Crow and the Pornographic Gaze by Sara Wright

Once she believed that
it was her fault
they came on to her,
that she owed them
something…
They owned her?
Secretly the
girl was pleased
because any kind of attention
was better than none,
or being so “different” –
stitched into an Indian skin.

She was a pretty shell,
an abandoned spiral
worn down by waves –
assaulted from within
by the pornographic gaze.
How she hated being young.

Walking down the streets
of New York
They leered at her from rooftops –
Whistling and yelling,
“Here comes the Madonna…”
She tried to make herself invisible.
How she hated being young.

When she sewed on her woman coat
she discarded tight jeens,
began to weave her hair in braids,
became a scholar and writer,
turned to the animals
and plants that loved her
to find acceptance and trust.

Unconditional love
assuaged the isolation
the void in psyche and body
where once no one breathed.
How could she have known
that Nature would save her?

Learning self-respect
is a life-time process.
As an elder,
she has broken
the spell –
toppled the edifice of
the
pornographic gaze.

She knows it’s
an ‘old boy’ problem –
a result of male privilege
bullying, a need to objectify,
chop women
into parts
behind closed doors.

Dirty old men
who stare at standing nipples,
hidden beneath a feathery cloak
leave only night chills
and a hoarse croak.

Revolted, she discards them,
and picks the bones clean.
She has the power
to render her tormentors
Invisible,
Inadequate, and knows it.

She leans
towards males
who are emotional adults,
men who are accountable,
men capable of honest relationship,
men whose deep humility
has rendered them human.

Their friendship,
respect for her integrity,
ideas, honesty, and empathy,
are the lenses through
which she has learned to see herself.

She is healing from sexual assault.

She is a tree with a star at her center.

By living a self-directed life,
She has become the partner
she once longed for –
a birdwoman with tree roots
sunk deep
in our ground,
this fertile Earth.

Postscript: I feel as if I am emerging from a deadly trance brought on by the monster who took over the White House and made it his own for four intolerable years. It seems to me that every aspect of this man reflects the pornographic gaze that has stolen our woman souls and bodies. Only now with 71 days left of his reign of terror is he being rendered impotent.

Last night I laughed when I heard Joe Biden’s response to t’s tantrums. He said something to the effect that t’s behavior was an embarrassment – not a positive legacy for him to leave behind. Joe Biden’s attitude towards Trump helps break “ the spell.” He reduces him to an annoyance and refuses to give the man credence, attention, or the power the man so craves. This return to normalcy is heartening. Maybe we have a chance.

Sara is a naturalist, ethologist ( a person who studies animals in their natural habitats) (former) Jungian Pattern Analyst, and a writer. She publishes her work regularly in a number of different venues and is presently living in Maine.

Author: Sara Wright

I am a writer and naturalist who lives in a little log cabin by a brook with my two dogs and a ring necked dove named Lily B. I write a naturalist column for a local paper and also publish essays, poems and prose in a number of other publications. View all posts by Sara Wright