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[spinsterauntie]

Gothic Ingénue

 

I loathe the meek,

gothic maiden….

Beautifully adorned in propriety

without the sense to preserve it.

Blinded by her purity, she merrily

enables her own downfall.

Does twilight’s brooding unsettle our heroine?

Why do evening’s silhouettes creep along the trail,

their touch (blending / smudging) light and dark together?

Why does the night-fall slither after her?

When did solitude leach away her serenity?

Why does the familiar grove now veil its favor from her?

And, does the path lengthen?

When did she wander upon this ruined cemetery?

Why does the moon craft illusions that scare her?

Was that a girl darting behind a gravestone? Or her wraith

left to lurk (in the hereafter / for eternity)?!

Are those crickets who whisper about our heroine?

Or the child-wraith’s giggle?!

Does night’s mist lap her ankles?

Does a demon desire a lick?

Did darkness spawn a shriek?

Is the ghost-child singing a lullaby?

Does this spooky symphony swell

as midnight weaves a trick on our heroine?

Is she clutched within a nightmare?

Does a real threat relish her doom?

Or, are these details fashioned by her (swoon / slumbering mind)?

Did a skeletal hand grasp her skirts?

Does that perched raven mock her?

When did her fright coerce her to stray the path?

Does the hero or rogue rescue our heroine?

Where is her savior hiding?

She may get lost

she will run towards danger

she will faint….. in time.

She will be seduced by a

handsome rogue-- the villain

who ultimately defiles her.

She is a shamefully inept

paragon of womanhood.

[spinsterauntie]

I Voted Today

Today was for you, such a little thing, this 0.50₵ of a piece of paper.   Its bold colors, state “I Voted Today”   What were my reasons for voting today? Because I could,   because I can, and so must do so. For too long our voice went unheard, but no longer.   We will not waste this, when our fight had been so hard. We will walk, drive, bike, or bus to the polls and fill in each little circle with the import necessary, because I Can, and should.   Each sticker placed upon your grave is another signature towards equality. They are not 400,000 in total, not yet but we keep collecting. With each sticker placed upon your grave another woman took hold of her right, one you so valiantly fought for.   Another individual with a voice because of you And strong women like you. To step up to your headstone, to place that little inconspicuous tag above your name, is grabbing hold of our power and Refusing to let go.   I am screaming-  “I will have my say!”   And so, each sticker is a memento from each future woman who remembers our connection, our Worth because you said it was so.

“Forget conventionalisms; forget what the world thinks of you stepping out of your place; think your best thoughts, speak your best words, work your best works, looking to your own conscience for approval.” ― Susan B. Anthony

[spinsterauntie]

We have to use our voice, our platform and our own influence to protect those unable. Help protect students looking to gain their chance at higher education!

ICE made a decision to order all international students whose universities are online to leave the country or risk facing immigration consequences and getting deported which essentially means that students will have to decide between leaving the US or risk their health. many countries don’t even have their borders open and some people may not even have places to go so please sign this petition which requests that international students get the option to finish their degrees and remain in the USA

[spinsterauntie]

Face Mask Debate?

Why does a clump of cells "with a heartbeat"

warrant more rights and protecting

than the well-being of the diabetic

across your street?

Where do you see such a strong divide

between taking the rights of a mother's choice

and enforcing public protection with masks,

when one can be so much more catastrophic

than the other?

Groups and numbers are in peril

but you resist the risk to "freedom"

while stealing these same rights

from other women.

Who guides you in these empty beliefs

where one weighs upon a mortal soul,

but the other is done in the name of

faith and secular rights?

I hope the voice that leads your selfish,

self- righteous points of opinion speaks louder

in your sleep than the thousands of humans

who shuffle weakly through my hospital's doors

each day.

As for me--

I have worked for those in need during our crisis,

I act in purpose for those most fragile

within my society, and I am proud

of those around me and mine

who see the social needs that outweigh the vanity

of others, and reach for hope and triumph

when those most need it!

And for you--

with every "uninhibited" breath taken

at the risk of the lives around you,

is your sleep unburdened?

Are your dreams free of

the prayers of your fellow human,

without any guilt that follows you,

while you fail our communal crisis?

As you steal a piece of our hope,

taking back some of our triumph.

Each and Every Day you force

your freedoms in our faces.

[spinsterauntie]

Loans. Grants. Degrees.

Pedigrees of increase that whisper of promises.

Thousands of hours, of money

which offer a glimpse into bigger;

better, a necessary evil

of sacrifice and hardships.

Lives unlived, static with hopes of next to come.

Work and sweat and blood and employment

an unending cycle of years- four at least, more is often enough.

Then- the end in sight.

Congratulations,

confetti and commencents.

Hats are flying, crowds are cheering

and the promises peer at you from around corners.

Shadows flicker with hopes.

But then tomorrow becomes the shell of those promises.

