Incredible Slam Poetry Regarding Rape
"I am tired of hearing rape poems, the same way soldiers are tired of hearing their own guns go off. Believe me, we all wish the war was over, but friend you are staring out at a world on fire, complaining about how ugly you think the ashes are. The work is never pretty but it's the only way the house gets built. I'm sorry you don't want to look at my wreckage, but I have carpentry in my mouth, I have a hammer in my hands. You cannot stop me from building. I am going to be here, voice made from smolder, because this is my story & you cannot take this from me" (Brenna Twohy).
"When you do want a healing relationship, how do you talk about it when the language is rooting against you? Hey wanna bang, screw, nail me. Everything is so violent. How to flirt with a rape survivor: approach slowly & cautiously; do not make any suddeny movements or loud noises... Real men don't rape? Oh shit, must've been a ghost then. Consent is sexy? Lingerie is sexy. Consent is a basic human right... Humour helps trauma. We can joke about it because its ours to joke about similar to how our bruises are ours to poke at & yours to keep away from."
"In 1944, "I really can't stay" quickly turned to "say, what's in this drink." In less than 40 years, rape has been refined from punishable by death to qualifier--rape joke, rape song, rape scene. We teach our boys control: don't give in, don't be a pussy; take, take take. We teach our girls: I know you want it, don't scream, don't fight back; take it, take it, take it. Rape culture has civilized its salivation. We live in a country where it is tradition to take, custom to be predatory, where we elevate those who rape to fame & glory, spotlight their smiles & ignore their skeletons as we provide their paychecks. Victim has been redefined as slut, asking for it, liar, too drunk, too sloppy, not worth the investigation. Rape no longer only knows closed doors or dark alleyways. It is a staple of American culture.