she screamed into the camera
and became a voice of millions
someone called her a child of wealth
while someone called her fury fake
it all came from the mouth of an ill man
who would sit on his porch, almost at the death door
for how long should a fool ignore, the capitalism and greed?
he lost his shame when he started talking about her body
can a woman do something without being sexualized?
she sailed through the ocean to confess her anger
maybe the world needs more angry women
since a men can only talk about sex
when the floodwater rises, so does his fists
when the drought hits, his anger reaches peak
he needs someone weak to prove he is still a man
thus hiding violence under cover of crisis
Feminism an idea,
Not so new.
But its existence in society,
In reality is very few.
Everyday with evils,
She has a fight.
She does so to make,
The purpose of her life right.
For every step she takes,
She’s obliged to answer questions.
But on her reaching pinnacle of glory,
Her hard work is rarely mentioned.
“Dress too tight!”
“Lipstick too bold!”
“Her dress is so short, doesn’t she feel cold?”
Irrespective of her clothes and age,
She is sexualized.
And for harassers it takes,
Years to be penalized.
Candle march for her rights, People are going to hold.
But still for few currency notes somewhere,
Her body would be sold.
We worship her in
Several forms,
Then why, why do we,
Cage her in society’s evil norms
To celebrate her existence,
We have dedicated a day.
But her battle for equality,
Isn’t like child’s play.
Feminism an idea,
Not so new.
But its existence in society,
In reality is very few.
Does life seem to you,
as love does to we,
that virtuous circles
engage healing intent
While viscious squares
of bad-tempered stomping
marches much less gayly
toward escalating drama
with harmful trauma
and persistent
discontent
Positive engagement
does not engage negative performers
as if some lives
are divinely entitled
to redemptively matter more,
and thereby attract glowing floodlights
Upstaging those worshipping lesser
unstraight
unmale
unwhite gods
and goddesses of trust
and compassion
without boundaries
Backstage,
opening opaque
and closing vulnerable curtains
breathes diverse gender icons,
sexualized idols
Muses
recomposing noted feelings
from inside out,
hard erect warriors
embracing soft receptive catchers,
absorbent empathizers
Integrity's copassionate healers,
pulling and pushing together
1 way
with 0 means.
you can’t smile, they won’t take you seriously
placing and spacing
my wooden mannequins
to visualize two though at this
point not sexualized
these are just for the pose
the position of a her and a him
all the joints move
moving to any possabilaties
even stretching it to
create perhaps not
actual real to life kind
of body bending movements
so i have two one
being me and one being
you (disclaimer it could be
anyone) inject
or interject your
self to be a figure
but i'm posing
figures for a scene
that would mean you
need to as
the sitting
figure bent all
but almost
past your lower
back so that it seems
as if you've been
struck but to early to
tell by who knows what
in this take
Jackie stay in
your seat and don't
dive back because
your husband's head
went backwards that
makes it
seem you
should be
looking
forward
because
he looked
forward to
a country
that...
echoes
echoes
So beautiful and dangerous
The Cecilia lion of the firestorm
Setting sexualized minds ablaze
A lioness with a gentle touch
What would you do to engage with this minx
Would you kneel, pleasure her on your knees
Playing a free spirit's tune
Inhaling the scent of jasmine and sex
Laying down in her domain, her humble abode
Burning deep within, melting in ecstasy
A living flame, hot to the touch
An incarnate of luring pulchritude
Serving to ignite this burning inclination
Cecilia Lion has been glazed in torridness
She wears her erotic tendencies gracefully, sexually, and beautifully
More stunning the more I hanker for her
Her assets full and bright
Canting to hear her soughing
Lioness bears her claws
She becomes undone
Not wanting to be silent
To make love under the gold of a crimson hue, that would be wondrous
Mained and copulated by this carnivora
Beastia of the venereal tropic plains
Aggressive, to snuff out my libidinous
Succumbing to the Cecilia Lion's design
Why are you here?
Your familiar skin,
Radiating miscellaneous emptiness
Trembling wanton security
Filled with finite smiles
Infinite complexities
Why should we indulge you again?
A rejected buffet of frozen tenderness,
Aching for high horses to help you gallop
Hunger, no vacancies to reside in your malnourished smile
Wishing for a soldier-in-arms
Wishing for a human-in-arms
As you reach for your step-stool glory
Another dignified teardrop
Stolen by cacti palms
Proverbial residue streaking across glassy 3rd eye
How would our cries
Affect your tomorrow
Meaningless
Why do you return?
Did your rose tints become another concaved agenda?
5 identities, incarcerated
4 revelations, engorged
3 embellishments, glorified
2 pre-judgments, sexualized
1 memory, tainted
Yet, your leech aches for another devouring of serenity.
Hoping to feel #1 again, before expiration
Of your 90 day return policy
Another Cinderella, with a shoe that was never going to fit…
©Drake J. Eszes