Google+ Followers

Monday, March 8, 2010

International Women's Day- These Hands-Red Queens of the World


Photo by Andrew MacDonald

When i wrote this poem back in 2005 my intention was to pay tribute to all the hard work that the women in my life have done in order to make me as a person, but to also speak on the lack of recognition that women get, specially in Latin America.

this has become one of my favorite pieces to perform and with today being International Women's Day (we should celebrate this on a daily basis is my opinion) and the fact that today it was reported that 25% of the households in Peru are being held by single mothers.

it seems write (like my pun?) to post this, To all the Red Queens of the world!


These Hands

These hands are an extension of me like the pen is an extension of the writer
Like the mic is the extension of the MC.

These hands have crossed borders time zones, ideologies trying to break free
as they caress the paper through the ink in found in my words.

These hands have been the focus of ridicule because of their size and texture.
Too smooth to be hands of labor.
Too small to be able to provide.
Too feminine.

Like that is suppose to be an insult,
When in fact that’s the best compliment these hands can receive.
Because to me women are the center of the world.
They make the household run and run the household
And let men think that they are in charge.

They will do anything to feed their families while men sit drinking disgust mixed with depression.
Some work after street lights come on
Others balance corporate worlds and families.
Others study, work and are mothers and husbands.
Many have the innate urge to survive that
I am glad that the women in my life have passed it down to me.

Because I never craved the taste of disgust always craved the feeling of action
And my hands are that action.
When I write
When I raise the fist
When I stop the ignorance blinding my people
Who think we are treated equal.
Who think that the white picket fences is the epicenter of acceptance.
Who think that the white picket fences is the epicenter of acceptance.

And honestly these hands have never been accepted.
And I am glad because without the rejections, the stares, the putdowns
That fueled my perseverance like it has fueled the women in my life to survive
I would not have the power and will to do this (raise the fist).

So if you want to offend my machismo
Get in line because it left me.
When I held my daughters in my hands
And realize that women are healers
They are precious, they are the center
Givers of life, whether through the womb or through indigenous myths.
Red Queens programmed to survive
To keep their seeds alive
Because a woman’s job does not end with the 9 to 5.
And if these hands still look feminine to you
All I have to say is two words
Thank you.

1 comment:

Mlvlatina said...

Beautiful, you truly have a way with the spoken word.

De nada

Monica