That Type of Girl Deserves It

That Type of Girl Deserves It.

Constance, don’t walk, run over to read this article.  It powerfully exposes the fundamentally misogynist and sexist thought assumed as a basis of how to think regarding the pirating and theft of nude images from various celebrities.

I post this because when it initially hit the news, my baby and I talked about it, and I am ashamed to confess were both somewhat phlegmatic over the issue.  Our position, without a scintilla of deeper reflection, was that if you didn’t want naked pictures of yourself appearing anywhere, don’t take naked pictures of yourself.


Well, how embarrassed do I feel now about that unwitting and assumed participation in the current paradigm of thought?

I was wrong…we were wrong.  That is like saying if someone gets naked in their bedroom then they deserve to get raped when they go in public.  After all, if they don’t want to be raped, just don’t get naked.

The author makes these points in a clear minded and powerfully worded way.  I was moved especially by the ways I am just discovering these currents and assumptions and bonds on my own behaviour.  I feel these things, and am not sure what they are!  I sense them, and find myself modifying my actions without even knowing why…

…and most of all, it was exactly like how I felt when this man I interacted with othered me so blatantly and with such assumed privilege and sense of owning my body and my life because he was firmly ensconced in patriarchal thinking and the pinnacle of power in that system:  Male, White, Christian.

Content alert:  the link goes to a website that occasionally has articles that use profanity and vulgar vernacular.  While I am not easily offended, I would not post such things on my own blog, for reasons that it would take the blog away from my vision and purpose of Gracenotes…so I want to warn about that.

Okay…now go check out the article.  It is pretty thought provoking, for us all.


The Sound of The Name of Your Kiss

last night
i heard your kiss calling me.
in the night it sang,
flutes forlorn in fog, i think,
in mist it sang of
how your heart has missed me.

i think
i’m the only one who knows
the name of your true kiss.
it’s on my salty lips and in my utterance
it takes wing in song and then flies past me.

i breathed
out of my heart, into my throat,
your kiss’s secret song.
on my tongue it sat and pushed
with pepper palms, it tapped
its fudgy fingers on my teeth
in code to thus release me.

your kiss
it scratched my lips until they bled
in love, stained permanent in song
and joyous sound of your kiss’s name,
Joan of Arc of Hearts,
in the precious fading night and morning mist.

in dreams
you’d struggled soundlessly
to speak, to sing, and waking here
you gift wrapped me in wandering hands
and kisses, beautifully, tongue tied
and heaving against traces, time and reins
to lay against me.

last night
this morning
and always I can hear
the sound of the name of your kiss


If you don’t tick like I tick you’re a heretic!

Yes, there is…an intentionality in how my latest poem Of Women and Wolves follows the post Never Again.

It is like being around a hungry wolf…when you are in an encounter that feels like it will devour who you are, what you are, if you are not careful…and if you are careful.

The only way to appease a wolf is to feed it, and that is to diminish yourself or others…

And no…the man I talked to is not a “wolf” in the biblical sense of a deceiver who is seeking to destroy other people for the sake of his own gain.

No…he is more the garden variety religious person who has found meaning and purpose both in the search for those specific thoughts and those specific actions that “please God”…and then being “diligent” to make sure that others whom they define as part of “the body of Christ” are “taught” those same thoughts and do those same deeds…and if they don’t, if they think different thoughts based on the bible, and are led by Lady Grace to different actions expressing their understanding, then they must “correct the deviant” (and it is for their own good, only, of course).

It is the old saw “If you don’t tick like I tick, you’re a heretic!”

Thus the poem, and its metaphor…at least on one level…the fabulous women who read here will find the other levels over time…all of them.

Do justly, love mercy, walk humbly,