The Seamstress
in a state of distress
Her beautiful dress
delivered all disheveled
to the wrong person
at the wrong address
In a world
of things broken
Lives out of balance
Compassion forsaken
To the Seamstress
it always seems
the sugar and spice of life
is always beyond her grasp
All tribal voodoos
and social taboos
in a hoodoo trance
then dressed up in the drag
of religious intolerance
A cat o’ nine tails
is ever poised above
the servery of slavery
in the dungeon
of hell’s kitchen
Wielded by the initiates
of submission
with what they call
paternal loving discipline
Please trans relate this …
Surely true loving justice
should be raceless,
casteless, classless,
and yes … genderless?
The Seamstress
in a fractured state
of broken bliss
One stitch at a time
behind a darkened blind
Where fear is the X-Factor
Where life’s All Victorious
and even the lowly scrofulous
demand there be a loser
in the ordained pecking order
Is freedom of expression
only for those deemed worthy
of a hollow blessing?
The self righteously repressed
openly loathing
yet secretly longing
for that forbidden caress
from a desperate outcast
The Seamstress
wishing not only
to have sewn
that flowing wedding dress
but to have been
the glowing princess
Arm in arm
with her shining prince
All in a dream
Love never ending
forever to express
The colours of the rainbow
… they should all be mine!
Interwoven
with glitter, and lace,
elegance, and grace.
Can’t you see me shine?
Just a daydream
for the Seamstress
to leave behind
her life’s raggedy mess
Born with the wrong body
And then delivered
to the wrong family
at some povo address
An accident of birth?
But yet …
in her deepest weakness
there is a strength
unbroken by regret
A light that shines
in the furthest darkness
An inner defiance
A beauty
that could only be
heaven sent
Another new morning
The Seamstress serene
dons again her dark shroud
like a shadow in mourning
A train to be catching
City and soul bound
Faceless and anonymous
blending into the crowd
… Will I ever be free?
Like that person,
so bright, proud, and loud,
sitting right next to me.
~ By David B. Redpath © 2018-2020
‘Transcend Gender’
~ by David B. Redpath © 2017-2020
Photo from Twitter
Awesome.
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Thanks for that, Yassy.
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Always welcome , David.
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David , reading this is a treat to my eyes. Well Done!
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Thanks, Shashank.
With reluctance
I must admit
now that it has been writ
that this was a bit
of self indulgence
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amazing piece of writing.
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Thank you very much, G.G.
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As always, amazing writing. So incisive. I am a fan lol
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Thanks, BeeZeeGee.
I’m having trouble keeping
up with your prolific writing,
of quantity and quality.
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Lol. Well I will slow down a bit then…….if I can, HA!
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I absolutely love this one😍🤩
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Thank you very much, Ortensia.
And top of the morning to you.
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David, a beautiful composition of recognition. The X-Factor: fear, sadly plays both sides of the fence, the feared (motivated by fear) and the fearful. Here’s to light and brightness for all. Terrific image, and a wonderful painting!
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Thank you very much, Mia.
I’ve had that pic filed away in the back burner
for the last year, since it was misused for a
Right Wing propaganda campaign. It then,
happily, became an icon of satire and rebuke,
backfiring against the forces of division.
So I waited for the smoke to clear, and the
bulldust to settle.
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You’re welcome, David. Have a great weekend.
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Another enjoyable read to start my morning. Thank you sir.
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A fair Quid Pro Quo.
Thanks Walt.
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You’re very welcome.
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“In her deepest weakness there is strength” Your phrases are beautifully designed and written. An enjoyable poem. ☺
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Thanks for reading and commenting, Walt.
I did a fair bit of editing with this one, but
that phrase was always staying in.
I’ve since had some pruned bits crying out
for inclusion. I was attempting some self
discipline in not making it too long.
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You’re very welcome David. I’m glad you left it in. It adds a great sense of purpose.
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Brilliant work, David, I have no other words. Love the exquisite choice of words, the double rhymes that remind me of some Jack Kerouac’s, the reflective thoughts, the powerful message, the voice you give to the Seamstress in italics and the photo that portrays our current society, where the two characters sitting next to each other feel so unadjusted. Loved it!
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Thank you very much, Marta.
I read ‘Dharma Bums’ when
quite young, and could never
get the Kerouac out of my head.
Been on the road from
Desolation Row on Route 66
throught to Mexico City ever since.
