Love it, love it, love it!! :)
nobody but you
by Charles Bukowski
nobody can save you but
yourself.
you will be put again and again
into nearly impossible
situations.
they will attempt again and again
through subterfuge, guise and
force
to make you submit, quit and/or die quietly
inside.
nobody can save you but
yourself
and it will be easy enough to fail
so very easily
but don't, don't, don't.
just watch them.
listen to them.
do you want to be like that?
a faceless, mindless, heartless
being?
do you want to experience
death before death?
nobody can save you but
yourself
and you're worth saving.
it's a war not easily won
but if anything is worth winning then
this is it.
think about it.
think about saving your self.
your spiritual self.
your gut self.
your singing magical self and
your beautiful self.
save it.
don't join the dead-in-spirit.
maintain your self
with humor and grace
and finally
if necessary
wager your life as you struggle,
damn the odds, damn
the price.
only you can save your
self.
do it! do it!
then you'll know exactly what
I am talking about.
Showing posts with label poetry. Show all posts
Showing posts with label poetry. Show all posts
Tuesday, March 16, 2010
Thursday, August 7, 2008
...and some awesome poems
Again, from Word Warriors. Sorry, couldn't resist. :)
Subtle Sister by Alix Olsen
So we've learned karate,
carry knives on our runs
wield words like weapons
prepare glares like hidden guns,
we've deconstructed, demystified
tried retribution, remythologized,
we've been diagnosed with your diseases,
and still tried pleases, tried tears, tried Jesus.
You wanna see what it's like down here
in this pool of someone else's rules, well
jump in, take a swim or just sit in this pit
squishing bare toes in someone else's bullshit,
we do it all the time.
Still we've tried being patient,
collected, calm, nice
trying praying, tried laying you
paying the price,
we've learned to scream
until our throats throbbed
what else do you do
while your cunt's being robbed.
And they say "you've made progress, girls,
take a rest in between"
but see while you're resting,
someone else is progressing,
it's what i've seen.
So i take back the whispers,
the cute mute act,
and the high-pitched giggles, yeah
i take them back,
i won't avoid your stare, evade your step,
nothing of that kind,
won't help you help me victimize
the only space that's mine.
See now i'd put my life on the line just to see them trip,
frown and say "funny love, i never saw you slip."
i say, "my life on the line--"
you say, "man, she's jaded."
i say, "maybe control's overrated."
like when we cackled, they called us witches,
now we don't giggle they call us bitches
well i'm cacklin loud, taking it back, full of hiss,
cacklin loud, cackling proud now.
And they're getting nervous with this kissing each other,
scratching their heads,
what's going on brother
and they yell feed your husband, stop feeding the fire!
and we just cackle,
we're a fuckin witches choir.
and we sing "sharpen your knives, sharpen your daughters
steam up the mirrors, bake us some dreams,
cook up some riots, fry up some screams,
and when you're sick of your skirts
slice open the seams
cause they want domestics,
they'll give us needle and thread
for patching their egos.
we'll sow revolution instead."
And i hear you saying
"subtle, sister,
less bite, more bark
you can make your point without leaving such a mark.
subtle, sister,
stop your seething,
i think we got it, i think we're even."
subtle like a penis pounding its target?
subtle like your hissing from across the street?
subtle like the binding on my sisters' feet?
subtle like her belly raped with his semen,
draped in his fuck, funny,
doesn't seem even.
See, sometimes anger's subtle, stocked in metaphor
full of finesse and dressed in allure
yes, sometimes anger's subtle, less rage than sad
leaking slow through spigots you didn't know you had.
and sometimes it's just
fuck you.
fuck you.
you see, and to me,
That's poetry too.
