I see in artworks
Painted strokes
And marble sculpture,
Pliant bodies, nubile virginity;
Searching fingers pressing -
Squeezing, searching
The pliant flesh
With aggressive male virility.
Scenes of agony and fear
Bring fresh pain so near;
The memories and thoughts
Still tumble, fresh like shame,
Upon my canvas.
Was I ever art, or just another
Nubile plaything?
A feast for greedy eyes,
That hunger and lust
For beauty without love,
Or the gentility of respect.
When I see these arts
Magnificent as they are,
I cannot smile
Or gaze in awe,
For I feel raped over again -
That burning shame still raw -
As my poor foremothers
Have felt before.
-
Author:
SerenWise (
Offline) - Published: June 8th, 2020 20:35
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 54
- Users favorite of this poem: Fay Slimm.
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Comments6
Really good - I feel the emotion very strongly!
without going into too much detail.. it feels to me, as a poet, you have come of age...
Todays poem 'The Art of Giving a F*ck is without doubt your finest to date... at least it is in my book..
Neville
without going into too much detail.. it feels to me, as a poet, you have come of age...
Todays poem 'The Art of Giving a F*ck is without doubt your finest to date... at least it is in my book..
Neville
This emotive write touches the core of age-old abuse - - seen from male ego the female has ever been " a feast for greedy eyes" and nothing more -- applause for this outing of unsmiling shame that art still displays the female's raw deal.
Thanks for the posting Seren and Into my favourites for sure.
Your writing has always held weight seren
This was particularly strong
Maybe even allowing us a little glimpse at yourself
Or, just rich man's erotica - give them a break, there was no internet tnen... 🙂
Dave
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