With just the
subterranean homesick blues
and Jack for company.
Thanks for your thoughts, Marta.
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My pleasure.
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Ah, forgot the lovely painting with this mixture of mild and wild colors that somehow manage to create the harmony we should always need in our world.
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Thanks Marta.
The painting was my attempt
at a Ying & Ying
( No Yang Need Apply ).
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What’s there not to love!
The photo, the cadence of your words, the ying-ying painting and not to forget the just right length. Thanks David.
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Thank you very much, Punam.
Always nice to hear from you.
Glad you liked it.
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Always a pleasure to visit your blog.
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I lost this poem. Then it found me.
Please trans relate this….Oh yes. For genderless world, dear David.
Where on Earth did you find this image? Fucking amazing.
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Thank you, Bojana.
The pic caused a bit of a
storm last year when it was used to push a conservative
political agenda, which
backfired thankfully.
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I bet. Whoever took it is a genius.
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I tried but couldn’t find a credit?
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Uh I’m lost for words… It doesn’t happen often.
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Thanks for reading, Luiza.
I trust you located your lost
words, otherwise I would be poetically Divastated.
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Hahaha you made me laugh out loud while staring at my phone! 🙌🤜🤛
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👏👏👏👏👏👏👏
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Thanks for that, Luiza.
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The Seamstress should design for the Kardashians
and leave the realm of Cruella and 101 Dalmatians.
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Chris, are u barking mad?
To be stitched up
and locked up
in the knockoff purse
of the Kardashian curse
From Euro trash to Royalty
is in the tea leaves of
the Seamstress’s destiny.
Out of the Bagdad
of the big bad …
Uncloseted and care free.
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What a great afternoon read! And the photo is many words.
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A picture is worth
a thousand of them.
Thanks for the read
and the like, Basilike.
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Always a pleasure!
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It’s not always easy to have the words to describe something you enjoy. And I enjoyed this. Keep writing 🙂
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Thanks for that, Geoff.
I enjoyed writing this one.
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You caught but then I was totally wrong.
The Seamstress was about the other one.
She’s about everyone sometimes — me too.
I loved this poem and your art. Thank you.
♥.
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Greatly appreciated, Niki 🙏 💛
Thanks for the positive vibrations,
despite falling into my thoroughly
devious poetic trap 🕸️ 😎
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You’re welcome. I loved this poem! I say that though every single time I read you. =) ♥.
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Your appreciation
of my little poem
has given me, Niki,
a happy sensation 😎💛
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=) ♥.
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Good one David. “Seamstress” is of course a euphemism for sex workers, or, (for the prudish,) prostitutes whores and porn stars… You know I don’t believe there are straights and gays… LGBT and variations on that hackneyed theme, no, what I see is that there are as many genders /sexualities / preferences as there are human beings. Again our education forces us to tow arbitrary lines in shifting sands… we have to unlearn so much!
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All bound and blinded in the bind
of socially engineered binary system.
With a Dark Dominatrix cracking the
whip on the backside of Armageddon.
Thanks Peter for visiting my humble
little establishment, the House of
the Kingdom to Come. Right next door
to the House of the Setting Sun 🌅
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Maybe social engineering is a good thing? It gives us something to fight against? Is a state without social engineering of some sort a reality? No, of course not! But it’s also been the ruin of many a poor boy, and Your Man I know I’m one! 😉
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Lord knows, I was no super tramp.
Yet, despite all my bests efforts,
they send me away to teach me
how to be sensible, logical, ever
so responsible, and practical. Then
they showed me a world where
I could be so dependable, clinical,
and intellectual. When all I could
manage was to be cynical. At that,
it turns out, I’m a natural 🙄
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You wrote the song…
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👏🎶🌅💃🏼✍️🕺⚧
This was the first I’d heard (in Peter Robinson’s comment) of this seamstress euphemism.
So here I stood, sew enlightened.
For… I sew! And my mother was alsew a sometimes-tailor!
But only with fabric, songs, and dreams.
And my father was no gambling man.
He lived far from New Orleans.
Sex can be work, but depending how we twerk, it can also be pleasure, it seams.
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My hard working Seamstress 👗
pleads her innocence, your Honour.
It was most naughty of Peter to
make such a scurrilous reference!
