Corporate Inequality

Wore green shoes –
a shock of colour
to highlight business –
attire aimed to succeed.

Walked ten blocks
rode fourteen floors
passed security,
heels continually clicking.

Navigating male-dominated
passages, I was driven
ignored patronizing comments
exercised for corporate ladder

But the lies, the betrayal,
the dirty little secrets,
they taunted me –
sold me out in back rooms

Broke under pressure
vile accusations, improper
propositions – How did
gender equate with progress

How did firmness of pert
breasts, the flash of muscled
calves, exempt me from rising –
Why should my efforts fall short

By refusals to drop my panties
and who could I go to –
boss and boss’s boss
all male, in on the plots

Big business banking –
financially fruitful
personally demoralizing –
I walked away, morals intact.

(For Reena’s Exploration Challenge:featured image.   Sexual harassment was rampant during the 70’s and 80’s.   Although we have known progress, the struggle for equality continues.)

Current Confusion

Project importance on institutions
confused about what is legitimate

You see, I am worn out,
stunned by reality.

Officials promote chaos
critical thinking a stretch

Anyway, I’m anxious,
almost off the rails.

How do I pull back the strings
that control these emotions

disconnect from the idiocy
allow clarity to guide choices?

(Image from personal collection.)

 

The Pawn

Of course she is away
caught in the schism
of her parents’ divorce
played like a pawn

She is emotionally numb
incapable of articulating
wants and desires – broken
though no one notices.

(Poem originally appeared on Twitter.  Visit me @Vjknutson.  Image from personal collection.)

Is There An Exit Strategy?

Following political tides –
mesmerized by neglect
of actual issues – playing
to an audience of moaners
(standard consumerist
plights) – glossing over
exploitation of women,
verbal slaughter of race,
religion and social values.

Wondering about media –
who commandeer bias,
swallowing atrocities and
spewing contrived truths,
absent sound voice, or will,
jeopardizing the security
of so many trampled in
the race for what? Surely
not responsibility – what

lapse of conscience has
allowed hateful rhetoric
to bloody progress, no
consequences?  Who will
bear the burden when in
the absence of morality
or respect for humanity,
the margins will increase?

The world quakes at the
failure to acknowledge
this broken path, see only
a devaluation of assets,
perceive a race that did
no more than increase
the monarchy of a king,
grant power to absolve
sins – a sleight-of-hand
trick – nothing to do with
the common habitants –
have so many questions
about how they’ll proceed.

(First penned in November of 2016, I am resubmitting this piece for Reena’s Exploration challenge#120.  Image from personal collection.)

Christmas Baking

Dates soften in the pan –
I stir with preoccupation
fresh-faced excitement
motivating each step.

I measure sugar, oats,
flour, the enormity
of my heart’s capacity
to love these young ones.

Add butter, and mix,
each stroke a hug,
anticipating enjoyment
a sweet connection.

Pat and bake, timer set,
bright eyes and tiny palms
lift upwards with sparkle –
Christmas cheer upon us.

(For Ragtag Community’s prompt: mix.  Image from personal collection.)

Freak of Nature

Big Bird, peers called me
or Grasshopper – legs longer
than torso, exaggerated
by the platform shoes
of the time.

Jumbo Jet, another moniker
or No Hips, No Ass –
or simply Tree –
my height towering
for my age.

Awkward an understatement –
self-conscious, exposed,
the ridicule outweighing
any nurturing support –
self-declared freak.

(For BrewNSpew’s weekly challenge: awkward)

Insecurity Resolved

Unnerved by invitations –
isolation equates with security –
fear the onslaught of questions,
the unleashing of a torrent –
emotions flooding, crashing
through this gated illusion –
best to withdraw.

Withdraw my best
when gated by illusion
crashing, emotions flood –
need to tame this torrent
question the onslaught, brave
insecurity, negate isolation
embrace the invitations.

(Tuesdays, I borrow from my Twitter poems. Follow me @Vjknutson.  The first stanza is the original poem.  I left it here,  then unsatisfied, decided to turn it upside down and create a new outcome. .  Image from personal collection.)

Underestimated

Novice, a word that negates
experience, knowledge, merit –
capability under suspicion.

I novice myself frequently,
as if vulnerability is a sideline
and humility commands denigration.

A tired and weary state –
yes, this is me, new and willing
to learn, but I am not novice.

So before you judge, adjust
your professional spectacles,
snub my potential, hear this:

Value is immeasurable –
unique contributions
enhance collective offerings.

(Reena’s Exploration challenge this week is based on “The Story of An Hour” which challenges us to examine our life and limitations.  I dream over and over again that I have returned to teaching only to find that the years I have put in have been negated by my absence and I have to begin again.  Starting over is not a new theme in my life, but my attitude about is finally changing, as represented in the poem.  Image from personal collection.)