Penis Envy

21 04 2009

This is a poem submitted to us by Liv called “Penis Envy”.  Here’s a little about Liv:

My name is Liv and I am queer-identified, soon-to-be Newton North High School graduate. I have been writing all my life, and began being active in the GLBTQ community about 3 years ago. I have been writing, recording, and posting my spoken word poetry to Myspace ( for about a year and a half now. I hope to major in English or Women’s Studies next year at Simmons College in Boston.

Thanks Liv, we appreciate your contributions!

Penis Envy

don’t ask me to know you don’t expect me

to know the word you’ll say next

or to finish your sentences for you.

don’t tell me that you know me

better than I know myself

because I haven’t gotten there yet.

I haven’t defined myself, haven’t put it down in words

haven’t set anything in stone, so

Don’t tell me that you know me

because I haven’t gotten there yet

Yeah, my final destination is not in front of me

it gallops around in the air, flies across the sea

and some day it will drop dead

in one place

And you may

or may not

be there to see it crash.

Yeah, that place is not strong

It shakes and quivers under the harsh glare of

the mid-day sun

It struggles to find somewhere

to be

or not to be



I struggle and squirm, too, in your


because you have found me

before I’ve found myself.



So, a strong woman once told me

that there need to be more of us.

Us strong women

who stay and fight.

who don’t run out into the road and

get hit, get stuck to the pavement

who don’t surrender to the hand of men with

electronically scanable IDs, with wedding bands

and endless circles of power and greed


Yeah, greed that comes,

comes in the form of one small appendage

That appendage which has always given men


An appendage so small they can hide it

in their pants

An appendage so powerful that

strong women like us succumb to it


So why don’t I got one?

Why can’t I have that which makes you

feel and forget everything?

That which brings:

success, and

money, and

greed, and

lust, and

“Honey, baby hold me closer.”


Yeah, a woman once told me that we lose too many

strong women to this.


And so this is how I’ll stay:

strong, and

big breasted, and

big hearted, and

emotionally unstable

for all of woman kind.




Or at least that’s what she thought.

She thought despite her anger at

definition and

straight lines and

boxes that she was really just another lesbian.


Just another woman fighting with other just women

for just a just cause.


But she was just wrong,

just another hypocrite

another lie in her series of lies about her

and her big breasts.


Her big breasts that now compress my lungs.

That now hang tight to my ribs.

Hanging on for dear life.

As she was hanged on her string of safety

a rope thick with stereotypes

intertwined with, and made strong by lies that her role models had told her.

back when she believed what she was told by those who believe in nothing.

she hung in there tight.


But now I am free from words with deep seeded connotation

As I, restricted in my breath, am free from those breasts 



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