling you how to be happy dying

But you can bite its head off trying to hear how the filtered buzz is lying.

The feathers of poorly made starlet costumes flying off as I tear them open –

If we’re exploring what beauty means, let’s also show the parts that are broken.

There are no friends in ecosystems built out of denying every human emotion,

Made out of caricatures of people who only stay young by staying in motion.

“Another pound gained means another rumour that her husband doesn’t love her –

We didn’t write the rules, it’s her fault she kept thriving when others ran for cover.”

What is this obsession of being camera ready and acting the part as well?

Your life is not up for an Oscar so stop reaching for the poisoned wishing well,

And your lungs are designed to scream not to swallow every shallow remark –

Lovely, please, dig a hole in the dust to bury the voice that haunts you

And leave the grave unmarked.

-JW

“Hard To Work With”

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Photo by Catherine from Pexels

Always threatened to meet my maker if I disobey –

If my smile isn’t wide enough, I have to pay.

If my sleeves are too short, I become the prey.

The world must be someone else’s oyster because to me

It’s another circle in a groundhog day.

Always scared to be left scarred or for the dead –

If I ever talk back, they might crush my head.

If I have some pride, they call me featherbed.

But they can’t stop, I need to be taught a lesson

No matter how much I’ve already bled.

Always scrutinized for not being cautious all the way –

If you get annoyed by my attitude, I don’t get a say.

If you think I’m pretty, I must keep your affection at bay.

And I pray, and I pray, and I pray that there comes a time

Where my experience is not underplayed

So I don’t have to put “hard to work with” on my resume.

-JW