My body is a temple

They bent their body into position
With that one single mission

Down in a hole without end or bottom
Our poo is made of pure pink cotton

Fake truths are so easy to swallow
Comfortably shallow
Words with soft edges
Raise you pledges

A temple of
fake truth
With the look of youth

Devours of air
Fountain hair
floating from their
superior power tower
They shall let you open
their flower

Healthy glow
A shell of gold
So controlled
So certain
No one looks
behind the curtain

#Metoo

In between ads for sales on bags

I see these constant hashtags

On electronic highways to universe

In search for lost bodies to reimburse

I try to process just what I feel

Try to digest with a fist of steel

And I read and I quote

What Waheed wrote

I have one hundred women inside of me

They raise their voice but disagree

A whisper inside says not to care

Despite this spread through cyber air

Because after all, in every nation

The middle names of this generation

Is short lived and light

Without the energy for political fight

So, any minute now

It´s forgotten anyhow

Over the years these stories have built

A reminding heavy rock of guilt

Shared so quickly on internet

But the thought of it all just makes me sweat

What would your mother say, what would she think?

About stories as dirty as mold and as dark as ink

Unfriend your parents on Instagram

So they don´t have to carry every kilogram

Of knowledge of the patriarchal effect

On how being a girl turns you into object

But just share the simple tag

Easy, simple, wave your flag!

Without any personal shit or hidden garbage

It will either way help to reach the target

But then thoughts linger inside of me

That without the story, who is “she”?

If the only stories that dares to rise

Are the ones that wear a less dirty disguise

If a story of ass grabbing that you escape

Will be less problematic to share than rape

Then our target wont be at all as effected

And our world wont at all be as corrected

On the other hand, hey, are there levels in hell?

Or are experience subjective, an all over bad smell?

But in a forest of hashtags this is so related

To the topic that makes me so bloody frustrated

That all is for sale to a pop music sound

Attention is such a hungry hound

A part of this whole generations whine

Wave your hashtags and your sign!

This is what we want to read

The glorified stories while you still bleed

And there is a voice in me simply saying

“Im not surprised of what they are portraying”

Hey world - what the fuck do you expect?

Because last time I checked

We still lived in a patriarchal shit hole

And the comfortable ones wont take that stroll

Outside ignorance lane

They are are too dumb to gain

Any extra understanding from Hollywood actors

And give up their blame on biological factors

Seriously.

A man is scared to be called girl on this planet

It is considered provoking, they simply cant stand it

Because they already know being treated as fe-male

Is the fucking worst, it is a gender role jail

I want us all to feel proud, strong and massive

But what if these stories makes us even more passive?

Stories of rape and sexual abuse

Makes women lose power over their very own juice

It turns us to victims by stealing our sexuality

And drives us away from sexual normality

These patriarchal roots stretches so deep, it bother

Because this is a world where movies still pictures a father

Owning their daughters sexuality

There has never been such things as equality.

Reason to hate roller derby

I dont need to list the reasons to love

Why we reach behind, beyond and above

The fun in the sport, the joy that it brings

How we laugh and joke and even sing

No, the reasons to understand its worth

Is by knowing more of the painful birth

The shivering

delivering

Of a better version of yourself

Is not made from medals on a shelf

Is by knowing we do it despite what we hate

We try to create our very own fate

So let me tell you what I hate about derby

I despise that urinary smell of dirty

I hate the fact that skaters dont shower

After a game, when drunk of power

I hate the screams and random cheers

I hate late trainings and tired tears

I hate the fact that I live for short flashes

I hate that the rest of my hobbies bursts into ashes

I hate all the money I spent on this sport

I hate that Im not brave enough to deport

I hate when skaters say “were elite athletes”

But never go jogging down the streets

As if its to get respect from the other

Accnowledged sports whom really bother

I hate that I never have time for friends

I hate the fear of when it all ends

I hate the DIY thing with an organisation

How it gives an unprofessional foundation

I hate that skaters are expected to coach

Without experience or correct approach

I hate the lack of intellect

That theres only one way to really connect

To share the goal to win on track

Until your body is old, a broken wreck

I hate that we call this “alternative movement”

Instead of a group that needs serious improvement

Seen to promote equality and gender fairness

But lack of policies for discrimination awareness

I hate peoples ideas of what this sport really is

Some circus show with dramatic whiz

I hate the truth in what people think

The doubt in myself as I enter the rink

I hate the lack of long term investments

Of objective feedback and proper assessments

I hate that retired skaters are tired

That they have lost their helping desire

I hate the lack of policies

I hate the lack of apologies

I hate handing out flyers on a Sunday

That derby always gets in the way

I hate the commute from station to station

I hate the older derby generation

Their negative way to approach new suggestions

Without having a fair reply on our questions

I hate the online forum which makes no sense

I hate sloppy habits as the warm up commence

But mostly I hate when Im about to go under

When the heart start beating, loud as thunder

How this sport just grasp me by the soul

Overwhelmingly hot, at the same time cold

How it when I gear on just fills up inside

How the confidence rises with every stride

The feel of belonging on this very track

I hate that Ill do it until Im a wrack

How despite all the losses and sacrifice made

Any other way feels so full of shade

Make America great again

Trumpty Dumpty sat in his chair
With his lack of manners and yellow hair
He took up his mirror and checked his reflection
Turned on by his power he had an erection.
"Screw the opinions of all other nations
I won't be alive for future generations
The power is mine, oh hey oh boy
I have a long list of things to destroy"
His secretary typed very quickly ahead
As to forget last night in his bed
"Who really belives in those climate change issues?
Let Greenpeace cry in their recycled tissues.
Give way for pipeline, you native fool
Because money is what makes me drool."
Trump said and saliva dripped from his lips
As he continued to plan this apocalypse
"There aren't enough unwanted kids
Let's sell our moral for highest bids
I wish to erase scientific facts
The alternative ones will cover my tracks"
His white male colleagues laught as he spoke
As a part of this sad democratic joke
And Trump once again was met with applause
Everyone was excited to work for his cause

Graded

He kept his mouth shut as behaviour was graded
He adjusted the smile but his core slowly faded
Confidence lacked when he took selfie lane
Driving wreckless for likes, forgetting his brain
"The scariest people are the ones with views"
He laught and, on purpose, avoided the news
Expecting the houndreds to feel like close friends
As he reduced opinions and followed great trends
Never alone but with fear of lonely
He quickly got married to the one and only

Gadgets

Dear fortunate one with a mainstream passion
I see you with your taste for fashion
Your hunger when they say it's cool
For what they call a must-have-tool
A fitness watch it was last year
You gave up a week post gym premier
A Kodak moment you want this time
To get the best right at its' prime
You know how to turn that camera on
You feel like an art version of Don Juan
Without common sense or feeling for image
You ecstasy click with a narcissistic grimace
It's all out of focus and over exposed
You take eager selfies of your own toes
You blindly run the easiest way
You capture a sunset in nearest bay
You snap naked women and smiling kids
Then assume it will sell for the highest bids
Because in a time when anyone wins
You don't need a talent to spread your own wings

Happy holidays

Who cares about political correction
When most of us have that Christmas erection
I don't really know anyone who is jew
So why include, or think of the muslim view?
I don't know even how to spell Hanukkha
All my friends are named Victor or Monica
So I cheerfully put on my normative smile
And say "Merry Christmas" as a pure heterophile