I had these folded up in my pocket and announced to the audience that they should please wait to stone me until after I had read both pieces. Where do I even come up with these self-immolating declarations?
1.
You seem so practiced at this
And I know you won’t regret me
But baby, respect me
Such smooth words, a quick tongue
But a cold body, hard heart
Incapable of a passionate embrace or the warm intertwining of fingers I offer you,
I clasp your hands in mine but your fingers are stiff, unmovable
Mechanically incapable of the subtle and quiet affection I dole out ceaselessly.
How did you even come to meet me?
Oh, now I recall
Furtive glances cast across a dance floor
Stolen peeks from across the way
“You’re sexy,” you tell me, so much later
“When will you shake your ass again for me?”
But there’s been a misunderstanding
Those moves, those motions and convulsions
Were not meant for yours or any other male eyes
But were an expulsion of the joy and life and passion
From my soul for me and ONLY for me
Don’t misunderstand, I know you never lied
But I’ve had boys and I need a man
Someone who will try
One who is unafraid to admit he needs me
With love and devotion that flows so easily
From a well of self-knowledge and respect
Not to be mean to me,
Not to make a queen of me
But to treat me EQUALLY
If you don’t have the time for me then treat me kindly
Don’t call me over in the middle of the night
Only to give me the cold shoulder come day light
Just a few more words and then I’ll be done
I was looking for understanding
Not “for fun”
Yes, I need labels,
I like to know where I stand
But don’t tell me what you can’t do,
Tell me what you can
So save your cheap fine flattery
I choose to live my life passionately
And after every time I see you it becomes clearer to me
Is it really worth it?
Nah, I don’t think he’s for me.
2.
20 years after Ms. Magazine
My mother teaches me about solidarity AND independence
I learn “We Shall Overcome” AND “I am Woman, Hear Me Roar”
She does not shelter me and tells me
This country of ours has had many wars but we still fight for equality
At 8 years old I count MLK and Elizabeth Cady Stanton as role models
By 11 I’m sure I can call myself a feminist and yet
It’s not too cool to be obsessed with civil rights
Called “commie” by the class and ugly so many times by the boys
Who secretly feared my intelligence and headstrong will
But they don’t know that I come from short, strong Spanish fisherwomen
Who run the whole village while the men are at sea
Or grandmothers who survived the depression and still refuse to live wastefully
So I’ve had to learn not to argue but debate gracefully
Not to scream and cry as when I was younger and peers verbally smacked me
Whatever respect they lack for me
I’ve come to handle it tactfully
I’m still recovering from the insults they hurled at me many years ago
Still reconciling the idealistic girl who thought she’d be leading a revolution by now
with the me who can’t muster the courage to walk up to a stranger and start a conversation
But every time I take a step forward,
Every time I push and ignore the boom pound of fear inside of me
Every time I refuse to shut up when I have something to say
I have to count my blessings
For those who came before
Who were beaten, killed and raped for nothing more
And remember that this too is why we must fight
So that in the future leaders and thinkers who speak
Are not stolen into the night
Men and women become “desaparecidos”
Their messages forgotten
Remembered only as ghosts
In pictures held in rallies in lands below the border
Victims of tactics more destructive than bombs and mortars
So at your own discretion let these people’s actions be a lesson
Threatened by their governments, lives in danger
They take to the streets and march alongside strangers
They will be the change that needs to be made
And refuse to wait to be saved
But their ranks are not only in Caracas, Cordoba and Sao Paulo
They march in D.C., Chicago and Indianapolis, too
So next time you hear about a rally
And you’re sitting on your couch dreaming about January, 20, 2008
Remember all the people who have lived and died for the right to assemble and take to the streets
That’s what they would want for me and you
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