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Literature Text
A thigh gap
is not a landmark
on a heart map.
Scars are stories.
Freckles from
fun days in
sun rays.
Tattoos a garden
of chosen flowers
and every hair
a blade of human grass.
Great ass is not
a compliment
it’s a comment
on society socially objectifying.
it’s not the features in magazines
they airbrush up
but the little things
they photoshop off
that I love about you.
is not a landmark
on a heart map.
Scars are stories.
Freckles from
fun days in
sun rays.
Tattoos a garden
of chosen flowers
and every hair
a blade of human grass.
Great ass is not
a compliment
it’s a comment
on society socially objectifying.
it’s not the features in magazines
they airbrush up
but the little things
they photoshop off
that I love about you.
Literature
women.
we women wander where we want,
wishing whimsically while watchers wait,
weathering whims within wholly wild whereabouts,
walking.
walking.
who will wonder when we welcome whomever we wish?
who will wish we wouldn't wave wily woven-wrung wrists
wherever we want; whose will will wither
wrinkled,
wrongly?
we whistle whatever wishes will waken whosoever willfully;
we wandering women.
wells won't whittle wishes when we wring what's worthless with what was worthless.
we're worn, weathered, waning, wilting women.
when will we wash what wreckage we're wallowing within?
when will we wax windows within windows,
winnowing watercolors
Literature
Kodachrome
“Hey. That’s not the picture I wanted to take!”
Sally held the glossy, still warm from the printer, like something delivered by a deep-space probe, squinting at it critically.
“For one thing, it’s… off. The frame is wrong. Stuff got cut off.” She looked at me as if it was my fault.
“View finder, dear. It’s not going to show you exactly what the lens sees.” I held up the Leica and turned it, tapped near the small square view finder then pointed near the giant glass lens below. “See? They’re different. One you see through, the other the camera sees through.”
&ldq
Literature
women in scorn
we bought a fire pit and put your bones in it
(end to the days in which we wore
your limbs on our eyes,
on our hearts,
heavy with contempt)
and we burned you;
wrapped the wreaths around our heads
and undressed bare to dance
in exaltation of
our freedom
(a king is dead tonight
and a queen
reborn)
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Poem I wrote. Starting to sort of get into this pro-women thing. I thought of myself as anti-feminist because so much of it is just nazi anti-men bullshit about at best, "equality" and not equity. But I'm starting to realize there are things that people think is ok for a man to do, and not for a woman. Or things that people think isn't a big deal, but that really can be. There are people that have the ignorance to say things like "What's wrong with a little rape now and then". Not to mention a surprising gender-based perception clash with my boyfriend earlier this week. So I'm trying to be more active. At least as an artist.
© 2013 - 2024 Rizzan
Comments19
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reluctant to read it at first, thinking it might be fan fiction or something like that(not from the US, but i googled the title, i get the drift now.) Rading the first lines made me change my mind, i'm glad i read it, this is an excellent piece of writing. congratulations on the DLD