Thursday, January 19, 2006

Sweet Goddess of Surrender

Bow down
to the God of Twiglet.
He has his fingers down my throat,
the staple denial in my stomach,
re-emerging like a last chocolate biscuit.

The steel board of muscle
a requirement I don't understand,
but understand I must acquire.

And satin-skinned, slim, bliss,
contentment paper-thin,
worn as a lampshade
wrapped around a live flame:
my moth life.

Bikini body waits in my closet
rattling its skeleton.

Smile the lip-enhanced trout pout
and lipo-suction your gut
until conformity encases you.

Was there ever any doubt the outcome?
I have fought a brave fight, made a stand,
now I worship at the idol of

the Twiglet God, who demands
flesh be displayed in the contour
of bone and muscle;

soft curlicues in shell colours
flare his nostrils
and are relegated to funeral garb.

His manifestation is minimalist,
for mouths to regulate;
stomachs to compress themselves
in walnut shells.

The priesthood maintain his flock
from doctor's chairs, laboratories,
and editor's offices. The discourses
of science and medicine
are incontrovertible.

Temptations constantly test the faithful:
fried food served beneath golden arches,
sweet tastes wearing bright foils
and fancy boxes, sugar sodas
and soft dough breads.

All sins must be repented
with push ups, sit ups, squats and long runs;
sweat beads worn like a thorny crown.

Thou shalt bake, but not eat.
Thou shalt serve food, but not sit to dine.
Thou shalt not covet thy master's crust.
Thou shalt not query the right of a penis-driven society
to dictate the size and shape of the Goddess.
Thou shalt not despise those (sheep)
who grant them their power.

Thou shalt cease to labour upstream.
Turn and flow in the restful current,
for even Oprah has succumbed to its sirens.

Successful deprivation is rewarded
with longed for adulation from priests and flock.
I will sew my mouth closed and allow neither protest
nor sustenance to pass my lips.
I will be uplifted to the Goddess conformation.


James said...

Interesting poem. I like the way you approached this topic--eclectic and obtuse, yet narrowly defined to a fine tuned focus.

Rae Pater said...

Thanks James. I was trying hard to confine it only to myself and my own perspective and not turn it into a 'sermon on the mount.'

Michelle e o said...

Rae - I esp loved the bikini in the closet line. Great work!

Pris said...

You are a chameleon. Your poems grow and change colour. Love this!

Rae Pater said...

Thanks Michelle e o and Pris :)

H. W. Alexy said...

I will stop being human,
I will become an imagined idol...
yes, there is too much of that in this world. A good read, Rae.


Rae Pater said...

Helm! How lovely to see you!
Why didn't I know that was you?Thanks for reading me :)

Lee Herrick said...

this is great.

Rae Pater said...

:) thanks Lee :)