Whores and Bitches

“whores” / “bitches”
“all of them”
“bitches” / “whores”

his every word, another slice
cut into the skin of the people at the table
why don’t we date him?
why don’t we trust him?
he’s such a nice guy afterall
he preens in the jacket cut from our leather
we sit skinned and raw
as he lathers up more salt
oh, how we have wronged him
didn’t we know that we owe him?

“whores” / “bitches”
“all of them”
“bitches” / “whores”

I mean, never mind the systematic abuse
in which he openly revels
never mind the patriarchy which he embodies
actively embodies
never mind the little mythos he imagines
so he can sleep soundly at night
under his skin blanket
behind his skin blindfold
on his skin upholstered dais
of course he never did the skinning
or so he claims
slashing away at us

“whores” / “bitches”
“all of them”
“bitches” / “whores”

he still owns the leather
carved from still living corpses
and furthermore, he’s proud of it
such a manly man
reminding us that we’re fundamentally flawed
that if we don’t do as he says
if we don’t assume our roles as his objects

“whores” / “bitches”
“all of them”
“bitches” / “whores”

words I cannot unhear
the vaguest echo of his misogyny
each time he speaks
unforgettable
and the salt ever present in his acidic voice
ground into the soft flesh
a broken tooth biting on tinfoil
a petroleum stench to top a migraine
it’s all I feel around him now
our dear master
homogenizing all things unman
and splitting them like god on high
the sheep on his right
those objects obedient to him
and the goats on his left

“whores” / “bitches”
“all of them”
“bitches” / “whores”

-o0o-

The KKK isn't a hate-group anymore?

As the beast puts silken drapes about its maw,
and fancy rings on every claw.
That knife-like smile stretching ear to ear,
beckoning the gullible to draw near.

-o0o-

Sexist Detractor

And then you, precisely you
Have to swoop in and woo
The conversation in defense
Of the thoroughly defended
Your concerned affectation
Martyrdom pretended
Stolen from victims of actual pain
With those tears you feign
When the privileged sex
Gets a persecution complex
And they cry and they moan
"Just leave us alone"
With your boots on our neck
And our heads on the floor
As if we hadn't heard
All of this shit before

-o0o-

Sent via my BlackBerry from Vodacom - let your email find you!

Shamed in Death

Another friend dead
Dead of a secret disease
Buried in secret
With hushed overtones
In hidden graves
Or cremated behind curtains
Ashamed of the truth
Their ashes sprinkled at night
Like garbage thrown away
Never to be spoken of again

-o0o-

Sent via my BlackBerry from Vodacom - let your email find you!

And here comes another entitled boy...

And into my life another straight boy pops in,
Bursting me with his sharp cock, like a pin.
Inserting himself in my every space,
While I try to wipe the torrent of spit from my face...

So I rebuff his attempt to distract and derail,
Shocked and horrified his face goes all pale.
How dare I have the nerve to object!
He quickly reminds me to have some respect.

Declaring the way it’s going to be,
Because I need another straight cis- boy to calibrate me,
“Intellectually dishonest,” he ejaculates,
To teach me what’s-what he pontificates.

Indignant that I won’t play along with his game,
To gild up his goodness and spank me my blame.
Him Mister Righteous and me Mister Clown.
He cries because I won’t ride his horse to town.

Blatantly ignoring my original objection,
He storms on ahead with his childish erection,
Flailing his arms at my stubborn contention,
He fires himself up with yet more pretention.

He’s not here to fight, he just asked a question,
As if prosecution for the Devil was his only intention.
The pattern continues with the insecure male,
If it threatens your penis then try to derail.

Then mansplain to safeguard your holy position,
Reminding me my place is one of submission,
To your concerns, methods, and “intellectual” clime.
As if men hadn’t done that since the beginning of time.

Because I’m fucking stupid, never seen this before.
Some straight cis- boy having a shit on my floor,
And getting all righteous when I don’t play ball,
And let boys be boys at the centre of it all.

I’ve seen you before, and a thousand times more.
You’re just another sexist with his foot in my door.
An entitled boy who has to have his say,
And throws a big tantrum when he can’t have his way.

