Poem #2: The Eye of The Beholder

Beauty’s in the eye of the Beholder.
That’s what…someone (?) always says.
But it’s still so dang confusing:
There are too many Beholders nowadays.

Let’s start with something easy: Fashion.
I wonder what ‘s their preferred flavor?
Languid, limpid, dead-looking,
sickly thin like a war-camp ration wafer.

Next, let’s move on to Porn.
Porn likes it hot, hot, HOTTT.
They dig those big asses, tits, & pussies–
Intellect? Feelings? Dreams? How about tripleXXX NOT.

Don’t get me started on Colleges.
It’s a haze-induced mixture, I think,
of easy girls and sexy barbies and hoe-sluts and
Don’t say no you’re only fun if you wanna get down (how b’outa drink… ?).

And how about RELIGION?
Oh man, I know that one well.
Because a woman’s body is Satan’s plaything–
(I mean, it’s because of woman that man first fell).

With so many conflicting messages
for little girls to digest,
It’s a wonder we ever grow up
with anything like self-respect

for ourselves and for our bodies
and how to navigate our fears
that we’re nothing more than objects—

Oh, let’s hope and dream and thrive,
hold close to our hearts what’s often denied.
Because the only good kinds of Beholders
are the life-giving ones we grow inside.