Its International Womens Day today. To celebrate I share this poem to every women who has ever had someone say to them (even if that someone was themselves) Who do you think you are?!? Remember the answer always is.... The Queen of Sheba!! Go out and be the best version of yourself!! All of us at W.O.W (Women of the World) ~ Unite with Nikki Turner are routing for you to!! The Queen of Sheba Scotland, you have invoked her name just once too often in your Presbyterian living rooms. Shes heard, yea even unto heathenish Arabia your vixens bark of poverty, come down the family like a lang neb, a thrawn streak, a wally dug you never liked but cant get shot of. Shes had enough. Shes come. Whit, tae this dump? Yes! She rides the first camel of a swaying caravan from her desert sands to the peat and bracken of the Pentland hills across the fitba pitch to the thin mirage of the swings and chute; scattered with glass. Breathe that steamy musk on the Curriehill Road, not mutton-shanks boiled for broth, nor the chlorine stink of the swimming pool where skinny girls accuse each other of verrucas. In her bathhouses women bear warm pot-bellied terracotta pitchers on their laughing hips. All that she desires, whatever she asks She will make the bottled dreams of your wee lassies look like sweeties. Spangles scarcely cover her gorgeous breasts, hanging gardens, jewels, frankincense; more voluptuous even than Vi-next-door, whose high-heeled slippers keeked from dressing gowns like little hooves, wee tails of pink fur stuffed in the cleavage of her toes; more audacious even than Currie Liz who led the gala floats through the Wimpey scheme in a ruby-red Lotus Elan before the Boys Brigade band and the Brownies borrowed coal-truck; hair piled like candy-floss; who lifted her hands from the neat wheel to tinkle her fingers at her tricks among the Masons and the elders and the police. The cool black skin of the Bible couldnt hold her, nor the atlas green on the kitchen table, you stuck with thumbs and split to fruity hemispheres - yellow Yemen, Red Sea, Ethiopia. Stick in with the homework and youll be cliver like yer faither, but no too cliver no above yersel. See her lead those great soft camels widdershins round the kirk-yaird, smiling as she eats avocados with apostle spoons shell teach us how. But first she wants to strip the willow she desires the keys to the National Library she is beckoning the lasses in the awestruck crowd... Yes, wed like to clap the camels, to smell the spice, admire her hairy legs and bonny wicked smile, we want to take PhDs in Persian, be vice to her president: we want to help her ask some Difficult Questions shes shouting for our wisest man to test her mettle: Scour Scotland for a Solomon! Sure enough: from the back of the crowd someone growls: whae do you think yur? and a thousand laughing girls and she draw our hot breath and shout THE QUEEN OF SHEBA! -- Kathleen Jamie
Posted on: Fri, 07 Mar 2014 15:00:18 +0000
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