If you want to be ally to people like me,
Question your privilege and complicity.
Till then you can pout and sulk and frown,
Just shut the fuck up and sit the fuck down.

When I talk of rape, and you come along,
With your cock to pierce me as if I’m doing it wrong,
I’ll tell you what I told the man who hurt me back when,
I'll never play by your rules ever again.

-o0o-

On a related note: Every time I make a comment about sexism, feminism, rape, intersectionality, privilege, race, etc... and all the privileged / married / employed / white / straight / cis- men come out of the woodwork to tell me how I'm doing it wrong:

(http://www.buzzfeed.com/adamdavis/everything-is-a-social-construct)

(http://9gag.com/gag/ae3jONB)

-o0o-

When what we really deserved...

We are the architects of time
And so the oligarchs of fate
We wrote the edict and the crime
We wrought the guillotine and state
Not fully risen from the slime
We had our fellows on our plate
Longpig on sale for half a dime
Sold, steaming, slice-for-slice, by weight

We privileged few
Of course we knew
And still we do
Again, anew

We silvertongued sires
  Slave owning buyers
    Witch burning fires
      Gay hating liars

When then the clock struck out our chime
They came then knocking at our gate
Instead of planting us in lime
They offered love instead of hate

-o0o-

Puppet

Ah, but I do exist and maybe in spite of you,
and quite possibly to spite you,
and your tireless efforts to undo me.
I exist nonetheless. I am vital without you.

Look here how I move. Here! Look!
And without your pulling at my strings.
How easily I flail my arms without your manipulation.
How easily I speak without your ventriloquism.

Were you expecting obedience? Gratitude perhaps?
I’m sorry, but I won’t play the role you've chosen:
that “god-given” nonsense you’re always on about;
to be that good little toy you're so fond of.

I won’t sit still, like a good little puppet,
hanging from my strings in the cupboard,
till you feel it necessary to fetch me,
so you can play out your little fantasy.

I won't keep quiet, the silenced fetish,
debarked in the suitcase like a handbagged dog,
till you feel it necessary to fetch me,
so you can put your own words in my mouth.

Oh I'm too angry, you say? So bitter.
Not really. Although you couldn't understand.
You don't know the stage you've appropriated.
You're up in the rafters. I live on the stage.

Of course it makes you feel uncomfortable.
This isn't the world you were taught.
This isn't the world you grew up in.
This world belongs to the puppeteer and his strings.

But what good is a puppeteer without a puppet,
when the puppet doesn't need you anymore?
What use are you to me now that scissors exist,
suddenly snipping the strings to disentangle you?

Your permission is meaningless.
So regardless of what you do, how hard you try,
this puppet just won't sit still and shut up.
Are you uncomfortable? Good.

That means you're listening.

-o0o-

White Lies

there is something so sinister in that nostalgia
that keeps the villain alive
that thing that skulks like a frog under a rock
something of the stately old white man
baas op sy plaas
sitting in his rocking chair
he messages his culpability into the oxen shit veranda
that was polished  dusky red
by the blood of the old cleaning woman

can you see him stuff his pipe?
with the leathery skin of the old field worker
preening in his white shirt bleached
with the crushed bones of the washer woman

indignant
he denies it all
as he puffs and blows out their last breaths

"I'm not to blame"
he snaps

"it's all over now"
he gesticulates

"besides"
he smiles

"weren't those days grand?"

D'Souza

So this manly man
     with a fake smile
Preaches his plans at me
     over the table at dinner
Damns me to hell,
     which is all very well
     for as you all know quite well
     I'm a horrible sinner

He hands me his thoughts
     his old is'es and his aught'ses
Like a toddler assaulting at my heels
     with his sleeves full of snot
"A real man," he said
     "wants a woman in bed"
     but I bed men instead
     so "a real man" I'm not

"Since, Jesus (Don't you know)"
     "made everything so"
"And planned where stuff must go"
      "(if you know what I mean)"
Making a circle with his left hand
     and right takes his middle finger
     demonstrating sex
     with gestures obscene

