Post by je on Jan 16, 2014 23:27:16 GMT
So there's a "Love Your Body" event on campus January 23rd, and I'm performing two poetry slams at it. I figured that I'd post both slams here. Just remember, that since they're a slam a lot of the message and presentation is lost by not having me read/perform it.
Since the event is "Love Your Body", it's supposed to have a message about self-confidence and stuff like that.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
Inside
I look in the mirror, and the first thing I’m drawn to
Are my “moobs”, how I break diet rules,
And how I “have” a bunch of “work” to do
But really, if you could just open your eyes
And make it past these thunder thighs, you might realize
That inside of this cumbersome prize,
That past all the lies of the convoluted idea of perfection
Is a boy who vies for affection for what he lacks,
Because he doesn’t have the ideal six-pack,
And the painfully obvious fact is that
He’s by no means washboard defined.
He’s barely even average.
So he’s chunky. Maybe smells a little funky,
But among these images of
Shirtless Adonises and bodies so flawless
Can you really deny the purpose of
A shirt that’s maybe two sizes too big,
Just to hide how obvious it is he doesn’t fit
This cookie cutter epitome of masculinity?
Yet there’s just this faint smidge of perceived self-esteem
That he deems all but a gleam because it seems
That within this society he’s just not good enough
He’s not tough, or buff, or rough, or up to snuff but really
If we were to say this off the cuff then he’s a really great guy
But no one wants to look inside because there’s this
Idea that on the surface, he’s not attractive, or desirable
He’s unwanted.
Who’s to say that this genuine, funny, legitimately sunny
Disposition is nothing more than an act designed
To not let you find the boy that’s in hiding,
Crying while smiling but the whole time
Pining and saving his strength because
Men, well, men aren’t supposed to cry.
He just wanders through this desolate place,
Putting on a “straight” face, because, let’s cut to the chase,
He’s been bred to conform, to what’s called the norm,
Because he’s judged for what he’s worn, or where he’s born,
And he feels so disgustingly torn between doing what he loves,
And loving what he does.
The worst part is he knows that he’s not going it
Alone, and he won’t quit even if he doesn’t fit
This idea that society has already set out for him
Because it’s not their whim, but the one within,
That he seeks to fill up to the brim
With effort and happiness and good cheer,
And yes, he might be queer, but don’t shed a tear
Because the more he comes in line with himself,
The more he learns to love.
And maybe one day he’ll choose to work out
Get rid of his slouch or let himself pout
But without a doubt, it’s all a question of how his own comfort
Answers his self-worth and deals with the hurtful
Things that this world has imposed,
On him, this desire to be like those
On shows or in prose or who the hell knows,
Because he knows that he shouldn’t respond
To anyone else’s desires except his own.
But it doesn’t matter, to this particular guy,
Because despite his size, there’s some hope in his eyes,
For he does his part which he fits just fine,
Because in his mind, he can constantly remind
Himself that he’s okay with where he is,
Who he is,
And that even if no one else does,
At the very least,
He loves himself.
- Z.A.
Since the event is "Love Your Body", it's supposed to have a message about self-confidence and stuff like that.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
Inside
I look in the mirror, and the first thing I’m drawn to
Are my “moobs”, how I break diet rules,
And how I “have” a bunch of “work” to do
But really, if you could just open your eyes
And make it past these thunder thighs, you might realize
That inside of this cumbersome prize,
That past all the lies of the convoluted idea of perfection
Is a boy who vies for affection for what he lacks,
Because he doesn’t have the ideal six-pack,
And the painfully obvious fact is that
He’s by no means washboard defined.
He’s barely even average.
So he’s chunky. Maybe smells a little funky,
But among these images of
Shirtless Adonises and bodies so flawless
Can you really deny the purpose of
A shirt that’s maybe two sizes too big,
Just to hide how obvious it is he doesn’t fit
This cookie cutter epitome of masculinity?
Yet there’s just this faint smidge of perceived self-esteem
That he deems all but a gleam because it seems
That within this society he’s just not good enough
He’s not tough, or buff, or rough, or up to snuff but really
If we were to say this off the cuff then he’s a really great guy
But no one wants to look inside because there’s this
Idea that on the surface, he’s not attractive, or desirable
He’s unwanted.
Who’s to say that this genuine, funny, legitimately sunny
Disposition is nothing more than an act designed
To not let you find the boy that’s in hiding,
Crying while smiling but the whole time
Pining and saving his strength because
Men, well, men aren’t supposed to cry.
He just wanders through this desolate place,
Putting on a “straight” face, because, let’s cut to the chase,
He’s been bred to conform, to what’s called the norm,
Because he’s judged for what he’s worn, or where he’s born,
And he feels so disgustingly torn between doing what he loves,
And loving what he does.
The worst part is he knows that he’s not going it
Alone, and he won’t quit even if he doesn’t fit
This idea that society has already set out for him
Because it’s not their whim, but the one within,
That he seeks to fill up to the brim
With effort and happiness and good cheer,
And yes, he might be queer, but don’t shed a tear
Because the more he comes in line with himself,
The more he learns to love.
And maybe one day he’ll choose to work out
Get rid of his slouch or let himself pout
But without a doubt, it’s all a question of how his own comfort
Answers his self-worth and deals with the hurtful
Things that this world has imposed,
On him, this desire to be like those
On shows or in prose or who the hell knows,
Because he knows that he shouldn’t respond
To anyone else’s desires except his own.
But it doesn’t matter, to this particular guy,
Because despite his size, there’s some hope in his eyes,
For he does his part which he fits just fine,
Because in his mind, he can constantly remind
Himself that he’s okay with where he is,
Who he is,
And that even if no one else does,
At the very least,
He loves himself.
- Z.A.