There was a study done where they got a man to harass a woman in the park
and then they did it the other way around.
Several stopped the man but they let the woman slap and scream
and yank his hair.
They asked a professional who concluded that compared to men,
women aren’t seen as enough to be a threat.
My friend’s principal from three years ago
took his kids and ran
because he kept showing up to work
with bruises put there weekly by his loving wife
and everyone told him to take it like a man.
Last week I listened as a guy laughed off the idea
that a woman could violate him
and I thought of an interview on a news show
where they showed a boy who flinched inwards
every time a girl touched him
because of the exact reason the guy laughed off.
When compared to men,
Women aren’t seen as a threat
so men feel free to take whatever they like.
Women aren’t seen as a threat
so no one takes men seriously
when a woman
breaks them open.
I won’t become a doctor.
One day you will be sick."
— Poem written by an 11 year old Afghan girl
This poem was recorded in a NYT magazine article about female underground poetry groups in Afghanistan. An amazing article about the ways in which women are using a traditional two line poetry form to express their resistance to male oppression, their feelings about love (considered blasphemous), and their doubts about religion.
One of the best articles I’ve read all year. Here’s the link
The band is playing somewhere, and somewhere hearts are light,
And somewhere men are laughing, and somewhere children shout;
But there is no joy in Mudville — mighty Casey has struck out."
“La matemática es un lenguaje universal” me dijo mi papá.
“Los números no conocen la discriminación” me dijo mi mamá.
I was four, getting ready for kindergarten & numbers.
They tried to warn me about my language.
tried to tell me that sooner than later,
someone would come along and tell me:
”Hablas el español como pocha” &
”You speak english with an accent”
They tried to warn me that my language would not be good enough.
At four, I was thrown into English,
a foreign language.
Teachers told me:
”Spanish, little one, it won’t get you far.
You need to learn English.
The educated speak English.”
They did whatever they could to take my native tongue from me
and back then,
I was grateful.
Grateful that they were teaching me something my parents couldn’t
Grateful that they changed the Ll to Y in Yesenia
Grateful that they were leading me into the world of English.
Now, I resent them.
Resent them for telling me my language wasn’t beautiful
for telling me that my language was shit
and for the “underdeveloped”
Ahora, ves a los gringos hablando español
and they are cultured.
cultured & bilingual.
I was bilingual.
Now, I’m a derivation of both.
See, I don’t speak Spanish.
Y tampoco hablo el inglés.
I speak a bastardization of both.
“Math is a universal language” said my dad.
“Numbers don’t know discrimination” said my mom.
more for the name
than for the color;
I buy lipstick that way, too.
In other words,
if it sounds like a poem,
I’ll take it."
jesus fucking christ
another fucking haiku
i’m sick of this shit
cherry blossoms fall
at the speed of oh my god
no one fucking cares
write some poetry
about cool shit like bar fights
you goddamn wankers
Would you kill him in his bed?
Thrust a dagger through his head?
I would not, could not, kill the King.
I could not do that evil thing.
I would not wed this girl, you see.
Now get her to a nunnery.
~ Green Eggs and Hamlet