Both Sides

I walk the halls, wanting the sadness
Willing my despondence to linger
My fingers trace the painted drywall
And stop, of all things, on the mirror
My eyes refocus on this hollow shell of a woman
I am disheveled, I am alone.
What is it about this life that makes you decide?
Mere ambiguity has no place, only time
The face in the mirror is indeed mine
But the voice she uses, a mask
And her lone task is to make it through one more day
Without her mask slipping, giving herself away
She can trace the creases that the mask has made
Battle scars from the wounds she'll never let fade
Because to do so would require exposure
And she's already spent years as an unwilling soldier
Her mother told her don't let nothing or nobody make
you get older
Cause it's soon enough that your ashes get colder
So why do I let the mask put lines on my face?
To perpetuate the lie that life is nothing but great?
What a sad state of affairs
Closed doors, no one's there
Locked up, no one's aware
Now my spirit has fallen into disrepair
Too scared to admit the truth to anyone
They say we're living in a new millenium
So what am I running from?
I'm fleeing from the goddamn mirror
Afraid what I'll see if it looked a bit clearer.

American Dream

I write to escape the pain
Though I'm supposed to be living in the game,
I'm drowning in it all the same
And since I got a good job that's payin
I feel ashamed
I'm supposed to be middle class, higher ranking
Instead, I'm fallin behind on my banking
Havin to get on a payment plan for any bill
higher than a Franklin.
The economy, they tell us, is tankin'
And while I sit here ranklin', another bill comes
due and another two are late
It's past the date for a national conversation on
class that doesn't involve hate
Your neighbors drive Cadillacs, but inside, they wait
For payday to come three days away
They say everything's OK, while the Visa bill stays
at nine thousand, ten thousand dollars
Never answer the phone, the bank's the caller
And your house is the last shred of hope you have that
links you to the fictionalized dream world they call
"middle class."
It ain't the haves and the have-nots
It's the "think they haves" and "don't gots"
Nobody's poor as long as we can still go to the store
and get a bit more so our kids' tummies
are not sore,
What are we kidding ourselves for?
So we smoke and we drink so we don't have to think
about how close we are to the brink
And we sink further, believe the conservative furor
that we could only make it if we pull ourselves up by the straps
of our boots.
That's uncouth, and they're playing us fast and loose
Here's the truth: our wages aren't enough
To get us through the month without having to sell some stuff
And my life isn't supposed to be that tough!
Put off paying for the air and heat comin out my vents
A dollar bill found on the street could be heaven sent.
Sometimes I can't take it.
Even Clark Kent had to be Superman just to make it.

Too Hippie 4 U

I eat organically.
When I tell that to people, they look at me
Like a hippie, a yuppie,
a treehugger, a "green."
And all these labels are supposed to be mean
But I wear them proudly
And I'll say it loudly
I eat organically.
You go to Aldi so you can buy food for cheap
But remember that you are what you eat
So don't wonder why your kids are obese.
Buy em fruits and veggies every week
That are grown at a farm near you
Or at least without using much fuel
Or grown without getting sprayed by chemicals and pesticides
When you eat, they enter your body, cause your cells to die
It's not theoretical, these so-called incredible edibles
Are marketed and sold like it's all copacetical
But we should know better than to fall for these fakes
They're slicing up cows so fast they're getting
feces in the steaks
It's make it or break, the agribusiness gettin
fat off the false profits
The false prophets say, "eat up"
Their disgusting, cheaply-made stuff.

Once A Month

The t-shirt reads plainly, "I bleed black and gold."
Well, I bleed crimson once a month, but
you won't see me advertise it.
Yes, I just talked about my goddamn period,
not like you ever knew what that was like, so
unless you were a woman in a former life
I suggest you keep your lips tight.
OK, so maybe I do advertise it,
no shirt necessary,
And no shoes are needed either, but if required
they will measure once inch off the ground, and no higher
and always be comfort inspired.
If I have to drag my feet around in some
four-inch, plastic teeny-weenies like a
hooker looking to do something to your
four-inch, teeny-weenie wrapped in plastic,
I will not be pleased.
You want to take me out to a fancy dinner?
Fine. I'm wearing this.
No, I will not dig out that little black thing,
and it is a dress, not a skirt.
How do guys not get that?
They can figure out how to check the transmission
fluid in their car,
and occasionally figure out how to rev my engine
but they can't comprehend -- "if it starts at
the waist, it's a skirt" --?
These sweatpants do not have stains or holes
and if it makes you feel better, I'll put on a bra.
There. I'm ready.
What do you mean, you don't feel like going out?
And now you're just gonna sit there and pout?
Look dude, after you're done with the pity party
and you're all cried out,
I'm still gonna be hungry.
So why don't you go boil some water for a box of
macaroni and cheese?
By the time it's done, I bet you'll feel better
But I'm still gonna be like this awhile.
I'd yell at the tampons, but they don't make me smile.
And as far as punching bags go,
you know how to take the hits in style.

He Got Nothing

I guess I caught u staring
Checkin out my body, and what I'm wearing
But I'm not no bar slut
And I won't be bearin
My breasts or my soul to you tonight.
I guess now you're confused, instead of stoked
Wondering why I won't just giggle at your
lame ass jokes
It's cause the only time I giggle
is after a smoke
Don't think either that all I cam for is your meat
Cuz I can get myself off any damn day of the week
So have a seat
And boy, listen to the beat
Cause the only reason you and I have cause to meet
Is so I can dance
Here's a new one for ya to learn: it's called
Santa's Reindeer in Reverse
I'm Vixen, you're a Prancer, then we're Dancer,
and I'm Dasher
I'll break it down better
I'm hot, you're not, trying to pop and lock,
and you're dropped.

