Impress Me!
Signed the Fussy Female
Impress Me
In a shadowy boudoir, kissed by sunlight,
sheltered from the prying eyes
of would be copycats and competitors,
he choreographs his routine -
the precise and delicate pirouettes,
the devoted, dervish-wild whirl of his purple-black skirt
edged in shimmering turquoise,
the dips and bows setting
the trembling, live-wire feathers
sprouting from his head
aflutter with anticipation.
He saves the best for last,
for her eyes only.
A flash of iridescence,
a clandestine wink
between co-conspirators
a secret shared,
a promise made,
a desire fulfilled.
She is moved -
her curiosity aroused,
her passion inflamed,
her body’s demand to call forth life
at war with discernment,
with the weight of her ancestors’
beating wings infusing the air
with caution.
”Choose well,” they whisper.
”Our lives depend on it.” - Jena Ball
I love this video showing the mating ritual of the Western Parotia Bird (a kind of Bird of Paradise). In my opinion, this is how it should be. Men have little to contribute to the creation of another human being, other than sperm. That is not to discount that contribution, or the fact that many men play a significant role in raising the children they father. However, the fact remains that females are the ones who bear the burden and responsibility of gestating, birthing, and caring for the young of our species. Therefore, logic dictates that men who wish to copulate should have to compete for the chance to father children AND answer to women when they fail to deliver. I am not going into the many and delightful mating displays I can think of for men. I hope you, my discerning readers, will weigh in with your own suggestions.
But I will say this. If men were more focused on impressing women (on improving their intellectual, dance, fashion, design, athletic, and artistic skills) instead of trying to control them, the world would be a kinder, safer, and more egalitarian place and we wouldn’t be rushing headlong into a political tsunami tonight.
Just imagine how delightful it would be to watching a debate judged solely by women with questions like, “How do you plan to ensure that all women have the right to make decisions about their bodies? How do you plan to end childhood hunger? How will you fix the broken public school system? How will you end income inequality? How will you fix the tax system? How will you ensure equal pay for equal work?” Shall I go on? Imagine if the winner of tonight’s debate was someone who knew that the real power lies with the women of our species - that our future both as a country and as a species depends on embracing and implementing what EVERY mother knows - Life (ALL life) is precious, interconnected, and interdependent. It’s time to stop posturing and start protecting those lives. ~ Signed the Fussy Female
P.S. These two songs have been running through my head as I wrote this. I imagine if they were being played during the debate tonight.
Superwoman by Alicia Keys
You And Me Of The 10,000 Wars by Indigo Girls
P.P.S.S. I’d love to hear/read your thoughts, poems (I KNOW we have some stellar poets among us) and song suggestions. Send them to JenaBall@CritterKin.com
Copyright 20224 by Jena Ball. All Rights Reserved.
Adorable!
An ode to Women judging tonight’s debate:
In a grand hall, where lights do blaze,
Five women sit, their voices raise.
From different walks, they came to see,
A debate of might and destiny.
First speaks Claire, of wealth and ease,
In designer dress, with life of peace.
"Policies of trade, I do implore,
Which one of you will open doors?
Will markets thrive, will stocks ascend?
Which path ensures my dividends?"
Then Maria, from the working class,
With calloused hands, she speaks at last.
"My children need a better school,
Healthcare's a right, not just a tool.
Who will lift the minimum wage,
And ease the burdens that we wage?"
Next is Beth, from middle ground,
In suburban life, her hopes are bound.
"Taxes high, they bleed us dry,
Tell me, who will clarify?
Who will balance, fair and just,
Our family’s dreams, our nation's trust?"
Fourth is Dee, from struggle’s lane,
Her eyes reflect a constant pain.
"In shadows deep, we fight to live,
What hope, what future can you give?
Who will lift us from despair,
And show that truly, you do care?"
Last is Ann, from wealth’s steep rise,
With shrewdness sharp, and keen bright eyes.
"Foreign policies, the global play,
Which one will lead in the fray?
Who can handle, who can steer,
In times of chaos, in times of fear?"
The men on stage, with fervor speak,
Their words a dance, both bold and sleek.
Yet in the eyes of these five peers,
The truth is weighed through hopes and fears.
From gilded halls to humble homes,
Their judgments form, each thought that roams.
In every voice, a nation's thread,
In every heart, the future spread.
Impressed?