quick like a rat, darkly cunning minx- with palpable wit
she sits in flames, burning
… passionately patient.
stalking in the shadows at night,
singing softly as she tweaks her mouse trap
‘I know where is an hind…
I know where is an hind…’
Continue reading “Lover”
The picture of defiance;
stood still and fair.
She, opulence born, declaring
‘Give me justice!’
to deaf ears
in streams of sober black velvet laced in pearls
Continue reading “Queen”
Soft, malleable, peachy;
that naughty babe was never innocent.
Barefoot, with lips dripping honey
flushing purposefully with the pinkness of her youth
Continue reading “Victim”
…possesses loose breasts,
a wobbly womb, unfavourable features
resembling an English mare etc;
And is therefore unfit to bulge my huge passion.
She read silently.
‘By my life, he could not get it up.’
‘Outcast’ is the third in a four-part poetry series based on four of Henry VIII’s wives, and inspired by Carol Ann Duffy’s ‘The World’s Wife’ (read more on this here). In ‘Outcast’ I explore the culpability assigned to the woman for Henry’s failure to consummate the marriage (which is historically true). Even with the 400+ year difference between now and then, this is a familiar situation in popular culture, and in the personal lives of women.
Here, she openly retaliates, and turns the accusation back on him: accusing him of a lack of virility. Henry was obsessed with portraying a strong image of manhood (one look at the projection of his codpiece in his most famous portrait is just one indicator of this), and so I played on this idea.