Something isn’t right here – Candice Louisa Daquin

As a woman, you’re taught

To speak frankly, but not too loud

Consequences for girls are worse

So I learned

To whisper in a roar

And when I cried, I showed nobody

Using the tears as fertilizer

For my wild garden

I am not a person who believes cruel answers anything

why ruin someone just because you can? As a punchline?

once I was called ‘too nice’ and I am often referred to as ‘sweet’

which are probably both gentle character assassinations

I admit it is not so great being a gentle soul, because people admire

bitches, sarcasm, sass, verve (is that still a word?), spite, caustic(ism) and other

signs someone is strong, because if you are cruel

you are seen as hip in this society

even my neighbor likes it when we shoot the shit and she gets that

glassy-eyed affection for tearing people down and asks me all slurred and heady

why I never slag people off for fun

like it’s the equivalent of BBQ and book club

we covet the beast and drown the babe

when did being wicked get so hot?

Vanity Fair? Pride & Prejudice? Beowolf? The Bible?

I would if I could


to an island where

being kind wasn’t seen as boring

compassion wasn’t a character flaw

empathy was the dish du jour

(and you could still have a bloody mary before 4pm

come on, I never ran for saint-hood)

would it get tedious?

I don’t see why

I spend most of my life

plucking the back draft from others snide remarks

out of my fender and wondering when

it became such a thing to be an asshole

so much so we elected Presidents standing for rot

as if we need any more meanness in this world

is it the fall of Rome, Babel, or just the Kardashian?

something isn’t right here and I’d like

to get the fuck out now please


Just You-Introducing Dee (Yass Queen) Jackson


Anxiety the axe.
Hacking hearts
And minds
With a blade forged of fear and regret
Even breathing takes special skill
When overcome by the battling swords of stress
Your strength is your love.
Your crown is empathy.
Septer outta peace.
Jewels dug from humble mountains.
things don’t make real kings
Power isn’t derived from monetary earnings
Thrown into a lonely hole
The lowly king is no different than the proud pauper
It’s just you and your demons
The demons that come from within
Name thy demon and escape your cave
devil derived from what you think you lack
What you lack in fact is lack
Comfort in nothingness
Removes you from the less than civil society
Reverse the evil and live
Oh, just a letter away from love.

[Dee (Yass Queen) Jackson started writing poetry as therapy. She always wanted to be a novelist and then realized she had absolutely no fondness for grammar or punctuation or sentences or what’s a fragment?  Her love for writing poems was born. She has a profound interest and love for philosophy, French music, laughing through the tears and she makes an exceptionally decent veggie chili.]