Economies fall, a virus hunts out population

leaving behind vast debt and panic.

Jobs become empty, bare minimum is the word of the day.

And with those behavior changes go the hoped for personal development and contentment.

Left to remember what was once possible while settling for is.

[spinsterauntie]

Social Media's Exposé

No longer

will your 'stress'

protect you

from your hateful rants.

No one

believes your false apologies

conveniently filmed

in your moment of public scorn.

No worth

is attached

to your victim card,

laying claims to false martyrdom.

Your Hateful words come

from hateful thoughts

sown in purpose.

Your Hateful intentions do not

mysteriously arise

within your breast

on a single, isolated moment in your life.

Your depth of ugliness has been exposed

and your integrity now in question.

[spinsterauntie]

[spinsterauntie]

Trapped

The blunt metal cut into her wrists as the officer guided her into the cinder block building.  Every wall glared a bright yellow at her as she skulked into the building.  A pressure on her wrists told her to stop at the desk where a heavy woman sat behind a plywood desk.  She glanced at the woman before again allowing her eyes to sink to the toes of her shoes.  The two officers discussed her offense as if she wasn’t there to overhear the conversation, before the male officer led her to a small cinder block cell.  This one with more ugly mustard yellow walls calling out that you would spend your time suffocating within the bright, yet bleak surroundings.

              She was commanded to turn around, and the sharp metal pressure was released from her wrists.  Even as she began to enjoy the release, the single, solid, metal portal slammed shut and all contact with the world was shut off.

              Looking around, the metal toilet next to the single cot gleamed in stark contrast to the walls as if to point out…I don’t belong in this room.  A short distance from the toilet to the bed highlighted the cramped situation of her surroundings.  As the lock turned in the door, the air seemed to escape the room in one whoosh.  Her breathing sped up and the air didn’t feel that it held enough oxygen.  Every breath stole a little more of the limited gases from the room.  Her lungs filled with warm air and the need for cooler, fresher air began to overwhelm not just her lungs, but also her mind.  Each inhalation required a reminder from her rational mind that she was still breathing, and her lungs were in fact getting the necessary oxygen to survive.  Weak, but attempting to control her panic, she collapsed on the cot while repeating a mantra “I am breathing, I am fine, I will not suffocate in here.”  Each breath seemed to bring her just a bit closer to losing consciousness, yet each inhale did still serve its purpose.

              Restless she got up, hoping to find a door to the outside to relieve her fear.  Looking out the tiny plastic window in the portal, she saw nothing but further reaching yellow walls.  It all seemed to close in on her, the walls in her cell the walls outside her cell, grew closer and closer to closing in on her completely.  She kept her mantra going in order to stave off her hysteria, “I am breathing, I am fine, I will not suffocate in here.”  The stagnant air circulated as she returned to the cot.  The distress within her built until she feared she would attack the metal portal, the only obstacle to the fresh air outside.

              A hard stare at the metal door, with the defined drive to have it open occupied her mind and did seem to settle her panic a bit, when suddenly a heavy metal clang had the door opening.  The officer on the other side seemed almost to bring in her first full breath of air she had had in hours and with that whoosh of relief she was almost ready to confess to anything....until she matched those hostile eyes hidden behind the uniform of blue.  No.  No should would not be submitting today, or ever again.

* dedicated to my fellow protesters (a.k.a “legal detainees”) left to languish by the New York City Department without the ability to see a judge within 24 hours of detainment.  Stay strong, we fight for your voice!

https://www.nydailynews.com/new-york/manhattan/ny-manhattan-judge-denies-writ-protestors-custody-20200604-cj67y2xoxjgrhk4es7vbyxkhcm-story.html

[spinsterauntie]

Me and My Fellow Protestors

A momentary thought

I wish to twine within your mind

your thoughts hazed by your riot gear

waiting a chance to lash out.

We are not expendable,

nor are we pawns in your agendas.

We are your neighbors,

your child's teachers.

I am the worker from the local hospital,

had helped your mother just last year.

He is the brother, the son, the friend

living just around your corner.

Each time you raise your fist in violence,

remember each and every one

because we are not just shadows of a social injustice---

we are your community.

[spinsterauntie]

Celebrating with My Enemy

On this day exactly, one year ago, I walked into the doctor’s office,

and there I got the news- my labs and my pictures had all come back clear.  

No more would I have to wear the bandannas or wigs to mask my baldness,

no more chemical injections and the sickness they cause.  Gone is the humility

of them taking a part of my womanhood, the beauty in my curves feels lopsided.    

But today, for one year, my labs remain free and clear, your black root that grew within my body

is still gone, and I know the pleasure of a disease-free woman.  

I don’t miss you, old friend-no, not my friend for sure; but my enemy.

Now when friends ask me, “And, how are you feeling?”  

I can tell them I am free, free of my breast but also free of my cancer!