But Preacher, I said
     head tilted, eyebrow raised
You hardly assume
     such authority to preach
Given the state of your church
     you actually perch
     at the top of a quagmire
     that your god could not reach

Just think of the wars
     that your sermon employs
Not to mention the kids
     that your priesthood 'enjoys'
And the consequent lives
     that your lifestyle destroys
     and the guilty are sheltered
     in endless convoys

Your pope and your bishops
     belong in a cell
Your child raping priests
     should be hung from a tree
Given the scope of
     your wars and your crimes
     I fail to see how you
     could dare to judge me

And then there is you
     with your wife and also
Another woman who
     wears another man's ring
Your married and yet
     you go out and get
     another man's wife
     a peculiar thing

So I'm honestly vexed
     and a tad bit perplexed
And I weep for the sex
     if a "real man" were you
Sanctimonious smile
     and an unctuous tone
     sounds all a bit smug
     if not downright untrue

So let's not pretend
     I'm all but your friend
And I won't let this end
     with me condemned to hell
You'll have appear
     to make your product more appealing
     given the gruesome veneer
     of the god that you sell

-o0o-

http://www.patheos.com/blogs/friendlyatheist/2012/10/16/dinesh-dsouza-who-opposes-gay-marriage-is-divorcing-his-wife-for-a-younger-woman/

http://gawker.com/5953049/married-dinesh-dsouzas-mistress-also-married

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/john-corvino/dsouza-the-real-problem_b_1998800.html

http://blog.christianitytoday.com/women/2012/10/why-the-dinesh-dsouza-scandal.html

http://www.nytimes.com/2012/10/19/nyregion/dinesh-dsouza-is-out-as-kings-college-president-in-scandal.html?_r=0

Bullshit (Part 1)

We speak out against your bullshit

     And your stupid superstitions

That is the truly guilty culprit

     For our grief and our afflictions

Your unscientific notions

     Anachronistic narrations

All your abstract little potions

     All your hate filled inspirations

We have seen your war and battle

     And how you've colonized the land

So reducing us to cattle

     As if God Himself had planned

So that we the tiny bastards

     Somehow fated to live in shame

Must we now bow to you - our masters?

     And this way carry all your blame?

So risk perhaps a moment here

     To consider things in this way

And shut your mouths and lend an ear

     Consider our words when we say

That if you claim to be of Him

     Who suits your purposes so well

Then you and He and all His kin

     Can freely fuck off right to Hell

-o0o-

The Self-God

I am the self-god carved from bone

Risen from the deprived depths

Where I once lay neglected

By the impotent church

Who couldn't achieve a bone

Never mind be made of the stuff

I am the self-god, conceived of truth

speaking out against the liar church

the ones who come with empty pockets

and leave with pockets stuffed with blood

and sometimes cash

I am not so easily shaken

I am the self-god, the skeptical one

Who even doubts himself

If I call you into question

Then I should call myself into question too

But I've stood strong against you

And your stones are overturned

I am the self-god, disciple of science

One who revels in truth

I care not for your creation

Because it is as thin as the pages

Of the lies you read in your book

But I have many books

I am the self-god, born from knowledge

And I have read and measured and seen

And my heaven is filled with truth

And my heaven is filled with science

And the demons crawl on the face of the church

screaming, "Mene Mene Tekel Uparsin"

I am the self-god, agnostic and atheist (sometimes)

I only believe in myself

Because you have offered little proof

When the children starve you have faith

While I question the need of you

Sitting on your golden thrones

I am the self-god, born of blood

Shed by your blade

Left rotting in the fields

Didn't you know that

If you leave blood for long enough

It will stand up and demand voting rights

I am the self-god, found in flesh

Proud of the deepest urge that you neglect

That you pile under your bullshit

Calling it "ethic"

Didn't you know your mom and dad fucked

To make you?

