Us Women...

This poem is dedicated to two friends of mine, both of whom are called Sophie and are rather amazing people and brilliant feminists!



We are sensitive subjects,

Us women

Almost as sensitive

As our pretty little bodies

Our pretty little minds...

Such revolutions

Will never interest us

Oh no, we're far too innocent

To think such thoughts

The word 'politics'

Just simply isn't in our dictionary...

No, we're much too content

Sitting here, reading women's weekly

To think for ourselves...

The names 'Joan of Arc' and 'Emily Davison'

Are all new to me

We'd rather you know

'Judith Martin' now she

Really is a real woman to be...

So don't you fret, We're not

Planning our freedom

Our... liberty...

There's just simply

Too much to do

For us to care

About such petty things...

We're more than happy

To sit the hours away,

Staring out the window

And telling ourselves

Everthing will be okay..

To All The Fools...

They splash out on fast cars,
Big houses with pools,
Think they can conquer anything
Because we’re the fools.
They try to make us forget
By doping us with media
The advertisements aren’t a coincidence
They’re not there to feed ya,
No, they’re not your salvation,
Just another damnation.
And we’re happy to live this life
In front of a TV screen
Not knowing how to get up
And realise what we’re missing.
There’s alcohol, cigarettes and drugs
To make us think we’ve got a choice
But they’re just another function
To stop us from having a voice.
Free speech is compulsory
If we pay the right price
Anyone can have it
So long as their freedom will suffice
Our eyes don’t see the things
That their ears hear,
Our hearts don’t beat the way
Their brains make clear.
How can we be of any use?
When war feats a territorial motion
That keeps us thinking we’re on the right side
While the business men benefit with promotion.
It fucks up my mind
To think of how we have been bred,
Brought up to believe anything
Lies since day one, we were all spoon-fed!
And it’s not gonna get any better
Till we stop this slave labour
And make them pay all their faults
And do it in our favour.
It was never meant to be like this
We are our own identity
They never should have stopped our instincts
And put up walls of apathy.
It can’t be helped they say
Just ‘one of those things’
Well I can’t help but wonder…
That we’re the workers in this hive,
And every time we use our sting
We lose our hearts and die.

Hare on a wire

They hunt you down

Like hare on a wire

And wear a morbid crown

Made from blood spilt on fire.

They sit back in their mansions

And watch the weather change

They think they’ve done enough

When all the fruit bares strange.

Oh how they all dress accordingly

And pull-out pocket watches of gold

But underneath that waistcoat

Bares a heart grown cold.

Those men are just a handful

It’s us that are the majority

We let them poison the air

But who says they’re the legitimate authority?

It’s time we take back the earth

And all they have bestowed.

The trees and the fields

The soil and the crops already sowed.

And beneath this land are the dead

Skeletons of pure and white

We shall use their bones to build again

And hope this time, we’ll do it right.