THE AESTHETICS
The morning starts, bare and new,
Cold washed through the old day from you.
Water erases remnants of yesterday, new face removed.
To reveal the one handed down from a gnarled tree, the knot and groove.
Repetition, let your genes sew.
Whittled and carved, a slot for us;
Personalities picked and pried, such fuss
Stuffed into frills and bows
Tied into corsets, standing in neat rows
This was all so long ago, as if we haven't given enough.
Skin covers an anatomy that is mostly the same
A set of arms, legs, eyes, one heart away
from a pair of equal construction and conception
Grown to swing different weapons
of destruction and fit a different cliché.
Bodies like nests of possibilities, destinies
But we still act as if we live in the seventies.
We're not wax figurines, we can melt and morph
Create new outlines, transform
Become transparent and forget the aesthetics
The concept of beauty is insignificant
When you realise it is magnificent
To have a person instead of an idea
*Written for school, a poem about the social justice issue of gender roles and stereotypes.
YOU ARE READING
Hey, Girlie
Poetry"I've spent what seems like decades trying to be structured, And even longer attempting whimsicality. Now I've decided to give up, So I can focus on the words - The ones that feel nice on my tongue and Mean more than the really long ones. I don't k...
