Day 30: Ladies

 It is actually the final day, and I’ve been pressing all the poetry out of me like jam out of a cake…or something. Over similed myself. These last pieces all need some reworking, so forgive me the bits that feel rough. In these last few poems it has been very woman based, I think reading The Crimson Petal and the White has set me off down feminist lines a bit. I actually stole a bit of the book to write this poem, the part when the prostitute strips her hands of her gloves in public, a totally unlady-like thing to do. But I precipitate myself….




A lady wouldn’t remove her gloves

In public, her naked fingers move inside the cloth

All touch trapped there, made soft


Gasping, fainting women

I’ve inherited your smiles

I’ve inherited your ideals, they were taught

From posters from films from papers

From school, from history, from books

I’ve learnt your poses, from music videos

From pin ups, from strippers, from soft porn

From hard core porn, from actresses and singers


A lady doesn’t display her ankles, petticoats must cover

Every inch down to her heels, she has no such things as thighs

Beneath her dress.


I’ve been taught your looks,

From magazines, from adverts,

From billboards, fromAmerica,

From my peers, with my sister,

From dresses, from underwear

From Ann Summers, from Moulin Rouge,

From France, fromAustralia


A lady doesn’t know about sex, and blushes

If you vaguely reference her legs, she doesn’t know

About prostitutes, STI’s, or education beyond dance class.


I’ve been stretched to fit your cut out

In gym, in belly dancing,

In pole dancing, in bed, in my head,

In my shoe size, in my life,

On Page three, on television

In Britain’s Got Talent and in the X factor


A lady learns how to be a housewife,

The head of a household which includes a maid

To stitch her into her corset of a day.


I’ve had bulimia anorexia self harm been raped

Abused by family members watched

The weight disorder of my mother balloon

Seen men explore jungles and women casually

Copied being a man to be someone I wanted to be


You know I’ve heard,

Ladies don’t exist anymore.


The Stirred quad is formed of Rebecca Audra Smith, Anna Percy, Jasmine Chatfield and Lenni Sanders.

Posted in NAPOWRIMO Becca, Poetry Scrawls
One comment on “Day 30: Ladies
  1. […] to do with airbrushing in L’Oreal’s ads. This happened last year as well, check out my last entries for napowrimo last year and it’s all about women and corsets, I don’t […]

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The Stirred team at Reclaim the Night Manchester 2015
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