Home » Poems » I.Spit.Ink Saruhrosen » Equality At the Hands of Men

Equality At the Hands of Men

Man so mighty and wise
still has to define this
that another living being's life
has the same value as his 

Boasted, brazened
written in stone
raised above 
these highest places 
where power reigns
crushing down  
in white 
clenched fists
gripping so tightly
to "history" 
squeezing 
draining the meaning 
out of good intention

Those stones are weeping
as grass grows quietly around the edges
The future
chipping
crumbling
forgotten

Differences 
are best listed
to be used like lines in the sand
some seen on the skin
most are though beneath 
tracing 
tearing 
a cross marking
the surface
this land of the free
that the privileged paid for
from sea to sea
with the lives of lesser men
and their women 
up for "grabs"

The women
best when big breasted
beautiful and begging
feeding their daughters
dreams of a better tomorrow
when that white clenched fist 
stops squeezing her ****
before slapping 
lips against her 
drooling over her
in her ear
whispering 
something sweet 
like 
"Honey 
you're mine"

What lines of defense
Those lines lie on paper
written, signed and etched by those
elected and chosen
statesmen stating authority over your body
their dolls
their toys
smiling
serving their purpose
the good Word stenciled in stone

Equality
carved out in flesh
fresh cadavers 
swept under the rug
serving their purpose

Gravestones weeping
as grass grows quiety around the edges
The memory
chipping
crumbling
forgotten

Keeping their hands clean
they wipe their mouths red
blood on their stained sleeves
the polish from their shiny shoes sully 
the stars 
and stripes 
stripped of the value they once held 
when they stiched us all together 
and brought so many strangers home

How white clenched fists
hold power and privelege 
held so high in esteem
like our stars 
and stripes
teetering, unraveling 
the threads shaking 
as if stripped naked 
and forced to wave 
above that Capitol Hill
pivotal 
and still
unchanging
unmoved

Our Lady
liberty 
holds a tattered gown

historyhumanitypoemspoetrypoliticalfree verse

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Susan Woodrow

October 12, 2020 at 9:24 PM

wow! great write...I missed this somehow but glad I found it a few years later! :)

Richard Lamoureux

January 8, 2018 at 1:42 PM

A tremendous first offering to the soup. My wife works with young women with eating disorders. One of the triggers is a lack of self. Men and fathers play a big part in this lack of self. Here's to raising a generation of empowered women. You might enjoy my poem "Girl Rising". I enjoyed reading your work this morning.

I.Spit.Ink Saruhrosen

April 10, 2018 at 3:21 AM

Thanks so much Richard. Indeed the lack of 'self' in both men and women is a recurring issue from generation to generation, and we are all impacted; even in subtle ways that often go unnoticed. I say "Here here" to raising a generation of empowered people, women and men who seek their truth, and who cultivate authenticity, self-love and non-judgment.