Poet's Note: Okay, I think I have a bit of a thing about writing poetry in a way that other people might find it hard to 'get'. I like writing slashed up verses, sticking in odd metaphors, transferred epithet, syntactic relationships, and random phrases I know from everyday life, that other people might not. I'm happy to explain anything, if people get confused or something, there's definately stuff in here that I think are quite personal to my life (such as the second line) that might be a little odd! Basically, though, this is a poem about a girl and her lover's lives, from her perspective! (Oh, and it's a little bit influenced by V for Vendetta - I'll say now that I am OBSESSED in a big way with the comics/movie).
Untitled [Number Two]
Biblical blasphemy, maybe
Baby are we on the menu?
Yes, no, don't go
Anywhere without a show, diamonds
Are forever in your eyes, but never
Sever like your mother severed links,
Like cufflinks fall from sleeves unwanted, after
All this time, not flaunted
By the parent, though your sex, your
sexuality feels haunted
Could you learn to love
Not bitter, but better
With a weight off your chest
And a friend with a letter.
Will she, won't she, want
To anything with you do once
More, and out the door. The closet
Was a haven; maybe heaven, even, but, oh -
Is the coast clear? Ghosts of longing
Whistle past the windows of your soul
Only in the past, your future bind and banded with your sister
Only; you are stranded. Could your life
Be so disbanded; but could do what only man did
When that sister hit's the sheets.
Sweet forbidden fruits, of loins
And labour. Does your neighbour
Give you favour, could you see it
In their eyes, the truth collected, but selected
Words can hurt your ears, 'those queers'
Be gone, those names that hate and harm her,
Those the only words that arm you. Beg them stop,
Protective streak will have you falling at their feet, weak
You're not, just strong for love. For her,
Forebear, no child your own to breathe this air
Of black soot loathing, so foreboding,
Not becoming on their faces;
This became of equal races: gang up not
On the dark, milk, mocha any more, but
They'll be at your door, just pounding
"You go back to where you came from!"
Us inside, hidden but won't hide,
I'll tug your breasts, ignore the scare,
Of our gender-love and flame, beware.
Poet's Note: So yeah, back to the whole 'little bit influenced by V for Vendetta' thing: I find this poem a little tiny bit futuristic (a damned nasty future!), I think. One of my favourite parts to write was about equal races getting together to fight homosexuality, because I just can't get the image of it out of my head for some reason. Obviously, I'm praying that that will never happen, but I think that if 'true' race equality ever does come around, something's got to give, because it seems that we all just have to have a scapegoat for our unhappiness, and homosexuals/bisexuals do already shoulder quite a bit of it.
So anyway, please review and tell me what you think! And feel free to ask me any questions!