I’m still struggling cme up a topic for this week so. . .I’m going to play it by ear this week. I wrote a poem O.O I haven’t written any in awhile which is why I wrote it.
The definition of feminism seems to be so incredibly ambiguous to me
Open for interpretation
Clear watered topic
Wipe board with many colored Expo markers
Used by hundreds and thousands of hands
All different pigments, sizes, ethnicities, beliefs, virtues, the boundless result of ‘etc.’
In my life, I’m not considered ‘feminine’
The brightly colored dress of ‘woman hood’ always seems to fit me lopsided
My shape and habits have been poignantly pointed at as ‘unfit’ and ‘ungraceful’
With hands that carry more creative than domestic skill
And fashion sense that resembled that of a girl who seeks a hiding place and a bit of comfort among the deafening plague of high heeled conformity
I’m not G.I Jane either
Strong, but not strong enough
Too flimsy for the title
You ask me to fix anything?
It’ll end up ten times more broken than before
I’m neither the Tom or the beauty queen
I do not resemble the strength and fertility of feminism nor the aesthetic skill
So where do I fit in this ambiguous pot of multiple definitions that seem too square, but fit ‘conveniently’ enough in that hole?
Or is ‘feminism’ merely a title more than a living entity?
Can the compassion and loving nature of a mother not be found in the heart of the father?
The bond may be slightly severed, but the heart beats just as fervent and strong
Can the strength and agility of a full armed and able bodied man not be found in the gentle body of a woman?
Despite a few areas in which the frame of body and capacity for physical stress may differ, the will power remains the same
Can the emotional stress and heartache of a mistreatment or abuse be any less gut wrenching for a woman than that of a man?
Despite your perspective: abuse is abuse, it’s non-gender specific
Can the choice of maintaining one’s outer appearance in style really focus on the female gender specifically?
21st century. . . .think about it
So maybe feminism is a metaphorical canister in which society would like to fit a group of people into
A glass bowl in which to poke at merely to see what will happen
Not to say that the gender is any less or more than the weight that is born
But seeing everything equally
See people in a more non-gender specific lens
So when I do something ‘unfeminine’
Is it really?
I guess. . .only if I choose to throw myself in that category
I’d like to think I’m an unfiled species nearly half way across from a different universe
That seems to suit my fancy
To go a bit uncategorized
And merely see myself as another human being
Trying desperately to figure out life without any social stigma attached
Would probably be cause for celebration
Society will be society
Change will come
By this time
I’ll be in a grave somewhere
Hopefully out of the country
With a smile on my face
Hey, it’ll come eventually