Bras // Verbal Spill

28 September 2016

I was thinking about bras, and I suppose boobs as well. As a girl who has these (just), i can safely say they can be a pain in the arse.

There are many discussions I could have about boobs today, for example, the frustrating ridiculous expectations that girls have to live up to of big boobs and yet, generally, stores only cater for people of my chest size. Please, tell me the logic of this. We could also discuss the debate of whether boobs are sexual or whether society has made them appear that way. We could talk about breastfeeding, breast cancer, breast problems but I think I'm going to be slightly more philosophical.

So I pose the question:

"Is it better to feel comfortable and supported but trapped, than free and empowered but in pain?"

I sort of like the feeling of going bra-less, I've basically only ever done this a maximum of five times since developing boobs, but for some reason it's quite empowering when you just do it, when you can't be bothered to take the bra off. However, personally, I don't find bras particularly restrictive, they feel quite comfortable to me, but I am aware that this is not the case for everybody and a lot of people feel trapped in their bras. This inspired the above question. Now, stop thinking about boobs for a moment.  Ask yourself the question. What situations come to mind?

I think there are many situations in life where you feel comfortable and supported, but trapped. For example, living with your parents, not "coming-out" as gay, not identifying as a feminist, being in a secure friendship group that you don't really like anymore etc etc. Is it better to be in that situation than taking the plunge? I don't think so. Using the example above, you can't live with your parents forever, you just can't, and when you move out it's going to be difficult, it will be a shock, but you will grow as a person and become more independent, brave and strong.

It might feel like the right thing to do, to avoid the stress of the scary thing, but if you dare to identify as a feminist (for example) you will find parts of yourself that you never before knew existed and be able to see the strength that you have to deal with people who disagree with you, learn to accept other people's beliefs and respect the things that they say, learn new interpretations of the world to help to form what you believe. If you continue to not dare to have your own opinions, you will never know how you really feel or what you really think. You have got to put yourself out there and dare to try something new, because it might be painful...

But you will be free

// Jeani





The girl in the cell // poem

25 September 2016

She curled up in her cell
Her soul had gone completely numb
She stared at the brick wall
As she counted with her thumb

Her face had shrunken in
Her lips were bleeding like a ghost
Dirt was nesting in her hair
There were bruises on her throat

Her eyes were blind, glazed over
She didn't even want to blink
She could hear the distant voices
That craved to know how she did think

A bitter smile did creep upon her
As they stared through heavy glass
She was as still as trees in winter
She didn't even raise her heart

The keys hung on the inside
All she had to do was simply stand
But she left them anxious, waiting
While she steadied both her hands

All desire had left her body
She was almost just a shell
But that 'almost' dared to keep fighting
To try and relieve her of this cell

Decades they have kept her
Tried to break her like a window
She once seemed soft and fragile
But you can't just break a pillow

The keys hung on the door-frame
All she had to do was simply stand
She thought it was impossible
So I held her weary hand

Together we went forward
Tiny step to tiny step
When she tripped up I caught her falling
While her lost pride held up her head

Her fingertips lurched forward
The keys so close to her aching grasp
Her eyes wept tears for freedom
Her soul returning now at last

There was brightness in her eyes
There was longing in her moves
I smiled with guiltless joy
As she shows what she has to prove

She snatches up the keys
Then she twists them in the lock
She throws the door behind her
Her new soul aching for a flock

She stands in the broken door frame
Her breath catches in her throat
The world just steps away
Just a leap to Noah's boat

Her hand slips out of mine
And she balls it in a fist
Her tender foot steps forward
Into the hopeful, unsure mist

She walks onto the grass
She fills her lungs with air
A laugh escapes her lips
When the wind runs through her hair

Her body springs to life
She dances round with glee
The world is now her oyster
She can live so happily

She stops for just a moment
she turns and faces me
A look flashes across her
I know exactly what she means

I let myself hang back
I watch her newfound spirit leave
I hope that in her new journey
She spares a thought sometimes of me

// Jeani














Rain // poem // Verbal Spill

16 September 2016

Scratching pens and muffled silence
The mist lays low outside
The rain falls on the windows
Thunder cracks at every side

Our legs propel us forward
The rain stings our weary eyes
We're relieved when shelter finds us
We laugh it off to pass the time

Once brushed and sleek, smooth hair
Rebels and curls like a small child
Our cheeks are rosy red, Our eyes
Bright with excited smiles

By routine, vanity's king
It's subconscious in our minds
We never get that sense of freedom
Because we're too afraid to be alive

Mascara runs down our cheeks
Somehow we are free suddenly
A childish empowerment
That's joined by immodest glee