Book of Rules: A Girl's Guide to Doing What You're Told by Nomy Lamm
Part 1.
you don't get to decide what you are
what happens is, you are nothing, and then you pop out
and the doctor says "boy" or else "girl" and that's that.
for the rest of your life you are trying to be "boy" or else "girl."
if you are very lucky, you will be called a man
and you will feel like a man and everyone else will think
you are a man and you will do all the things that real
men are supposed to do and you will score lots of chicks.
then you will be on top of the world, the pinnacle of success,
a very powerful person. this is a catch-22 though,
because if you are called a man and you feel like a man
and everyone thinks you are a man and you do all the things
that real men are supposed to do, then chances are
you are a fucking asshole and i hate you.
if you are called a woman and you feel like a woman
and everyone else thinks of you as a woman and you do all the things
that real women are supposed to do, then you are probably miserable.
if, like most people, you lie somewhere in between or beyond,
then you are also probably miserable.
(tough life.)
Part 2.
The First Thing You Have to Do if You Want to Be a Woman Is Be Pretty.
this is simple.
To be pretty, all you need is to fulfill at least three of these requirements:
(a) a great tan; (b) long legs (two of them); (c) blonde; (d) perky tits;
(e) button nose; (f) smooth skin; (g) slender waist; (h) stare dumbly;
(i) you are a doll; (j) a shimmery lipgloss; (k) a can of diet coke;
(l) a short skirt; (m) be on television
okay, count your points.
don't worry if you didn't quite make it
being pretty is all in the mind.
do this exercise:
every night before you go to sleep,
look in the mirror and say
"please god, you can take away all my friends and family,
make me into a moron,
send me to hell when i die, just please,
make me as beautiful as tori spelling."
if you don't want to look like tori spelling then too bad for you
because it doesn't work any other way.
when you wake up you will be pretty.
Part 3.
your body is a whole entire beautiful magical universe
of its own, exactly right and perfect.
i know that this is not what you have been taught, but it is The Truth.
how could anything so incredible ever be denigrated,
scoffed at, invaded, discounted, spat on, violated, ridiculed?
your body is magic.
what you are thinking now is:
why was i told to look at charts, diagrams, scales
and teen magazines to tell me what is wrong with me?
why wasn't i told to trust myself?
why did they make me feel like a horrifying ugly
pathetic puking loathesome monster,
if the truth is that i am magic?
as woman, you must learn to identify as an object.
you must learn to be objectified, made ugly and disgusting,
but not in a way that is powerful or frightening to them--
you will be made ugly in a putrid, rotting way.
your soul is the first to rot.
then your heart, then your mind, then your flesh...
whatever is left is the magical part that will live forever.
this is the part of you that is eternal.
your silicone implants.
Say More by Sini Anderson
I want to run into the insane energy of love
I want to run into every wall the upper class puts up in our path
When you think you have nothing to say,
Stop and remember what you tell your friends
And when someone is trying to silence you,
Scream louder
I want to spit on sidewalks in front of men who take up way too much space
And when you're walking down the street, if you're a woman or a queer,
Take up more space
I think we should be making out more in front of people who are uncomfortable with it
And don't be afraid to be a punk-rock hippie
And don't be afraid to tell people how much you love them
If you are fortunate enough to have two working legs and a mind,
Run more
If you're not, demand that your people push you
Stop telling yourself you're dumb with nothing to say
And demand that your opinion be heard by your government
Remember that they work for us
If you're hurting, tell someone
If you can't afford your medication, demand that your state provide it for you
Remember that you're not the only one in the room right now who's panickig
And remember that health care in this country is a luxury, and that,
That is just simply wrong
Remember that you deserve clean needles if you need them
And remember that at some point in your life, you can live alive and thrive without self-medicating
I want you to run into the idea that people think you're great, and smart
And I want to be really cool to someone who's talking a bunch of smack about me
Because that, that feels better
Remember it's not okay for anyone to physically, verbally or
mentally abuse you, anyone, not your friends, anyone, not
your girlfriend...anyone.
Listen to your family when they praise you
And tell them to fuck off when they are hurting you
intentionally
Remember that art is a very, very valid form of employment
Know that we couldn't survive without it
Remember right now you're thriving, you're thriving, you are thriving.
Hey you know that sliding scale?
I don't always pay the bottom, and I'm poor.
