womanhood womanhood

would you say you loved me?
or would that
make you too womanly?
a pussy,
not man enough,
hard enough. you have
only yourself to answer to.
one breath of fragility, i
don’t doubt you are brave enough.

would you say you loved me
on a mountaintop?
making a racket,
agitating the atmosphere
never caring who hears.
hardly thinking of rebuking.
only women fall in love,
only weak, useless men stoop that low,
don’t they?

rules of the game

everyone’s looking for love, aren’t they?
everyone’s got dreams, goals, don’t they?
everyone has their place
everyone has a face
a right to speak
and judgement to listen
everyone fits in
everyone makes sense
every woman wants to be a mother,
every man wants to find another
female satisfaction is a myth
who wrote that book, who was that bold wordsmith?
who decided life could be drawn out
predicted, calculated beyond doubt
who decided what defines a man?
who said woman can’t, but men can
i pity the newborn child whose first gasp
forces them into our world of endless grasp
at meaning suggested in the theory book
but nowhere to be found on closer look

lover’s return

the evening drapes its velvet weight
across my restless shoulders
a dutiful friend, its breath warms my neck
yet its heaviness
dizzies me, hot flushes
lifting me away from concrete security.
sweating, in the pressure
cooking, boiling,
the bubbling pressure
of making sure everything
goes – just – right.
tonight, tonight – not just any night,
this is not a night of rehashing,
of restating, but
a night of advancement.
like a swan through a silent lake, we
must surge ahead
and leave behind those menageries
of regret.
this is redemption’s beacon,
atonement’s spotlight,
held fast and steady. tonight, all things hand
between solitude and togetherness,
between walls and fields,
diamond and wood.
a tightrope, beneath which rocks threaten
and in the distance, children play.
tonight, that cliff-top playground
beckons you, calling you –
will you hear it?
will you come back, come back to me?
will you listen to their voices, hear their call?
they are calling you, my darling,
as i have called, endlessly, for you.
so tonight, when the lights go down
and the candles flicker,
when the windows are opened
and the lily’s fragrance flutters down the drive,
will you come?
will you take steps back,
however cautious, and feel the heat
of home again?
tonight, all rests with you.
your finger lies on the trigger,
your scissors touch the rope,
your hands hold the axe.
but i have placed you there, appointed you.
darling, will you come?
on this night, will you delve within your heart
to find some ounce of grace,
some drop of mercy,
to splash in the cauldron of my memory?
tonight, as the purple descends
and the yellow, white, orange rises,
will you come?

an average rarity

your eyes are normal eyes
and your hands are normal too
under your normal clothes
masked, but not disguised
a normal, average body lies.
kept in decent shape,
even your hair may pass
merely another head
young, edgy, but
hardly noticeable, or remarkable.
each person passes by
away in thoughts their own
rarely do they look at you
taken away by you,
stunned by you, longing to be
kissed by you. but
i could look at you for a thousand years and never
perceive you as anything less than perfect

– you – make – my – heart – skip –

club culture

the week meets its end, lectures all done.
assignments complete, now time for fun!
time to do shots, and dress to impress,
cry over outfits, then wear even less.
bop to a beat in a deafening room,
silhouettes blurring in an alcoholic doom.
stumbling home, with a box full of chips
messy and sweaty, your mood never dips.
you crawl into bed, to meet dizzy dreams,
memories of vodka and bright lazer beams.
when morning comes, the nausea sets in,
in bed all day, keeping close to the bin.
your flatmate comes knocking – ‘you up for tonight?’
your headache starting seering as they switch on the light.
you wipe off the makeup, and heave yourself up
pour out some cheap wine in a chipped dirty cup.
the cycle keeps going, for night after night –
headaches, vomit, and the end’s not in sight.
it’s endless excitement, going out on the town –
isn’t it? you think, as you chug the drink down.

hold on, have faith

haven’t i told you what i meant?
over, and over,
losing my mind as i wrestle
dangerously close to my tether’s end.
outside, the sky is blue and fluffy,
nothing happens, nothing changes –
home is here and home is happy,
a happy home, have we.
vows and celebrations wait
eager for our hands to meet,
faces flushed and hearts pumping
any minute now, any minute
in i’ll walk in white. but
the bells will ring empty in our
hearts, disconnected from what could be.