Tag: feminist

The M Word

Published on by Sarah Drury5 Comments

CAUTION: EXPLICIT LANGUAGE AND SEXUAL CONTENT

Man sits with his
hand down his pants
Masturbating sir?
Fiddling with your bits?
And that is acceptable

Woman sits with her
hand down her pants
Masturbating madam?
Playing with your clit?
And that is NOT acceptable

He’s
Spanking the Monkey
Jerking the Gherkin
Beating his meat
Waxing the carrot
Tugging the slug
Burping the worm
Playing pocket pinball
Pulling the Pope
He’s wanking
He’s wanking
He’s wanking

And guess what?

WOMEN MASTURBATE

We’re
Auditioning the finger puppets
Fanning the fur
Buttering our muffin
Diddling Miss Daisy
Playing the piano
Petting the bunny
Flicking the bean
Smacking the pony
She’s wanking
She’s wanking
She’s wanking
(but ‘nicely’)

And why do all the
female wanking
euphemisms
Sound so goddam acceptable
So goddam wholesome
So goddam
NICE!

Do we have to be
beautified and stereotyped
even in masturbation?

Is it because it sounds
gentler falling upon
women’s ears?

Or less offensive
Screaming in the ears
of the men?

©2020 Sarah Drury

Less of a Woman

Published on by Sarah DruryLeave a comment

I can’t cook
And if I could
I wouldn’t

Does that make me
less of a woman?

I can’t knit
fancy outfits for
newborn babies
I can’t shit
rainbows like
magical unicorns

I can’t follow the
make up tutorials
on YouTube
I don’t shave
my precious pussy

Does that make me
less of a woman?

I can’t teeter around
in heels
I don’t squeeze myself
into sexist ideals

I can’t think
cos I’m psychotic
I can’t scream
cos my mouth is
silenced with the
adjectives of misogyny

Does that make me
less of a woman?

I can’t bear child
cos I’m ‘too old’
I can’t menstruate
cos I’m ‘too old’

I can’t wear bikinis
cos I’m ‘too old’
I can’t masturbate
cos I’m ‘too old’

Does that make me
less of a woman?

I can do what I want
when I fucking want
I can fuck who I want
when I fucking want
I can be who I want
when I fucking want

Does that make me
less of a woman?

©2020 Sarah Drury

Hairless

Published on by Sarah DruryLeave a comment

These lockdown times! I bet by the end of it, half of us will look like we never set foot in a hairdressers or beauty salon in our lives. My razor sits untouched on the sink, it’s been there for weeks. But you know, I just don’t care. Being stuck within four walls, with limited social contact, I haven’t felt the need to be primping and preening every day. It makes me think, jus who are we doing it for? Us? Are we shamed into believing that we are not ‘normal’ if we don’t render ourselves hairless? Or not beautiful? Do we live our lives constantly feeding into media hype on the standards of beauty? Are we afraid of ridicule and rejection?

A poem:

Hairless

The razor sits there
On the sink
Looking forlorn
Day after day
Like a predator
of feminine power
reborn

Lockdown lethargy
Won’t be seeing a lover
Can always cover
my stubble
But why the fuck
should I?
I don’t need self isolation
to prove myself
to another

Smooth armpits
Smooth legs
Smooth fannies
Smooth chins
Smooth moustaches
Red lips
Killer false eyelashes
Supermarket dashes
for razors
and baby lotion

That razor’s been
sitting there a
very long time
Since I was a girl
and the magazines
said I would be pretty
if I was hairless
Look at me now
My fanny’s a big hairy mess
my cheese grater legs
don’t give a fuck
I don’t care
I don’t want to caress
anyone who cares less
of me
because I won’t dress
my body
in false aspirations

Who feels the need
for pretty?
Is it me?
Do I look in that mirror
and see
a monster
created by the media
fuelled by misogyny
I’m not a fucking fairy
on a Christmas tree

So, fuck you, razor
Fuck you!

©2020 Sarah Drury