Run to the stage when you're scared
Run to the kitchen when you're hungry
Stretch more, it feels good
When you hear someone say something fucked up to a young girl on a bus,
stick up for her
And when you hear someone say something fucked up about someone you care about,
stick up for them
Love can hurt, we'll live I swear
Know the power of positivity
And know that I really, really need you
And know that this,
This feels much, much better,
Than when I was writing it alone in my room
I want to run into the insane energy of love
I want to run into every wall
The upper class
Puts up in my path...
I want you to run into the insane energy of love
I want you to run into every wall
The upper class
Puts up...in your path...
Subtle Sister by Alix Olsen
So we've learned karate,
carry knives on our runs
wield words like weapons
prepare glares like hidden guns,
we've deconstructed, demystified
tried retribution, remythologized,
we've been diagnosed with your diseases,
and still tried pleases, tried tears, tried Jesus.
You wanna see what it's like down here
in this pool of someone else's rules, well
jump in, take a swim or just sit in this pit
squishing bare toes in someone else's bullshit,
we do it all the time.
Still we've tried being patient,
collected, calm, nice
trying praying, tried laying you
paying the price,
we've learned to scream
until our throats throbbed
what else do you do
while your cunt's being robbed.
And they say "you've made progress, girls,
take a rest in between"
but see while you're resting,
someone else is progressing,
it's what i've seen.
So i take back the whispers,
the cute mute act,
and the high-pitched giggles, yeah
i take them back,
i won't avoid your stare, evade your step,
nothing of that kind,
won't help you help me victimize
the only space that's mine.
See now i'd put my life on the line just to see them trip,
frown and say "funny love, i never saw you slip."
i say, "my life on the line--"
you say, "man, she's jaded."
i say, "maybe control's overrated."
like when we cackled, they called us witches,
now we don't giggle they call us bitches
well i'm cacklin loud, taking it back, full of hiss,
cacklin loud, cackling proud now.
And they're getting nervous with this kissing each other,
scratching their heads,
what's going on brother
and they yell feed your husband, stop feeding the fire!
and we just cackle,
we're a fuckin witches choir.
and we sing "sharpen your knives, sharpen your daughters
steam up the mirrors, bake us some dreams,
cook up some riots, fry up some screams,
and when you're sick of your skirts
slice open the seams
cause they want domestics,
they'll give us needle and thread
for patching their egos.
we'll sow revolution instead."
And i hear you saying
"subtle, sister,
less bite, more bark
you can make your point without leaving such a mark.
subtle, sister,
stop your seething,
i think we got it, i think we're even."
subtle like a penis pounding its target?
subtle like your hissing from across the street?
subtle like the binding on my sisters' feet?
subtle like her belly raped with his semen,
draped in his fuck, funny,
doesn't seem even.
See, sometimes anger's subtle, stocked in metaphor
full of finesse and dressed in allure
yes, sometimes anger's subtle, less rage than sad
leaking slow through spigots you didn't know you had.
and sometimes it's just
fuck you.
fuck you.
you see, and to me,
That's poetry too.
Book of Rules: A Girl's Guide to Doing What You're Told by Nomy Lamm
Part 1.
you don't get to decide what you are
what happens is, you are nothing, and then you pop out
and the doctor says "boy" or else "girl" and that's that.
for the rest of your life you are trying to be "boy" or else "girl."
if you are very lucky, you will be called a man
and you will feel like a man and everyone else will think
you are a man and you will do all the things that real
men are supposed to do and you will score lots of chicks.
then you will be on top of the world, the pinnacle of success,
a very powerful person. this is a catch-22 though,
because if you are called a man and you feel like a man
and everyone thinks you are a man and you do all the things
that real men are supposed to do, then chances are
you are a fucking asshole and i hate you.
if you are called a woman and you feel like a woman
and everyone else thinks of you as a woman and you do all the things
that real women are supposed to do, then you are probably miserable.
if, like most people, you lie somewhere in between or beyond,
then you are also probably miserable.
