What is the fallout of oppression –
misinformation ignoring collective needs?
Focus on we, as if we is me, and
they are the reason our attempts fail
Assertiveness has no hold
when obligations are cheapened
And time/ history is ignored
for a feel-good moment now.
How does one decipher the nonsense
weed through the flimsy constructs
And realign with a vision –
powered by love for all?
(Image my own)
Mother followed all the trends –
Scarsdale and grapefruit diets,
minis and maxis,
platforms and pumps –
reaching for an ideal
my child’s mind
could not comprehend
Father dreamt of a voice makeover
had flown his ancestral roots
in search of…what?
I did not know
I learned that men
were to be pleased,
and compassion
was a woman’s role
and it was folly to hazard
confrontation when alcohol
was in the mix,
Intangible as life was
I deduced that secrets –
the avoidance of scandal –
rendered women ineffective
and by the very circumstance
of my birth, I was tainted,
weighted by shame
destined to endure
pain as love
invested in
my worthlessness
Except life is evolution
and rage emerges
from oppression
and conviction
smashes the impotence
of ideals, embraces
the abstracts
of fluidities,
and merging out of shame
I see that struggle
is opportunity
and that rewriting legacies
is an honourable goal
and I do have power
in any given moment…
only wish
I had known it
sooner.
(Art my own)
Connections, like bridges,
run between us –
no matter how subtle –
nations and individuals;
there is no divide
Imagine if we acted
on this knowledge –
mindful and kind –
not subtle the outcome,
I should think.
(Image my own. Imagine Bridges first appeared here September 2019)
Can’t have it both ways –
exposed and sheltered
Trending displays
invite dissociation
Drive for universal appeal
gags intuition
Violates inner sanctuaries –
personalities have limits
“All about me” overdone
ghosts authenticity
(Art mine)
Bubble-wrapped memories –
days when travel was frequent,
wine poured freely,
fitness a given.
Even in those sun-soaked days
we were restless, unsatisfied…
not till health diminished
and money dried up
did we appreciate
the fragility
of those years.
(Tuesdays, I borrow from Twitter @Vjknutson. Image my own)
Wolves no longer hide in the woods
spurred on by the scent of bloodlust,
whiteness of their fangs sharpened
on the righteousness of iconic fear
No, they find no need for subterfuge
emboldened by this weakened state
society’s heartbeat erratic, signalling
a collective rot…the wolves circle.
(Image my own)
Discharge the gun –
protection a vessel
through which our depths
are undefined…adrift
Fear is a burrower
wears a false crown
births loss
trusts danger
Hearts beg,
amid this trigger-readiness
for a guardian – unafraid
to court this meaningless
Futility unchecked –
to study productive options
unimaginable in the current
state of chaos on repeat.
(Art my own)
So much I want to say,
yet the oppression of opposition
stomps heavily on my airways
cutting off the flow
Daughter of a trans father
mother contemplating MAiD –
embroiled in controversy,
I see only injustice
Cannot fathom the hatred
the railing against books
and glamour, and science,
misappropriation of christianity
How am I supposed to grieve;
take up arms for those I love,
when I am silenced before I speak
judgments cast without a thought?
If I could have a word,
if anyone would listen
I would share, perhaps insight
into the lives of secrets held
Describe how hearts wilt
beneath cruelty of suppression
how torn apart we become
ignorance voiding authenticity
I would tell you of the horrors
that dwelt within our homes
the fear of discovery, of rejection
how ugly it all felt….until
Education offered explanation
and in that opening
we saw potential to climb out
from our shadowy existence
embrace a life in which our love
is neither tainted nor deviant
and tell me please, as I try to listen
how such hopefulness is sin, after all.
(Image my own)
60s were a catalyst for change
opulence of psychedelics
Twiggy and Mary Quant
Beatles and Rolling Stones
make love not war – sit-ins
and flower power…
Who remembers when?
(Tuesdays, I borrow from Twitter @Vjknutson. Image my own. RIP Mary Quant.)
Look at us building fences
pretending we have differences
Do we not hunger the same
hunt in the same places?
Do we not strive with equal intent
build our nests with the same ferocity?
Forgo passion for survival?
Let us stop pretending
Let down these walls
admit to our vulnerabilities
align our purposes, and
fight a more fearsome foe.
(Fences first appeared here in March, 2018. Image my own)
One Woman's Quest 