Poetry

I’m sorry (not sorry)

I’m sorry (not sorry)

for thinking

for breathing

for feeling

for bleeding

 

I’m sorry (not sorry)

for taking up space

as you manspread your legs

and squash me in

corners

again and again

 

I’m sorry (not sorry)

for ugly

not pretty

for showing my bareness

my un-makedup face

my bare naked eyebrows

bare eyelids

bare lips

 

I’m sorry (not sorry)

for madness

for screaming

for hairpulling rage

against terror and despots

and war and burned children

 

I’m sorry (not sorry)

I make you uneasy

my words

pull a trigger

and pow

then they hit you

just right in the eye

 

I’m sorry (not sorry)

#metoo is a Thing

and we’re coming

we’re here

and we’re fierce

and we’re warriors

a tsunami of rage

is undamned and unleashed

no stopping no stopper

can’t put this wild genie

back into her bottle

we’re out and we’re loud

and we’re raging and screaming

 

I’m sorry (not sorry)

the fire and the terror

and the sludge of my self

is now out, is all out

uncensored

freefalling

for allkind to see

 

I’m sorry (not sorry)

not pretty

I’m not

I’m not here

as an object

to look at and coo

 

I’m sorry (not sorry)

returning

revolting

revolt

revolution

I’m love

I am power

I’m forceful

and furious, so furious

beware, oh beware

 

I’m sorry

not sorry

 

oh no

 

but you may be

 

and when you are sorry

 

I’m here

 

 ©xmab 20.i.18

 

One throw of the die

 

A black hole with a vole for a soul

Disembodied, dismembered, the

Unseen woman, whole

 

To those who are passing, making a way

For the violent rage that surpasses dismay

At the way of the world and its carnage each day

 

Drink green tea, dance at sea, be a shaman like me

Said the people who stared with disgust

At her blank lack of lust

 

For living unfree.

She just couldn’t, just wouldn’t

Not care for the bare

 

Lack of care for the naked-cheeked

Plight of the people on boats

Leaving homes, with their kids

 

Without shoes, lifejackets or crews

To be free on our shores,

Turned away from here too

 

What’s the point? she would rage

In a rant on the stage

Of her wage-less blank page

 

Perhaps words could get in

Where the burden lay bare

And the people would care

 

For more than just them

Selves and smartphones and kittens

Shared mindless on screens

 

P’rhaps words would cut through

All the bullshit fake news,

To make people think twice

 

About others, like them, who are starved and alone

To examine within and find dark deep inside

An image of whom?

 

With one throw of the die,

Those people

Are them.

© xmab 2017

***

Envy

 

She talks about envy, keeps returning to green

A jealous-like dream that’s obscene to just mention between

 

Them. It doesn’t ring true, she can’t see it, can you? But it must be writ large

On her face or why would they make such a fuss about

 

Something she’s blind to? It must, must be true.

So a new diagnosis of borderline hits,

 

The caché of the other wanes further in drifts

Is she really so flawed that her person itself

 

Is treading the line ‘tween neurosis psychosis:

Themselves are grim states, but both put together?

 

As vile as can be, a psychiatrist’s nightmare

Pitting self against self whilst gazing at navels;

 

Why me, oh poor me, no-one gets me, just me

Despite drivelling privilege, I still cannot see

 

What the point of me is. An eternal confusion

Of leaky protrusion and tears and self-pity

 

When there in the city are people left burning in

Towers clad gritty with poverty, shame and real life reality.

 

How dare she feel thus when she has a nice home

And a husband that’s loyal and fridge full of food

 

And a daughter that loves her (and in same breath hates her)

She’s had every chance for a life of success.

 

But the girl stuck inside her is holding a dress

That’s misshapen and lumpy and ugly and shameful

 

And bad and a sinner, not quite good enough

To call herself winner. She’s tired

 

And expired to be wired in this way

If a pill could now save her, she’d take it, she would

 

Just to spirit away her useless extrusions

That stick out around her and poke into eyeballs

 

Of people that see her for what she quite is:

A sad little girl with an envious bent

 

To destroying herself in an endless lament

Perhaps one day she will find a good thing inside

 

To live for and laugh for and swallow her pride.

Maybe one day, she will override her insides

 

And push out the tide that wants to just die.

Maybe one day she’ll want to just live.

© xmab 2017

***

Fear

Waking up sweating

Feet heart are pooling

Eyes die dilating

Living in fear

 

Girls with their idol

Youthly eyes gleaming

Thrill becomes terror

Living in fear

 

Boyfriend & colleague

Grandma & husband

Drink at the market

Living in fear

 

Hypocrite podium

Policing the internet

Shut down the haters

Living in fear

 

Collective felt trauma

Nation in mourning

Trying to get on with it

Living in fear

 

Stockpiling medicine

Slicing an artery

Staying indoors again

Living in fear

 

That’s what is wanted

People live frozen

Paralysed broken

Living in fear

 

Collecting our grieving

Singing the pain waves

Agony outwards

Living out fear

 

Purge all the pain out

Feel it all feel it

Feels like it kills you

Live throughout fear

 

Joke of the ether

Generational karma

Purge all the pain out

Purge all the fear

 

World is awakening

Seeing through everything

Talking & listening

Hear all the fear

 

Fear is paralysis

Purge it dislodge it

Meld us together

Unite against fear

© xmab 2017