(tough life.)
Part 2.
The First Thing You Have to Do if You Want to Be a Woman Is Be Pretty.
this is simple.
To be pretty, all you need is to fulfill at least three of these requirements:
(a) a great tan; (b) long legs (two of them); (c) blonde; (d) perky tits;
(e) button nose; (f) smooth skin; (g) slender waist; (h) stare dumbly;
(i) you are a doll; (j) a shimmery lipgloss; (k) a can of diet coke;
(l) a short skirt; (m) be on television
okay, count your points.
don't worry if you didn't quite make it
being pretty is all in the mind.
do this exercise:
every night before you go to sleep,
look in the mirror and say
"please god, you can take away all my friends and family,
make me into a moron,
send me to hell when i die, just please,
make me as beautiful as tori spelling."
if you don't want to look like tori spelling then too bad for you
because it doesn't work any other way.
when you wake up you will be pretty.
Part 3.
your body is a whole entire beautiful magical universe
of its own, exactly right and perfect.
i know that this is not what you have been taught, but it is The Truth.
how could anything so incredible ever be denigrated,
scoffed at, invaded, discounted, spat on, violated, ridiculed?
your body is magic.
what you are thinking now is:
why was i told to look at charts, diagrams, scales
and teen magazines to tell me what is wrong with me?
why wasn't i told to trust myself?
why did they make me feel like a horrifying ugly
pathetic puking loathesome monster,
if the truth is that i am magic?
as woman, you must learn to identify as an object.
you must learn to be objectified, made ugly and disgusting,
but not in a way that is powerful or frightening to them--
you will be made ugly in a putrid, rotting way.
your soul is the first to rot.
then your heart, then your mind, then your flesh...
whatever is left is the magical part that will live forever.
this is the part of you that is eternal.
your silicone implants.
Say More by Sini Anderson
I want to run into the insane energy of love
I want to run into every wall the upper class puts up in our path
When you think you have nothing to say,
Stop and remember what you tell your friends
And when someone is trying to silence you,
Scream louder
I want to spit on sidewalks in front of men who take up way too much space
And when you're walking down the street, if you're a woman or a queer,
Take up more space
I think we should be making out more in front of people who are uncomfortable with it
And don't be afraid to be a punk-rock hippie
And don't be afraid to tell people how much you love them
If you are fortunate enough to have two working legs and a mind,
Run more
If you're not, demand that your people push you
Stop telling yourself you're dumb with nothing to say
And demand that your opinion be heard by your government
Remember that they work for us
If you're hurting, tell someone
If you can't afford your medication, demand that your state provide it for you
Remember that you're not the only one in the room right now who's panickig
And remember that health care in this country is a luxury, and that,
That is just simply wrong
Remember that you deserve clean needles if you need them
And remember that at some point in your life, you can live alive and thrive without self-medicating
I want you to run into the idea that people think you're great, and smart
And I want to be really cool to someone who's talking a bunch of smack about me
Because that, that feels better
Remember it's not okay for anyone to physically, verbally or
mentally abuse you, anyone, not your friends, anyone, not
your girlfriend...anyone.
Listen to your family when they praise you
And tell them to fuck off when they are hurting you
intentionally
Remember that art is a very, very valid form of employment
Know that we couldn't survive without it
Remember right now you're thriving, you're thriving, you are thriving.
Hey you know that sliding scale?
I don't always pay the bottom, and I'm poor.
Run to the stage when you're scared
Run to the kitchen when you're hungry
Stretch more, it feels good
When you hear someone say something fucked up to a young girl on a bus,
stick up for her
And when you hear someone say something fucked up about someone you care about,
stick up for them
Love can hurt, we'll live I swear
Know the power of positivity
And know that I really, really need you
And know that this,
This feels much, much better,
Than when I was writing it alone in my room
I want to run into the insane energy of love
I want to run into every wall
The upper class
Puts up in my path...
