Stirred Poetry ran a Sex Week workshop on Tuesday 3rd March, with the topics of masturbation, menstruation, orgasm and generally sex!
To begin with the plan was to rip up and collage a copy of 50 shades of bullshit. Unfortunately there was no copy to hand, so we went back to the original awfulness and tore up Twilight instead. We pulled words from the collages which pretty much sums up the whole plot:
Found twilight poem: Hi Bella. Impressed. Pleasant. Passionately. Fiercely. Ignored. Confused. Protected. Guarded.
There you go, three volumes (or is it five?) condensed to ten words.
We discussed stereotypes around sex initially, the general perception that sex is first and foremost ‘a man’s thing’, that it’s still taboo, you don’t talk to your parents about it, that when women start openly talking about sex they are told they are slutty, and the feeling that the sex act itself revolves around a man’s climax, and that the woman is vessel to this and her body is the prop to this main event, that women are expected to be passive sexually. We had a look at some of our culture’s history of talking about sex, ie not talking about it, lesbians non-existent, etc.
We started with a group poem exercise themed on menstruation, looking at Lucille Clifton’s poems. I’ll share one of the group poems here now:
My tampon a ticking time bomb
The fuse hanging out of myself
My mind always on if I’m leaking
Do I want to cry or snap?
Or climb or swim or run?
Stuffed with cotton, and smooth as an alligator
Primal instincts overrun, primal instincts too far gone
Always. Have a happy period. Fuck off.
I don’t love anything right now.
Except that man’s aftershave who just walked past…
And the stretch of my legs
Under my cunt, pulling and unleashing the cord of my womb
She is so strong, she is so powerful, my cunt craves,
I can do this, only three more days.
‘The heavenly experience doesn’t have to be that heavenly, who brought religion into it anyway?’
‘The vessel of noise of pleasure, pounding throughout your body’
‘I take myself out of this body, every imperfection made perfect by your touch’
We did three automatic or free writing exercises using starting lines borrowed from Sharon Olds, Anne Sexton, and we ended on an angry exercise responding to the old line ‘Close your eyes and think of England’, people wrote some great pieces! Thanks to all who came. There’s more workshops coming up, one on Stirred: Shout at Kim by the Sea, 6pm-8pm, Wednesday 18th March. Anna Percy is also leading one as part of Creative Cafe tomorrow, see details on flyer.
I dread your arrival each month
Like a time bomb, uncertain as to when it will come
Your arrival always unexpected, and always welcome!
Here you are, like a bear with jam stained jaws
Biting at my womb, tearing me up from the inside
Like a wolf ripping up its prey
No amount of Cadbury’s can ease this
Am I hungry or horny…or both simultaneously?
Fuck me hard while I stuff my face with melon
Fresh as rainwater in my mouth
Caress me slowly, be gentle down there
I’m as turbulent as a crashing sea
Just waiting for the last wave to crash.