Lather, Rinse, Repeat

Lather, rinse, repeat.
Get punched in the face as I rise to my feet
Another near defeat
But this time, no maker to meet
Cause I won't assume the role of the weak
Not again.
On the strong woman scale, I am not a ten
But I will stand up if I fall down again
And you'll be stunned then, cuz u remember when
Not so long ago, I was at a disadvantage
Little, young and naive, at least from your vantage point
I was always gettin smoked like a rancid joint
If we were solving mysteries, I'd be scared shitless
and saying "Zoinks!"
But let me get back to the point:
That's not me anymore.
As I got older and smarter, I learned how to settle my own scores,
How to open my own doors
That would take me where I want to go, and keep
me on track
So get outta my van, I've got no more Scooby Snacks
What I do have is confidence to keep me intact.
And if you're thinking things must be out of whack
You thought I was still this, when really I'm that
I'll tell you I'm consistent like as a shampoo pack
And so Suave, in fact,
That "lather, rinse, repeat" is written on my back
Cuz I've scrubbed myself clean
of the anger and agression
Trained my mind to stay out of depression
Clear thinking plus knowledge becomes Pertinent
For confidence to become certain, you have to feel power
Pull back the curtain, it's time for another shower.
The Essence of me isn't Herbal, it's organic
I've gone back to my roots, remembered the soil,
forgot the panic
Never again will I blame the whole planet,
or cower and hide
Like Selsen Blue, I brush all you flakes aside
and remember true confidence can be found
even in disguise
That's why I always look you in the eye
As time flies, I will fall down one more time
than I rise
But don't be surprised when I refuse to be beat
Cuz my motto's like Suave: "Lather, rinse, repeat."

Work

Nobody explains the difference
between achievement and persistence
to you when you're young.
Yet everyone's dumbfounded
when we grow up and are astounded
that our dreams don't just roll off the tongue.
We weren't taught to appreciate what we've got
Or if we did, we forgot
Do you know how much work it takes to
produce that diamond?
First they find it, then mine it
then ship it to the manufacturer
Who spends the time to coax the glitter out
of lumpy coal
And yet, all you do is go down to the store.
Do we even remember hard work?
Long days? Uncertain futures?
The only uncertainty now is what we'll spend our
next paycheck on
The realities of life are gone
Lost, to a past that never appealed to our
short-attention-span, Veruca-Salt generation.
And this gap isn't confined to just our nation
It envelops the concentration, or lack thereof,
on a scale of globalization
We're not perched on a precipice
We dove right in
And it's no longer a matter of whether you can
sink or swim
It's whether or not you can come out ahead
of her, or him
By any and all means necessary
Shove the others underwater, show no mercy,
no compassion
While you use them to float
Maybe it's a crime of passion
But the passionate have built a better boat
And they're working their way out of these
tributaries of selfishness and greed
Filled with those wanting so badly to achieve
That they've forgotten the best way to succeed
Is to let your hard work take the lead.
And they scream as those who built themselves a better way
Sail on to uncertain, yet hopeful, futures.

Mean Women Poets

You poor, disenfranchised men
Thinking you're gettin pushed around by
all these women
Thinking all this male hating, man bashing
shit is brand new
Well I got news for you
The women of old must have been new, too.

MLK Day

The people say why.
Why is there an entire day to idolize
And I just roll my eyes
Because there's nothing wrong with an entire day to glamorize
A man much larger than his size
A man who never tried to victimize
Or tell his people lies
And still, they ask, why.

I'm not trying to sound contrived or
unscrupulous
But there's only a select few of us
who got their own holidays in the U.S.
And one of those was Columbus
and I don't see you making nearly as big of a fuss
Cause the post office is closed for the man
Who mistakenly stumbled upon this land
Then, over the centuries, caused it to crumble
As his people rumbled with the native people
Who couldn't even mumble a word in protest.
Yet Columbus has his own day of rest?

Then consider all the holidays we got
Commemorating the veterans and the
wars they fought
And the holidays commemorating generals like
Washington
So why exclude the one who led the march on
Washington?
Fighting a brutal, bloody and centuries-long war
While half the people didn't know what he was
fighting for
And was gunned down before knowing the score
One day off of school?
Martin Luther King, Jr., deserves all that,
and more.

There U Go Again

There u go again, giving me the puppy-dog eyes
There u go again, telling me u apologize
And there I go, believing your lies
Thinking this time, you'll try and be better
And whether or not you will has been answered time after
time after time: You won't.
So don't think by now I'm oblivious
Your tired old game is far from mysterious
You'll go to the bar, get drunk, drive home and try to
start some shit
But I hate to verbally spar with someone who's barely
aware of it
I'd rather u think out your points rationally, and
rational means sober
So move the fuck over, I'm tired of waiting for u to
get older
I've heard all your excuses, and you still need to
grow up
Tell me when you sober up that you'll quit.
I've heard that shit too many times
There u go again, biding your time
Until I start believing you've miraculously stopped on a dime
And my trust in you is restored
That's when I hear that key scraping the door
What will it be tonight? I think. Less, or more?
There I go again, thinking you've changed.
Thinking you're just being strange, instead of
exactly the same.
In the morning, you say, "I'm sorry. Don't cry."
There we go again, and I don't know why.