Suffragette
Knelt like a woman braced for a race horse
to trample her, I bow my head in the kiss
of an honest prayer.
Deep in my throat like a suffragette’s tube -
tied to her life in a prison cell, fed
every man’s desire -
or chained to the cold and rusted railing
of him: use your best metaphors, girls. He
votes over my tits.
OK, we need to get this moving again... This isn't the best thing I've ever written, it was written just now in anger over something I'm getting my knickers in a twist about, how I get feedback on my writing that it doesn't focus enough on women's issues and women's things, so this is basically my defiant sulk because personally, I think I can write what I like and I shouldn't be confined to being a woman. I've rather deliberately missed the point in this one, I know.
ReplyDeleteThis took me half an hour... you've all got half an hour to finish the alphabet, right?! Writing, please, pictures, we're nearly there!
Maybe not your best you say, but I like the message - you must have been itching to get that last line in there! :) There's something of Margaret Atwood in here - and that's high praise indeed! The first stanza feels a long way away from the last one - if you wanted to come back to this, I'd say build up the middle with another verse, or work on the middle verse. Also i wonder if 'to trample her' is necessary?
ReplyDeleteGood call though that we need to finish the alphabet - come on team! :) I'm going to try and write something else this weekend - anyone up for the challenge? also, maybe we should have a letter amnesty to help us get back into the swing of things - any missed letters, feel free to come back to, though it would be good to get through these last few too.
Good luck! x
"there's something of Margaret Atwood in there"
ReplyDelete*dies happy*
:)