did you know that March18th-March 24th is International Anti-Street Harassment Week? well it IS and my creative tribe, The Saartjie Project, will be participating by doing some street theater this Saturday 3/24/12 at 1:30pm near the corner of 7th and G Streets, NW. that is right in the HEART of Gallery Place. the piece i am posting today will be one of the pieces that i will be sharing on Saturday. If you are able to join us, we would love to see your smiling faces! 
words
© 2001 by margaux delotte-bennett
if you don’t have a vagina
it might be hard to understand
how the words, “you’re a fine looking woman!”
can instantly turn from a phrase to seduce
into a noose
snaking its way around my oh so long and pretty
breakable neck
these words aren’t used to lift me up
but to hold me up
face to the wall
legs spread
juices hopefully flowing
who gave them the power?
who gave you the power?
it certainly wasn’t me that taught Zeus
that rape and seduce are synonymous
or teaches soldiers that if you can’t take it by air
take it by sea
or teaches some that ‘no means no’ is registered on a plane that only dogs
seems to unconditionally understand
and who am I to knock flattery?
because apparently someone staring at me
can’t help but see a queen
and when I serenely avoid the advances
I have to take my chances with being called a
stuck up bitch.
I wish I could shake you and make you overstand
the power you wield as a man.
use your words wisely
not on some corner to size up women the likes of me
who can plainly see
this really ain’t where you need to be.
with this being an election year, i plan to do my share to get out the vote. i am a fan of the political process, though flawed, partially because so many marched, sat in and died so that i could raise my voice and elect my representatives. this piece is a work in progress, but i wanted to share it with you as my post of the week. critical feedback is always appreciated…
I vote with my womb
© 2012 by margaux delotte-bennett
I vote with my womb
and the freedom to choose
if and when it will becomes a home for a developing soul
it is my body and
my concern
I vote with my tongue
and the myriad of mouths
it can fill as I choose who will receive my love
recognized or unrecognized by your laws
creed and code
I vote with my skin
sun kissed brown
sometimes despised by not me
Overlooked by other than me
Un- and misrepresented by
anyone but me
I vote with my teeth
jagged edges biting into the dream of this america
we don’t have to be hungry
there is enough
and I deserve my share
and my fill
I vote with my feet
as they romp and stomp their way
along paths they are boldly making
trails not yet beaten down
tracks never straight
roads always less travelled
I vote with my heart
chambers pumping in time
bloodlines past and present
animating this body at this moment to
live life fully demanding all that is earned and owed
I vote
because my life
depends on it
did you know that yours does too?
the NAPOWRIMO Challenge is done! i labored to write 30 poems in 30 days… i lost poem number 29 (somewhere in my house) and poem number 30 never was written. during the month there were a few days when i wrote multiple pieces, so i am content with how i finished out the challenge.
yea for me!
in other news…
The weekend of May 14th and 15th is the debut of the latest Saartjie Project creation, Four Women. we have been practicing and preparing to share our hard work exploring the themes in Nina Simone’s powerful song. The piece that i am posting today is not a part of the show, but it was inspired by it. enjoy!
i still…
(c) 2011 by margaux delotte-bennett
1.
aunt sarah
i still smell his cologne on my skin
i was his first
so he was the worst
because he assumed that a man needed to lead
he had no idea that the seed of a woman’s passion needs to be tended and stroked
instead of just poked
though the memory is fleeting
that scent still makes me choke!
2.
saffronia
i still smell his cologne on my skin
he was trying so hard to impress
that he made such a mess of his new white shirt
when he hugged me
i saw the blue trail of
stolen smell goods over his
shoulder and down his back
though the memory is fleeting
i dig deep and bring it back…
3.
sweet thing
i still smell his cologne on my skin
it was monday afternoon so my sign was in
i was taking some respite from their stares
painting all my nails
curling and plucking stray hairs
then up on my porch did i see
strolled a stranger with looks that surprised me
the greeting was brief
but that afternoon, what a release!
through the memory is fleeting,
it revives me.
4.
peaches
i still smell his cologne on my skin
i scrub the side of my face
my hands
my neck
raw and welted
through i sometimes suspect
his smell is in my nose
my memory
my fear
i did everything right
but it was just my night to suffer
that’s clear…
though the memory is fleeting
it always sits near.
Today is International Women’s Day!
Today is Mardi Gras!