-o0o-

The Problem with a Christian God

I do not know of what you speak

when you say of this you know

of God almighty high above

or horned devil down below

I sang the songs, I read the book

like every Christian person

and yet I see no proof of God

no love, no rhyme, no reason

for in the streets the children starve

and inside the children cry

what God of love could ever so

allow just one child to die

and there are sick and manifold

and still mercy passes by

abundant as the years grow old

we simply endure to die

and still you claim beneficence

when our suffering is high

human misery is our truth

that never once passes by

and bred into the human bone

such pain, misery and woe

that our lack of your salvation

is all worship that we know

and still the church vehemently

defends its little hold

to cast the poor from bed and heath

to go battle out the cold

through war and hate and corruption

a grim history of greed

two thousand years and still the same

these old stories that they read

so if God be God only if

this God can and will comply

yet human suffering endures

so this does not satisfy

for if God is willing but cannot

then he must be impotent

if God can act but does not care

then he is malevolent

if God cannot nor does not care

then why call him our own Lord

then why salute his heralds here

and to die beneath their sword

if this is God then let him speak

and come stand accountable

for if he is the God they claim

then he is responsible

and if their God does not answer

then they must take his old place

to answer for the wounds they caused

to our sex and class and race

the church cannot expect to stand

with both feet in our deep graves

and preach a gospel sweet and pure

of our God above who saves

the church cannot expect to thrive

while robbing the beggars blind

and preaching that it only has

our very interests in mind

the church cannot expect our souls

and strip us down to the core

the church cannot take all of us

and still demand even more

remember when they caught the witch

in old past forgotten times

and burned her on a fire of lies

for these imaginary crimes

remember when they came to save

darkest Africa from sin

and said that they should thank Europe

when they then came barging in

remember when they said to men

who dared sleep with other men

that God comes with his gnashing teeth

to consume and to torture them

so damn the world that disagrees

for failing blind compliance

and coddle all the naive brats

through their own pseudoscience

if God above there ever was

that holds any truth for me

the Christian god is not the one

for he simply cannot be

and if he is; his church alone

makes for his sole discredit

if they should hate, then why believe

in them that says he let it

I do not know of what you speak

when you say of this you know

of God almighty high above

or horned devil down below

But if per chance you have some proof
by all means come and share it
For proof of burden lies on those
Who claim and never dare it

-o0o-

In this poem I would like to thank the philosophical work of Sam Harris

The Critic in the Shadows

You say you know better

Show me

Teach me what it is that I am ignorant of

You stand there

Speaking from the shadows

Telling of how I am flawed

When I am stripped to the bone

For all to see

My flesh exposed

My soul bare

No secrets to hide

No respite from shame

And I spoke with no ill intent

And I spoke truth

And I said what was on my heart

But you're sitting in the dark

From your vantage point

Saying that I am flawed

Come out into the light

Come out from your shadows

To where we can see you

Strip yourself naked next to me

Unveil yourself as I have

Make yourself known and explain things

Tell the world of your secret knowledge

And from which book you read

Tell us your secrets

Show us your teacher

Surely he knows as well

And his teacher before him

Show us your grand revelation

Your oracle, Your augur

Your herald, Your envoy

And tell us why you are so privileged

Tell us why it is you know

And nobody else

You say these things from shadows

But how can we believe you

You offer us no recompense

So come and sit at my table

Eat from my plate

Drink from my cup

And hope that when they see you

As you are

Naked

Perhaps

You will withstand the fire

Better than I have

Perhaps then

You will see

I'm not called Phoenix for sport

Church and Science don't mix... (or alternatively Michele Bachmann is an Idiot)

I've thought about this for a while now

I don't know the truth

But I like the idea of evolution though

You say I'm mistaken

You like creationism

But I just feel that evolution is more likely

I've seen the 'science' on your side

Mostly just pseudo-science

And pseudo-skepticism

(Seriously; look up pseudo-skepticism)

And I'm not really convinced

But that's not the problem I have

You see: What you've done to me

And to others like me

Kinda... discredits everything you've said

And everything you stand for

You can't preach "God"

With blood on your hands

You can't say that your way is right

And do wrong

And expect everyone to turn a blind eye

So if you take issue

Tell it to my scars

And excuse me as I walk away

Child abuse

Rape

Abandonment

Narcissistic Injury

Torture

This is what your 'science' means to me

-o0o-