The Musings of a Modern Feminist

An amateur poet's take on feminism

Category Archives: poetry

Over and Over and Over Again


I know that I’ve already written about street harassment before. But it’s something that does deeply affect me. The harassment that I have faced has always been brief and fairly mild: a quick grope, a catcall, a leer. But nonetheless, it’s something that ruins my day; I end up miserable, irritable, I cry. I hope that people realise that catcalls, leers and gropes aren’t compliments, having someone shout ‘hey sugar tits’ isn’t flattering, it’s often frightening. Having my space invaded, having someone reduce me to the sacks of fat a carry on my chest or lower back is not pleasant.

But I digress, I present to you: over and over and over again

Light touch
Quick feel
Hours, or days
‘Till it heals.

How did you walk?
What did you wear?
Make up on your face?
Flowers in your hair?

They think you’re pretty!
It’s just attention.
Nothing bad
Just a bit of fun!

I close my eyes
See the leers
Got to shut out
The pain, the tears.

But it passes,
And fades away
For a few short weeks
For a few short days.

Until that light tough
That quick feel
And it’s hours, or days
‘Till it heals.

 

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A brief encounter


He looks and gawks and ogles and stares
At my legs and hips and bum and hair
Taking me apart peace by piece
Heart pounding like a dog in heat.

He cares not for my voice nor my name
Just for my fleshy mortal frame
Possessing my image for his delight
To keep him company one lonely night.

Leaving me bare, vulnerable, alone
A naked girl so far from home.
Not a scrap of cloth to hide behind
To shield me from his lecherous mind.

I remember the place those like him gave me
A caged sex toy,  never to be free.
He moves on, a sigh of relief
A harrowing encounter, though very brief.

From the Soul


Tears
Tears fall
At the latest jibe
At how tall
Or short
Or fat
Or thin
Or that
We wear the wrong
Clothes, make up
Shoes; We mus conform
To their made up
Rules
And regulations.

We’re being made
Less than human.
Not even close
To a woman:
Little more
Than a mass
Of parts
To be passed
Between men.

We cry
And weep
As our sisters’
Blood seeps
Into the soil
Crying for justice.

We Count Too


I suppose this poem is fairly self explanatory and was inspired by this a short piece on tumblr

http://whoneedsfeminism.tumblr.com/post/21037317092/i-need-feminism-because-no-matter-how-many-comics

So remember, We Count Too – enjoy!

We are fans
We are not attention seekers
We like Hans
And DC
And Marvel
We like to see
Our favourite characters
In cross overs
And ships
Just as much as you.

We are not treats
Or accesories
Tender meats
To be comsumed at your pleasure.
We are human
In every weight and measure.
Do not dismiss us
Or deride us
Because we challenge your
Sick power fantasy.

Don’t we deserve our space?
To talk and discuss online
The case
Of Who Shot First
Without being told to sit down
Or at worst
Threatened with assault or rape?
Why do we deserve to be raped?
Why are we ‘ugly dykes’
For opening our mouths?

The Whole Industry


We’re back to feminism this week. So I present this week’s poem:

They say it’s not enough
Never enough
You need more stuff
To make yourself acceptable
Average.
Too much fat
Too little
It’s just that
it’s in the wrong place
The wrong distribution.

Here, buy this cream
This serum
It’ll make you seem
Beautiful
For just an instant

Then you need to buy more
And more
And more
And more….

You must be paler
Or darker
Bigger
Or thinner
Just not yourself
Never yourself.

He’s Alive


Since it is Eastertide I decided to write a poem based around the Resurrection. It is super important to all Christians since the Passion, Resurrection and Ascension forms the basis of the Christian faith and makes sense of the whole New Testament. Without that, Jesus would be just another prophet.

He’s alive
And risen
We have a reason to strive
And keep on living.

He suffered
And he died
His heart sputtered
And gave out.

But no more.
Death has lost it’s sting
We know what life is for
What we are meant to be.

Love well and love all
Regardless of who they are
Love lest you fall
Into the darkness of sin.

He’s alive
Then and nore and forever
And we have a reason to strive
And keep on living.

Spring


Well I have been super busy this week with a bunch of deadlines to meet, so I haven’t had time to write something new or Lenten. So, I give you a poem I wrote about this time last year. It is season appropriate and I hope you like it.

Spring the time of new life and growth,
When trees make a solemn oath
To bear sweet flowers and sweeter fruits
They spread their leaves and dig their roots.

Bears yawn and swallows return
Knowing that it is their turn
To shape the world in all its beauty
That right now is their duty

Lambs dance and daffodils bloom
The threat of winter no longer looms
Over the world so people cheer
In the hope spring lasts all year.

A Journey


I make this journey all the time, every day in fact. Every time I sin, I have to fight my way back to Him again. I just hope that I’ve written this poem in such a way that other Christians can relate.

A dark place
No light
Nor warmth
No strength to fight
The clawing, suffocating damp..
Alone
Well and truly…
Not alone.
A presenc
A kindly being presents
Itself
Just in the corner of my eye.
I feel its light
Why won’t it answer my calls, why?
I walk
Then run
Clawing like a blind man
Searching for the sun.
I feel its Passion
I feel its Pain
And I feel it’s Love
Again and again.
So close, yet so far…
I abandon it all
My worries, my pride
And let myself fall
Into its arms
Warm and safe.
Bathed in a glow
That will forever show
Me the Way
The Truth
And the Life.

Mother’s Day


Since Sunday was Mother’s Day in the UK, I thought I’d post a tribute to mothers everywhere!

A warm smile
A kind word
And all the while
She’s there.

Tired eyes
Busy hands
‘Neath blue skies
Or grey.

A bitter row
A raised voice
When we don’t know how
To behave.

Let it not be
Just one day a year
When we make her see
How much we care.

Sorry


I’m totally dozy and, therefore, I lost my notebook with all my poetry in it 😥

Therefore there shall be no poetry this week but I promise a double release next week to make up for it.

I also apologise for the late release and it will not happen again!

So I leave you with the gospel for last Sunday instead

Since the Passover of the Jews was near, Jesus went up to Jerusalem. He found in the temple area those who sold oxen, sheep, and doves, as well as the money-changers seated there.He made a whip out of cords and drove them all out of the temple area, with the sheep and oxen, and spilled the coins of the money-changers and overturned their tables, and to those who sold doves he said, “Take these out of here, and stop making my Father’s house a marketplace.” His disciples recalled the words of scripture, “Zeal for your house will consume me.”At this the Jews answered and said to him, “What sign can you show us for doing this?” Jesus answered and said to them, “Destroy this temple and in three days I will raise it up.”The Jews said, “This temple has been under construction for forty-six years, and you will raise it up in three days?”But he was speaking about the temple of his body. Therefore, when he was raised from the dead, his disciples remembered that he had said this, and they came to believe the scripture and the word Jesus had spoken. While he was in Jerusalem for the feast of Passover, many began to believe in his name when they saw the signs he was doing. But Jesus would not trust himself to them because he knew them all, and did not need anyone to testify about human nature. He himself understood it well.

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