United Kingdom

Taurus, 18, trying to clear the fog in my head.

Message to Readers

This is an extended version of the poem I published yesterday. Would appreciate if anyone would ;et me know if the original / extended is better, if you can.
Thank you <3

Extended: The Commodities of Un-Sung Consent

February 12, 2019



Ash still burns in the pulse of your silences
I can see the syllables and they are spasming
They told you to raise your voice
To translate your mother’s tongue
crumpling, you laid yourself down
Lapped yourself with ink
Bit at your skin, Sliced Identity in
Watched as you bled unto the pages,
Sinking behind lines buoyed by man’s
metallic promises
You tried to yell but weren’t, ‘speak up, love’, loud enough
Tried to challenge but weren’t:
            (never)       enough
And so…
You waited
Dear Anon, you are now up for deliberation
Spotty skin, flaccid gestures considered bodily amenities
marked up treaties in the excess of your hips dip
Decided you didn’t need the rest
Lacked protest, became their pitiful success,
Pirouetting n’ picking up speed, tried to 
shout when speech got lost
But through trade deals your legs became
borders wide enough to be crossed
   All in His creation
Where veins blurred boundaries
Sodium - Ruby - Rhenium veins
Rich Oil filled veins
Erect tariffs throb n’ wipe terrains upon tits
   All in His veneration
How they marched you back beneath 
your bones
Clipped protests under lips
Wove lies into plush of lung
Sold you coercion as attraction in the face 
of a buy-one-get-yourself-off transaction
How the consonants in c o n s e n t were silent
whilst the air carried the wind on that self-same tongue 
where whispers of women overlooked are sung

Now, for context rewind to
Field splays, summer days spent on horizons of adolescence 
To the beat of bodies 
as freckles leaked lines of latitude in the sun 
n’ you tried to trip them up
prevent the sprint head first into the dead end gun of themselves 
called the game before it even came
Suckled and hollowed, fed lies by corporations that, like flies,
capitalise upon
slip knives in textbook spines balanced on thighs
waivers to confirm you’ve carved most in
proceed to construct billboards
from left-over skin

and then and then and then

Reinvent them in a language they have not yet learned to speak
Remember the bodies ransacked without your knowing
Dinner time trivial pursuit becomes who was she with and where was she going?
Cos Who Dunnit doesn’t matter no more
      - emember
  (an) - ember
to catch injustices as they run off your page or slip out the place from which you hold them in
reduced to ashes to be tapped n’ brushed away
to greet sullen air with complaints rehearsed n’ sung that somehow never found their way to your tired tongue 

but this is for every “no” too slurred to be gave, for every (single) one YOU never had the courage to save.


See History
  • February 12, 2019 - 6:16pm (Now Viewing)

Login or Signup to provide a comment.