Day Nineteen: Ah HA....the electricity's back on

What I mean is, the light bulb went on - you know, the little one above your head that cartoonishly pings on when you have an idea, or a realization?

Mine went ping so many times the last two days that it broke. And how many writers does it take to change a light bulb? Well there are too many damn funny answers to that one...so I'll just say, in my case, it took one writer and one really pissed off muse.

Here was the prompt...

Visit last year’s prompt at ReadWritePoem. Then, list 3-5 lightbulb moments you’ve had in your lifetime. Is there a way to string them together in a single poem? Try it now.

While I didn't use the prompt COMPLETELY as it was given, I did decide to write on one particularly harsh light bulb moment that occurred recently.

Flip the switch....

The Horse is Black if You Please

my whole life
tales of damsels in distress
(or was it damsels in a dress?
I always forget which)
were told to me
as a gateway to happy dreams.

at the end of every
story
the knight rode in
on his (proverbial in most cases,
literal in few) white horse
to rescue the fair maiden
who, in reality,
could have rescued herself
had she simply been
confident in her own abilities
instead of conforming
to her society's rules
that state women
MUST be weak,
helpless, and grateful
once rescued
by said knight.

FUCK THAT.

Happy dreams?
that idealogoy has
caused me nothing but nightmares
in my personal life;
always looking to be rescued
by a strong man,
who needs nothing
from me.
one who can take care
of me,
one who can provide
me with the necessities
of life.

FUCK THAT.

the latest in this string
needs someone to care for him,
to release him from
his current lot in life.
He needs to be cuddled,
and coddled,
and told that all will be
ok if he just tries.
THIS ONE
needs rescuing,

And I no longer do.

I can provide ME with
the necessities of life,
I can take care of ME.
I am no longer conforming
to those story book ideals,
to those false happy endings.

I am banishing the nightmares,
and ridding myself
of the rescuer.

I am my own knight.

©2011