I want you to run into the insane energy of love
I want you to run into every wall
The upper class
Puts up...in your path...
bits and pieces from Word Warriors
Just a few of my favorite bits and pieces of poems from Word Warriors.
tell me you don't matter to a universe that conspired
to give you such a tongue, such rhythm
or rhythmless hips, such opposable thumbs--
give thanks or go home a waste of spark
speak or let the maker take back your throat
march or let the creator rescind your feet
dream or let your god destroy your good and fertile mind
this is your warning / this
your birthright / do not let
this universe regreat you.
--Marty McConnell from "instructions for a body"
Girl words the way girls word, the way pussies poem.
--Eve Ensler
the man's always had a plan
to slow down the velocity of a woman's journeys
to lower the volume of woman's voices
saying hush now honey be calm be still
the powers that be saying
there's an appropriate level for your grief and
there's a healthy range for your rage
and when woman exceeds
the emotional speed limit
society puts on the brakes
--Leah Harris from "revenge of the crazy wimmin"
she's wondering how many women are walking around this world
feeling the tingling of their amputated wings
remembering what it was to fly to sing
--Andrea Gibson rom "Blue Blanket"
praise the vens that river these wrists
praise the prolapsed valve in a heart
praise the scars marking a gallbladder absent
praise the rasp and rattle of functioning lungs
praise the prearthritic ache of elbows
and ankles
praise the lifeline sectioning a palm
praise the photographic pads of fingertips
praise the vulnerable dip at the base of a throat
praise the muscles surfacing on an abdomen
praise these arms that carry babies
and anthologies
praise the leg hairs that sprout
and are shaved
praise the ass that refuses to shrink
or be hidden
praise the cunt that bleeds
and accepts, bleeds
and accepts
praise the prominent ridge of nose
praise the strange convexity of ribcage
praise the single hair that insists on growing
from a right areola
praise the dent where the mole was clipped from the back
of a neck
praise these inner thighs brushing
praise these eyelashes that sometimes turn inward
praise these hips preparing to spread
into a grandmother's skirt
praise the beauty of the freckle
on the first knuckle of a left little finger
--Marty McConnell from "instructions for a body"
tell me you don't matter to a universe that conspired
to give you such a tongue, such rhythm
or rhythmless hips, such opposable thumbs--
give thanks or go home a waste of spark
speak or let the maker take back your throat
march or let the creator rescind your feet
dream or let your god destroy your good and fertile mind
this is your warning / this
your birthright / do not let
this universe regreat you.
--Marty McConnell from "instructions for a body"
Girl words the way girls word, the way pussies poem.
--Eve Ensler
the man's always had a plan
to slow down the velocity of a woman's journeys
to lower the volume of woman's voices
saying hush now honey be calm be still
the powers that be saying
there's an appropriate level for your grief and
there's a healthy range for your rage
and when woman exceeds
the emotional speed limit
society puts on the brakes
--Leah Harris from "revenge of the crazy wimmin"
she's wondering how many women are walking around this world
feeling the tingling of their amputated wings
remembering what it was to fly to sing
--Andrea Gibson rom "Blue Blanket"
praise the vens that river these wrists
praise the prolapsed valve in a heart
praise the scars marking a gallbladder absent
praise the rasp and rattle of functioning lungs
praise the prearthritic ache of elbows
and ankles
praise the lifeline sectioning a palm
praise the photographic pads of fingertips
praise the vulnerable dip at the base of a throat
praise the muscles surfacing on an abdomen
praise these arms that carry babies
and anthologies
praise the leg hairs that sprout
and are shaved
praise the ass that refuses to shrink
or be hidden
praise the cunt that bleeds
and accepts, bleeds
and accepts
praise the prominent ridge of nose
praise the strange convexity of ribcage
praise the single hair that insists on growing
from a right areola
praise the dent where the mole was clipped from the back
of a neck
praise these inner thighs brushing
praise these eyelashes that sometimes turn inward
praise these hips preparing to spread
into a grandmother's skirt
praise the beauty of the freckle
on the first knuckle of a left little finger
--Marty McConnell from "instructions for a body"
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