Society takes her tea with a pinch of blood, tears and unnecessary hurt. She sits in my kitchen expecting libations squeezed from flesh and spirit her goons label unworthy—too fat, too different, not tall enough, too old, too woke, too human, too unlike her hand-twisted puppets.
ugly is manmade,
the filthiest of constructs,
a poison that rots
Society’s tea cup is overflowing with teeth and broken expectations. My kicking boot is scuffed.
the wee notes…
– This is not the first poem I wrote for this year’s Dark Poetry for the Cruellest Month. When I first thought of the topic, I intended to Protest and be Outraged about healthcare and similar issues. I even wrote the poems (I’ll share them, eventually). But yesterday, someone close to my heart told me that she felt fat, and uncomfortable with her looks. She is a beautiful woman and a brilliant soul… Her pain leaves me wanting to kick society’s ideas of beauty in the freaking jaw.
– Linked to Poets United ~ Poetry Pantry, 350.
This is a closeup of a painting by Shelle Kennedy;
to see the original piece, in full color, visit Shelle’s blog.