On modern woman
Smile, take a pretty picture,
Be the best woman you can be.
Paint your nails a scarlet red,
Stain your hair a pale blonde,
Be the best woman you can be.
Perk up those breasts,
Put razor to flesh,
Then Scrape off those old skin cells
Breed, woman, breed!
But don't you get stretch marks.
Be the best woman you can be.
Tear the hair from your vulva,
Be the first to church,
When in doubt, smile.
Steam your hair and bleach your teeth,
Don't neglect your husbands needs,
Be the best woman you can be.
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poem by H.J. Shreeve
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Father.....
Father, Listen,
Did life not turn out as you had planned?
The grass not greener, Your rivers dammed?
How was it, that you wound up here?
Moved by hate, Consumed by fear.
Father, Listen,
As I go grey, I wonder will I die this way?
A life of waste, To dwell on rage,
You won't find peace, at your old age!
Father, Listen,
I feared you as a child,
Your unkind temper, It made me wild,
I know my Mother is hard to please,
This sad existence, Now my disease.
Father, Listen,
For just once to me,
The apple, It does, Fall close to tree,
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poem by H.J. Shreeve
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Idle in June
She dares not let the world hear her speak,
She's getting thin and looking meek,
A grey hair is splitting in her widows peak
She lays idle in the month of June.
Her hands are cracked and stained from mud,
although she bathes in lathered suds
There's a little of me inside her blood
She lays idle in the month of June
She carries child at her old age,
She's stuck inside her fleshy cage,
Her father birthed her insidious rage
She lays idle in the month of June.
They locked her in a cell up high,
The crime of seeking suicide
Some women they are born only to die,
She lays idle in the month of June.
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poem by H.J. Shreeve
Added by Poetry Lover
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