Today is a day to celebrate!
and may we all find a reason to celebrate everyday…
sister friend
© by margaux delotte-bennett
sister friend
moon faced wonder child
star lashed muse
constellations can only copy your shine
in eyes and teeth and mind
you are the best part
you are the climax of life
turned upside down
in a world that is content to just follow along
step by conforming step
leading down a road to no one’s freedom
when it means that you don’t know your ‘fone’
and don’t worry, you’re fine
sister friend
moon faced wonder child
star lashed muse
you made it to today
we must celebrate your spirit
and your truth
your heart beats on
without malice
only light
yesterday, our minds were closed
today, our eyes exposed
tomorrow, our souls transposed into a she
that is not defined on any TV
sister friend
my moon
my star
you made it home
shine on, shine bright
you owe it to you and the wonder child
within
last summer i had the honor of going to South Africa (again!) to work with the over 100 delegates of the Man Up Campaign. Man Up is a global campaign to activate youth to stop violence against women and girls. how will that happen? by supporting the innovation, motivation and activism of young men and women already working to change their communities for the better.
this post ends with a great video that explains why and how violence against women can become a thing of the past.
words 2010 (a reprise) © 2010 by margaux delotte-bennett
if you don’t have a vagina
it may be hard to understand
how the words “you’re a fine looking woman”
and instantly turn from a phrase to seduce into a noose
snaking it’s way around my “oh, so long and pretty”
snappable neck
these words aren’t always said to pick me up
lift me up
but to hold me up
face to the wall
legs spread
juices [hopefully] flowing
who gave them the power?
who gave you the power?
it certainly wasn’t me who taught Zeus
that rape and seduce are synonymous
or taught the soldiers
that if you can’t take it by air, take it by sea
or taught some men that
no means no can only be registered on a level that
dogs unconditionally understand…
and who am I to knock flattery
because apparently a person
who’s staring at me
can’t help but recognize a queen
and when I serenely avoid the advances
I have to take my chances
with being called stuck up
or fucked up
or a bitch
and all because I don’t want you?
I wish I could shake you and make you overstand
the power that you wield as a man
and why are you using that
power to post on the corner
to size up women the likes of me
who can plainly see
this really ain’t where you need to be
so use your words
more wisely.
the poet and the muse…
this summer i had the wonderful opportunity to participate in an art show called Soul Revival. Poets were given a piece of visual art to use as a muse for a new creation. The show was conceived and curated by Sharon J. Burton, the founder of Authentic Contemporary Art.
I was assigned a painting by a woman named J’nell Jordan entitled Mirage and I was immediately struck by the colors and the story i saw depicted in the piece. here is the painting followed by the piece it inspired…
The Special Joy Blues © 2010 margaux delotte-bennett
there is a special joy in being seen
we tend to glow in hopes that someone will catch our light
spot the “may I?” and the “might…”
that lingers behind our eyes
dances across our parted lips
wraps itself in the folds of color draped on our hips
or resting between shoulder blades hungry to be kissed
there is a special joy in being seen…
there is a special joy in being touched
the skin may first recoil
but only enough to invite another
brush
nibble
back handed caress
goose bumps read like Braille on a heaving chest
we share this space by choice
you want me to be near
I want you to be here when the morning comes
the sum of our parts is a little less
when I and I folds into we
our breath in time
you are all I see
there is a special joy in you touching me
when my eyes open
and my skin is cold
and I roll over into the space that you once did hold
there is no special joy
there is no special
there is no
there is
there…
it’s wednesday and i almost forgot to post the poem of the week because i am actually at a conference in atlanta. i just realized that it was wednesday and the publishing schedule that i am trying to keep passed me by.
this is only my second time in atlanta (been in the airport TOO many times) and i have had the chance to walk the streets a bit and see folks…living. There is a hunger amongst the homeless here that inspired me to post this poem.
change to spare (c) 2010 by margaux delotte-bennett
50 cents
every day she asks me for 50 cents
and every day i deny her request
’cause i know she’s already got the coins
from him
or him
or her.
i know that what she is really asking for
is help with dulling the pain
a chance to possibly feel ok
an opportunity to really only need 50 cents
to make it through today.
but i can’t fit all that in my wallet
and even i need all that in my life
but neither of us has the time
or the desire to share the little that we do know
that might limit the other’s strife
or
the time to break down and explain all this
twice
so i just slowly shake my head
and she just nods me on my way
and i wish i had some change to spare
to help us change
our yesterdays and today.
