once, they said we could have it all –
the partner, the career, the children
we could be superwomen all day long
immaculate, capable, professional
the mother, the lover, the corporate boss
all superlatively and effortlessly achieved
the house, the car, the long-haul holidays
yes, once, they said, we could have it all
and then, and then
we were vilified for wanting a career, and
for wanting to leave our babies at nurseries, and
for making someone else prepare the dinner, and
we were penalised at work, we were penalised at home
whatever we did – we were wrong
the back-slapping testosterone board-room, boar-boorish doors were closed
the mothers at the school-gates-club
raised their collective eyebrows at parents’ evenings
as the strange apparition of the ‘career woman’ made her appearance
and then, and then
the childless, the husband(or wife)less
were dragged through the biting, back-biting, tight-lippedness
un-natural, bitch-in-the-boardroom, frigid, husk treatment
damned if you do what they want
damned if you don’t
damned every which way but young, blond, legs-up-to-here and easy to please
we are our own worst enemies, and
we listen too much to the media, and
to the politicians (who listen too much to the media)
we listen too much to our inner bitch voice
you know the one, the friend who nobody wants
can we turn her off?
only if we work harder than was ever expected
of the mother-lover-corporate boss –
only if.
It’s that time of the month, the last Saturday, where us poets can leave whatever type of poetry we like at the dVerse bar – yes, it’s Open Link Night! Tonight, Mary is our congenial barkeep – her first time on OLN, so be kind, don’t wave money in her face to get her attention or reel off a long list of drinks. All in good time!
This piece of mine was something I was working on for submission to an anthology, but I decided to go with something else instead which was more fitting. I only half-finished this poem, so this has been buffed up a bit and chopped around. As is common with my work right now, it’s a little political! I obviously have issues I need to get off my chest.
Please pop over to dVerse to see what varigated delights await you. No two poems will be the same, that’s for sure. Happy reading, all.
Here’s my latest entry into the dVerse Form for All – why not take a look at everyone else’s wonderful responses?
This piece was inspired by my journey home from work this evening – after a particularly long and tiring day at work. I literally squeezed every ounce out of what was left of my mental energy today to produce this rondeau – the first that I have ever knowingly written! I hope you enjoy it.
*****
– Destination –
As the train rolls along the tracks Its rhythm soothes, bids us relax Our aching souls, our weary minds That chew on cares enough to bind Our beating hearts, encased in wax.
With no real love, spirits contract Hands of friendship are pulled back Metal-clad world, we are confined As the train rolls
Sinking bodies, fall, collapse On threadbare seats, like formless sacks Smiling in sleep, we bring to mind Our joys and hopes, bright pleasures find The tunnel’s end brings light, perhaps As the train rolls
