A few more processing poems
About womanhood and the current times
I hope you enjoyed last week’s poems. Here are a couple more!
Mythos
When men wrote the folk and fairy tales
They only knew a select group of women;
The angsty, vocal witches,
And ugly, angry bitches,
And pale, docile princesses.
And in their desire to keep their power
They offer the princesses protection;
From the witches' poison,
Or bitches frustration,
Not from men’s exploitation.
Silence is the trait they value most
So they spun their cautionary tales
Of wolf and dragon slaughter
Pitting mothers against daughters,
And girls were guarded in a tower.
But should the princess dare to become a queen
She must be taught to see the threat
In youth and naivety
Or cradles sitting empty
Instead of patriarchy.
So come, my darlings, we must be queens
Building up the realms' communities
Witches in a coven
Blend up a potion
Of sisterly devotion.
All voices will be heard at the table we spread
And in this place, the men are welcome
To participate
Not dominate
Or humiliate.
We all will be protectors of the young, the weak, the joyous,
filled with bright hope and deep peace.
Providers of nourishment,
Prophets of encouragement,
Priests of discernment.Original poem by Caitlin Mallery
Gated
Carefully manicured gardens, groomed
and perfumed to gleaming perfection
Chosen ones selected, then isolated
From fault and failure
Guardians pressed into Secret Service, surround
And survey for strays and runaways
Their compatriots of the computer artfully
Filter through lens and layer
Production for pomp and circumstance, plentifully
Display the gap between the classes
The protection that the billions buy
From contact and compassion
Flashing bulbs of paparazzi, invading privacy
And preventing any form of integration
Between the mediocre failsons, whose philosophy
Is mine is mine and yours is mine
And the precariously positioned poor, fearful,
Feeling desperate and deeply envious
Entrenched in a battle for attention
Seek sympathy or salvation.
Yet cross-contamination is not considered, policies
Are instead protecting the palaces
Of illicit pleasure, moral compasses
Are glutenous guts.
No true north star of empathy shines, horizons
Of humanity are too humiliating
For the mind to comprehend
As worth or wealth.
A blockade of blindness, an impasse
Of pride, setting all on a hopeless course
Till you find the community holds
Your grief with grace.
Ungated, ungaurded, spacious enough
To hold your doubt, bright enough
To forgive your folly, caring enough
For mercy and justice.
Original poem by Caitlin Mallery