I pity those who run
From the thing that makes them want to hide
Because a downpour of this rain
Has made me see who I am inside

// Jeani


Wander // poem

15 September 2016

I perch on the edge of a cliff
My arms stretched above my head
I reach for the clouds suspended
By a single sewing thread

I see the blood red sunset
Drip upon the crawling mist
I feel the stone beneath me
Sing a deep and booming hymn

Rainbows bleed through cigarette smoke
The rain catches on my lips
My skin absorbs the sunshine
'Til it radiates within

I feel my voice escape me
Through my anticipating lips
It soothes my aching throat
As I breathe the notes I miss

I touch the morning dewdrops
As they spring from lemon grass
I taste the scent of fire
On his ever present laugh

I gaze down upon fields
From my safe and secure seat
I see the Earth pass me by
So many miles beneath my feet

My home feels so familiar
Although I expected it would not
My routine just falls in place
Like I was never really gone

Now I have tasted worlds of colour
Mine seems like only shades of grey
But I will not pine for more
For that would waste my time away

// Jeani















Craving // poem

14 September 2016

A craving in the fingertips
A licking of your lips
A smile across the classroom
I roll my eyes at this

Attentive and unsure
You kissed me like I was fire
But my warmth was less alarming
Than you saw from my attire

Responsible yet crazy
From this unrelenting lust
Respectful to a daisy
Just like you know you must

A kiss upon each eyelid
As I close them both to sleep
I imagine you are with me
Just to hold me while I weep

When you're not here I'm empty
Like my blood has simply gone
This love has truly ruined me
I'm dependant as a fawn

Every day is like the last one
I cherish every kiss
Just in case one day you are gone
And there's nothing left to miss

// Jeani


The inventor // poem

"Bloody instructions, which being taught, return to plague th'inventor" ~ William Shakespeare, Macbeth

The inventor's face looks absent
As his fingers rapidly create
He snarls in heated darkness
Like the fire he does make

The shadows light his features
As the fire burns his skin
He writes the method in his blood
Then hands it to his kin

The recipe is passed on
The dark fire starts to spread
It begins in people's stomachs
Before it rages in their heads

Power and desire
With a teaspoon of detest
The world begins to crack
As he overlooks his mess

What once was plagued insanity
Is now simply desperation
He hides in his dark corner
He accepts his long damnation

He slowly stands in terror,
His hands begin to shake
He walks into the flames
That he once was proud to make

// Jeani


Humming bird // poem

The yellow glow of summer
Like de-ja vu it flashes by
winter chills, a distant drummer
Seem far away although time flies

One love is caught, I hold it
Like a bird i feel its thrumming heart
But other heart beats drown it
I watch the others swoop and dart

Curiosity warms my lips 
as bright colours grab my attention
Security is a futile script
Until love is loudly mentioned

Bodies heat like boiling water
How can pain be felt so internally
I close my eyes and shake my head
As I remember what's mine eternally

// Jeani



Self-love


I wrote this poem a few months ago about the self-hate culture that we have as a society

Amongst teenagers, 50% of girls and 30% of boys use unhealthy methods such as skipping meals, fasting and vomiting to control their weight, and 90% of teenagers are unhappy with their body shape. So why is this?

The media is easy to blame as magazines and social media obviously promote the unrealistic body standards that we all know too well: skinny, yet curvy, flawless, yet messy – an attempt at relatability yet still maintaining the Photoshop polished look. It’s easy to get caught up in these fake images, it’s easy to believe that they’re real, to believe that celebrities are naturally perfect, but the truth is it’s all an illusion.

But there are surprisingly many further reasons to why we teenagers are insecure about how we look. Conflicting ideologies about beauty, the growing anxiety trend and being judged on how much skin we show, to name a few.  We need to stop the belief that a girl’s worth is in how much makeup she wears or how short her skirt is.  We need to stop the belief that a boy’s worth is in his strength.

In my experience, we are our own worst enemies. Every day in this school, I see people making fun of each other for achieving, for being individuals and sometimes just for being. Research shows that we are happier when we boost each other up and more miserable when we tear people down and criticise unnecessarily.

I believe that as a society, we should promote a new way.  Instead of tearing each other down for what we wear, for how our hair looks, for our skin, for our body, for our personalities, for our intelligence, for our motivation, we should empower each other to do what makes us happy, encourage each other to do our own best. To not compete. To build with each other. To be the best people that we can be. Make a stand for yourself. Be proud of who you are. Don’t be afraid to do what makes you happy. Form a culture in this generation that encourages self-love not self-hate. Help me to acknowledge that we’re in a mess, for love to replace hate.