But then, some of my best friends
have been in the business … But,
never me! I’d give it away for free
being exceedingly generous 😎
And yes, sex can be heavenly and
delicious, or just frayed stitches
of bitterness 💔
Thank you Lia for your poetically
lyrical comment 🙏 💃 🎶 💛
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😍😇😘🙏
💙👗💚👗💛
(I’ve also recently learned that
“green” also once had sexual connotations! –
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Greensleeves#Origin)
I think the sex work
business provides a
necessary service, and is
best when regularized.
With or without seamstresses
singing sixteenth-century
songs about blue bobbins,
on the side. ;)) 🧵
And thank YOU, for yours, both before and after, David,
you’ve made my heart smile.
🤗🔆
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You’ve given me a whole new
perspective on that old song
… ‘Greensleeves’ 💚
Not to mention Shakin’ Stevens
and his ‘Green Door’ 😎
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Just had a listen –
🎹✅🌟🤩
Sounds like lovers kissin’!
And such a green-gold-blue eye
lookin’ but a-missin’
at all that lovin’ and a laughin’
behind that greeeen door.
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And I’m quite sure 👁️💚👁️
there’s some wacky tobaccy 🥴
behind that green door🚪🤢
Because Toby Keith told me 🙃🕶️
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Are you as wildly perceptive 🚪
As I believe you to be? 😎
If so, it’s karmically thrilling 🔆
and a pleasure to see 💚👀🙏
Also, your emoticons 🥴
Fill me with glee. 😄
As for Toby… sounds like he
Shoulda been a cowboy. 🤠🍻
That’s what YouTube tells me. 🎶
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Mamas’ don’t let your babies grow
up to be wacky tobaccy smokers
Don’t let ’em pick guitars
or drive them old trucks
Let ’em be doctors
and lawyers and such
Mamas’ don’t let your babies grow
up to be wacky tobaccy smokers
‘Cause they’ll never stay home
and they’re always alone
Even with someone they love 💛🤠
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😍🙏🎸🎶
Sounds like it’s time t
t’git out the ol’ gee-tar
and strum us a toe-tappin’
tune, there, pardner!
Simply divine,
your country runes.
🌾🐄🙏💛
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You’ve forced my hand, Lia.
I must now confess that I love
that real nitty gritty low down
ramblin’ country blues sound …
I have climbed so many mountains
Just to reach the other side
I near drowned myself in freedom
Just to feed my foolish pride
On my journey through the darkness
I have finally seen the light
I know no one’s ever loved me
Like you’re loving me tonight
There is something I must tell you
I wonder if you’ll understand
How I found such worldly pleasures
In the arms of other men
You should never try to judge me
We have both been wrong and right
But I know no one’s ever loved me
Like you’re loving me tonight
God will save His fallen angels
And their broken wings He’ll mend
When He draws their hearts together
And they learn to love again
All their sins will be forgiven
In the twinkle of an eye
All the saints rejoice in heaven
When the fallen angels fly
~ Billy Joe Shaver
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Oh my, oh my!!
how these words
make my soul fly.
Even the blackbirds
in the eves, now,
harken to god’s cry.
Such a beauty of a song,
Twittered long and long.
With true love 💛
we can’t go wrong.
Let karma ring
its loving gong. 🔔
Thank you for
this lyric so lovely. 😍
Now I’m off to make lunch
for my bunch
of lovely dovies.
🕊🌮🕊🌮🕊🌮🕊🌮🕊
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Brilliant!
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Merci beaucoup, Kathryn 😎
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Simply put, this is excellent. It’s my fave piece of yours, so far!
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Sew glad your liked it, Resa 😎
May the Grand Fashionista bless
the hands that stitch your dress 👗
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I sew my Art Gowns by hand…. every stitch.
Guess I’m blessed! ❤
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I had an inkling 🤔
You being the Mistress
of dresses for the evening 🌃
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Thank you, starry night man!
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Great write…
Keep up amazing work
Have a great day…
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Thank you for such a seamless compliment, Ravindra 🙏 😎
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You’re most welcome David✌🏼
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Beautiful writing 🙂🙏
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Thank you, Nitin 🙏
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The Seamstress is distressed by the religious binding. She should abandon the life of suffocation and be free as a butterfly.
Always admire your writing. Thank you for sharing. 🙂
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You’re most welcome, Kritika 💛
Yes, my heart breaks for all the
“seamstresses” suffering under
patriarchal oppression 💔
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