Friday, October 30, 2009

Of Women (This Is My Poetry)

This fancy new Blogger text-editor lets me copy+paste my poems as they appear on the page. It's fucking nifty as all hell, and so I thought I'd share a new piece that I'm still working on. It's supposed to be an assignment for my Independent Studies class, but I doubt it'll impress my professors.

This piece is one of ten that I'm compiling into a short collection, entitled, "Of Women". (Although, I'm thinking I might add a catchier subtitle, since they're all the rage these days.) As you'll be able to tell, the piece is highly misogynistic, chauvinistic, and otherwise angry, sad bastard poetry. Many of the pieces in this small series detail similar perspectives, which derive from my own experiences dealing with women. I like to think of them as so-called "Masculist Poetry", as opposed to your typical Sapphoesque, feminist poetry from Anne Sexton or Sylvia Plath, writing about their fathers and husbands and botched suicide attempts. No, instead I'm writing about heartbreak and love sickness and ruinous affection as it applied to over/under-sexed post-teen male college students.

Hope ya'll enjoy it!

[jump to continue - click header]

Beauty Skin Deeper

I don't want a beautiful woman. They aren't good
looking like you'd expect from someone with such bright eyes;
soft hair, soft skin, just the cover for a shallow grave
hiding behind a pretty face.

The pain comes from their unexpected
reflection in the mirror
Dorian Gray, with makeup box
for diseased rot painting.

The painted ladies are all decaying —
just can't see it in those layer-piled-layers
of eye-shadow/mascara/rouge/blush/powder/lipstick.

I don't want a beautiful woman. They cut through
callous, thick-skinned, steeled hearts
like butter & spread them
over their skin to walk outside,
lotion of my life glistening in the day.

She be a sunburn beautiful.

Hurts to touch, hurts to hold, Hurts to love what isn't real.
(Which is to say, she isn't real.)
Mirage in the desert, or three-dee illusion
projection of physical beauty
but in reality

the nothing that grabs you two-fisted
beat, break, strangle
seems terribly real, seems horribly    alive
Venus flytrap that can kiss before it bites
a rose that hides its thorns deep in the blossom

I don't want a beautiful woman. They kill me
"Oh, I'm sorry! I totally forgot I had another date tonight.
I knew you'd understand.
You're such a nice guy!"
Purple bruises and shallow cuts
"I really like you, but my life is so crazy right now. 
Can we just be friends?"
Broken bones and torn-twisted muscles
"I'm just not feeling it. And you gotta feel it, right?"
Gun shots and stab wounds

I don't want a beautiful woman. They leave
without even noticing the pain they caused
and the dead body on the floor.

5 footnotes:

Anonymous said...

more images,
less cliche,
and a less haphazard structure,
i'd say.

FunkyStarkitty50 said...

It is interesting hearing the male perspective from a subject that women have written about for years. Plus you mentioned Plath and Sexton, some of my favorite writers--so you get bonus points just for doing that;-)

Zek J Evets said...

@anon: the cliches are intentional, to show the stereotypes the speaker encounters. the images are skin, hair, muscles, bone, cuts, bruises, painted ladies, makeup, roses, venus flytraps. the haphazard structure is part of my style, to convey a sense of a wandering mind, since the speaker is speaking the poem as if for the first time.

but thanks for the advice.

@funky: haha, i'm pretty sure men have been writing about this for as long (or longer than) as women. e.e. cummings and edgar allen poe come to mind.

i feel kinda bad though, because i mentioned your favorites in a negative light... sorry?

Anonymous said...

cliche meaning an image or sentiment so overused as to become meaningless:

cut through like butter,
rose with thorns,
bright eyes.

and your images need development; precision.

just an informed opinion. poetry takes a lot of practice.

Zek J Evets said...

@anon: okay, that's fair. the rose with thorns, the cut through like butter, but i will defend the bright eyes, because that is an original image of mine, and is part of my poetic language. to get rid of it would be bad editing. however, the other two i might improve. still, i feel that cliche is okay when it's genuine. not everyone picks the same words because they can't think of any others.

the precision is not supposed to exist however. this is not a specific guy, or even a specific girl. they're both ideals, both characters. the point is that they bleed into each other, into the reader, so that the whole poem becomes very fluid.

your opinions are appreciated; poetry DOES take a lot of practice. my book took two years, and it's only a measly 80 pages.