Female

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  • Philosophy

    Female

    Her beauty moves fast through the crowded streets,
    High on her back,
    And curved to her feet.

    So intense the emotion,
    So dense the attraction,
    You are forced to subtraction.

    Strip her of her mind,
    Strip her of her heart,
    Or just strip her,
    Rip her,
    Into little Reese’s,
    Bite sized pieces,

    Reduced to the part
    You think you’d like to own,
    For a minute, an hour, a night, a week,
    So you speak,
    Out of turn, voice echoing through the crowd,
    So DAMNED loud,
    The people turn to look,

    Just because its retail,
    Don’t call me female
    I do not breed,
    You are not just a seed.

    So Turn your eyes avert your gaze,
    As we victimize our women, criminalize our men,
    He’s doing what his daddy taught,
    What his mommy always knew he would;

    Take advantage, get over,
    Manipulate, then throw her,
    To the side, under a bus,

    So just turn your eyes, avert your gaze,
    Because now you know,
    She’s no longer a toy,
    Or a robot with legs that open,
    And lips that move,
    Or a comfortable place to rest,
    As you lay your head on her breasts.

    No longer a toy
    Or a robot with legs that open.

    Watch him cry,
    Looking for a woman,
    Only seeing the packaged version;

    Just cause its retail,
    Don’t call her female,
    She does not breed
    You’re not just a seed.

    She is not a victim,
    Nor you a manipulator,
    A translator,
    Of languages unknown,
    She knows,
    Where she goes,
    And with whom.
    You’re convinced its to a path of certain doom.
    Like she’s trapped,
    Gentle tap,
    On the shoulder,
    “ Excuse me sir, it did not take convincing,
    I’m here of my own volition”

    Women watch angrily as her smile warms hearts,
    Her confidence evokes discomfort.

    No love,
    Only competition,
    No comradery,
    Only venom and criticism.

    Her beauty is not a threat to yours.
    But her beauty gives you hope, you can label her whore?

    Women we criminalize our women,
    And just cause its retail we call her female.
    We do not breed.
    And to her, he’s not just a seed.

    Look at her, feel compassion.
    Not some strange interaction,
    Between jealousy and rage,
    That she dare step on the stage,
    And appear to hold court next you!

    I do not breed, I have children.
    He’s not just a seed, he has feelings.
    But we strip him of his mind,
    Strip him, of his heart,
    And just strip him,
    Rip him,
    Into tiny little Reese’s,
    Bite sized pieces.
    Reduced to the part……
    We’d like to own.

    The lies we force,
    We chart his course,
    The women an accessory
    Meaningful exchange, “unnecessary”.
    So he’s lonely, despite the calls and the texts,
    The long nights and the empty sex,

    Now he feels like just a seed, not a father,
    And so we push him farther,
    To the side,
    He’s not just a seed, but a check.
    As long as he pays,
    He’s earned our respect.

    Now that its retail, we call her female.
    Maybe she did breed.
    And he’s just a seed.

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    When power leads man towards arrogance, poetry reminds him of his limitations. When power narrows the area of man's concern, poetry reminds him of the richness and diversity of existence. When power corrupts, poetry cleanses.

    John F. Kennedy (1917-1963) Thirty-fifth President of the USA

    TheOptimist’s Poems (4)

    Title Comments
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    never were, never there 0
    Female 1
    The Eternal Optimist 2