In Stance, I am Singular by Jessica Ni Leacai

My voice, should it be a delicate vase,
of clear crystal, no sharp edges curved,
a ting chiming in man’s ears?

My thoughts, should they be non-theoretical,
of popular publishings, no substance there printed,
a simple sheet for man’s mind?

My persona, should it not be portrayed publicly,
of hidden agendas, no relevance of my actualities,
a display of blinds for man’s hypocrisy?

My beauty, should it be beratedly betrayed,
of women’s notions, no reasoning made necessary,
a mockery of my form for man’s inhibitions?

My soul, should it be forcefully stamped,
of passengers sailed, no returns en-route signified,
a record of castaways for man’s repudiation?

My heart, should it be pumped heedlessly,
of blood boiled, no harms seen bleeding,
a deficient freezer for man’s appetite?

My structure, should it be sans shape,
of lean ideal, no curvaceousness imminence,
a vessel vain for man’s acquirement?

My feet, should they be faintly faltering,
of grounds stood, no principles posed steadfast,
a pair pleasing for man’s vulgarity?

My eyes, should they not view emphatics,
of ironies entangled, no theatric crowds empathised,
a stage defiled for man’s enthrallment?
This poem can be read on


About jessienileacai

Irish speaker and artist. I love music, art, languages,literature, history, travel, photography, and comedy. I love Ireland, my heritage, the old ways and the beauty and people of this small island and its surrounding tiny islands
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