The Seamstress


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!
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 ยฉ 2018-2020


‘Transcend Gender’
~ by David B. Redpath ยฉ 2017-2020

Photo from Twitter

80 thoughts on “The Seamstress”

  1. 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!

    Liked by 4 people

    1. 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.

      Liked by 3 people

    1. 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.

      Liked by 3 people

  2. 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!

    Liked by 2 people

    1. 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.

      Liked by 3 people

    1. 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.

      Liked by 3 people

  3. 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!

    Liked by 2 people

    1. 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 ๐ŸŒ…

      Liked by 2 people

      1. 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! ๐Ÿ˜‰

        Liked by 1 person

      2. 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 ๐Ÿ™„

        Liked by 2 people

      3. ๐Ÿ‘๐ŸŽถ๐ŸŒ…๐Ÿ’ƒ๐Ÿผโœ๏ธ๐Ÿ•บโšง
        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.

        Liked by 1 person

      4. My hard working Seamstress ๐Ÿ‘—
        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 ๐Ÿ˜Ž
        And yes, sex can be heavenly and
        delicious, or just frayed stitches
        of bitterness ๐Ÿ’”
        Thank you Lia for your poetically
        lyrical comment ๐Ÿ™ ๐Ÿ’ƒ ๐ŸŽถ ๐Ÿ’›

        Liked by 1 person

      5. ๐Ÿ˜๐Ÿ˜‡๐Ÿ˜˜๐Ÿ™
        (I’ve also recently learned that
        “green” also once had sexual connotations! –
        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. ;)) ๐Ÿงต
        And thank YOU, for yours, both before and after, David,
        you’ve made my heart smile.

        Liked by 1 person

      6. 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.

        Liked by 1 person

      7. And I’m quite sure ๐Ÿ‘๏ธ๐Ÿ’š๐Ÿ‘๏ธ
        there’s some wacky tobaccy ๐Ÿฅด
        behind that green door๐Ÿšช๐Ÿคข
        Because Toby Keith told me ๐Ÿ™ƒ๐Ÿ•ถ๏ธ

        Liked by 1 person

      8. Are you as wildly perceptive ๐Ÿšช
        As I believe you to be? ๐Ÿ˜Ž
        If so, it’s karmically thrilling ๐Ÿ”†
        and a pleasure to see ๐Ÿ’š๐Ÿ‘€๐Ÿ™
        Also, your emoticons ๐Ÿฅด
        Fill me with glee. ๐Ÿ˜„
        As for Toby… sounds like he
        Shoulda been a cowboy. ๐Ÿค ๐Ÿป
        That’s what YouTube tells me. ๐ŸŽถ

        Liked by 1 person

      9. 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 ๐Ÿ’›๐Ÿค 

        Liked by 1 person

      10. ๐Ÿ˜๐Ÿ™๐ŸŽธ๐ŸŽถ
        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.

        Liked by 1 person

      11. 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

        Liked by 1 person

      12. 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 ๐Ÿ’›
        we can’t go wrong.
        Let karma ring
        its loving gong. ๐Ÿ””

        Thank you for
        this lyric so lovely. ๐Ÿ˜
        Now I’m off to make lunch
        for my bunch
        of lovely dovies.

        Liked by 1 person

  4. 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. ๐Ÿ™‚

    Liked by 1 person

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