Archive for feminism

Checking In

Posted in poetry with tags , , , , , on November 18, 2014 by Sarah aka Sarjé

I’m okay. I feel good.
We check in, and ask–
how are things going?
We resort to talking about food.

Nothing’s new, all is well.
This stuff bothered me,
No big deal though, you know?
Just another thing to sell.

Holidays are coming.
Stressful? Sure.
Just keeping on, through
everything, even if bumbling.

No, no one new, it’s hard.
Holidays can be, you say–while
happily married, another on the way.
Easy; when you’re not on-guard.

Constantly insecure, and unsure
of those around me, the
come ons, the veiled challenges.
And I can only be demure.

So I’m okay. I feel good.
Right now. Safe with you,
here, no onion layers to peel
away. Out there? Should
I?

Advertisements

The Graffiti of Aging

Posted in poetry with tags , , , , , , on June 14, 2014 by Sarah aka Sarjé

The dusty ghost of old paintings haunts the walls:

reminders that I am not the only tenant in this world.

This is the graffiti of aging–the skin of experience

has found a wrinkle and is beginning to fret, a disused

guitar that needs some strong, grey steely strands.

The spirit of youth is wily, though: a coyote I cannot

outrun; shaking spray cans and laughing. And the question

becomes–not can I catch up, or could you? But can we

choose a color suitable for both the old and for the new?

Ploy-ground

Posted in poetry with tags , , , , on June 18, 2013 by Sarah aka Sarjé

You hear music.

You hear God.

You hear static.

I hear words.

They’re petulant.

They run through my mind’s

playground, throw gravel,

skip stones, scream rainbows.

They come before meaning.

They shackle me to the page,

wait expectantly for

mac and cheese,

throw their spoons at the wall

and splatter Jackson, M. C.,

Albert, e. e., T. S., and Walt

into oblivion.

While the women–

Syvlia, Ani, Ane, Kaki,

Yoko, Lætitia, and my mother

look on and whisper:

You know this.

You knew it

all along.

Voracity: Veracity

Posted in poetry with tags , , , , on June 18, 2013 by Sarah aka Sarjé

When did I become a slice

of pizza, of pie…of life?

When did you get so voracious

that I lost myself?

When did the balance shift

from us to you?

 

When did I have to start explaining

my personhood to you?

When did I have to start explaining

womanhood to you?

When did I have to stop believing

your veracity?