English, asked by mdumarMd2093, 6 hours ago

critical appreciation of the woman the boy became written by kae tempest

Answers

Answered by martinthomas02007
0

Answer:

"Born more brawn than most, Born warm. Born close to ghosts. Born storm. Born old. Grew young. You could tell she wasn't from The same place as the rest, Born strong. Born wrong.

Answered by tiwariakdi
0

Answer:

By Kate Tempest, 2015, England. *Kate is a spoken word poet, see links at end for her performance.

Born more brawn than most,

Born warm.

Born close to ghosts.

Born storm.

Born old.

Grew young.

You could tell she wasn’t from

The same place as the rest,

Born strong.

Born wrong.

She grew.

Growing is what anyone would do.

Given the particulars

She knew what she knew

She was ridiculous.

Born too smart and too dumb.

Born to hold the world under her tongue.

Don’t swallow yet.

She felt

All the things that others didn’t feel,

Or if they did,

They did a lot to conceal what the feelings were.

She felt skies and bricks and rain.

She felt it all

It made her fall

And weep beneath a crawling dawn

When everything was ruined; torn.

She felt ill.

But she felt still.

How many yous have you been?

How many,

Lined up inside,

Each killing the last?

How many times have you

Seen yourself change,

Felt yourself splitting in half?

When does it happen? There in the moment?

Or when you look back and say

– that’s when my changing began?

Born hero.

Born freak. Born weirdo.

Born blind.

Born seeing.

Born man.

She stands.

The hillside beneath her is crumbling.

The sky frowns.

The land wants to return to the sea.

She is food for the gulls and it’s humbling.

But this is not all

That she was born to be.

All of the things in her life that have happened.

All of the changes.

All of the strangers.

All of the nights and the days in her heart

Have been present since the start.

You don’t learn.

You remember.

Born with it all in your chest.

Born first.

Learn last.

Burn fast like paper

Unless you’re wet logs.

Wet dogs shelter in her caves when they get lost.

Howl with her.

She has been touched without asking.

Punched by a madman.

Drunk in a bad town.

When she puts her hands down

And feels what’s beneath

She feels all the grief

Of the world.

Lay a wreath

For the girls.

She will march

Till she feels the tarmac respond.

She will die for our wrongs.

We won’t notice.

She is fire

And sleet and granite,

Space rock shattering the planet.

She wants to stop it spinning in its tracks like a dumb child.

She will be prophet one day.

For a moment

She soaks up all that she can

She will own it

This filthy body this life

The dethronement of all that was precious

In favour of all that is tepid.

Opponents mean nothing. She’s Titan.

Born of the first breed.

Born in the last days.

Frightened of nothing that bleeds.

The more that you hate her

The less that she needs.

All of her childhood passed in a flash

When she woke on her back in a clearing.

Time to be me now.

How many yous will you carry,

Weeping and desperate to marry?

How many yous will you churn out?

Turn out the light for the night.

She has burned out but she’ll be alright.

She is coming up.

Child of her time.

Red morning.

Blood on the tips of the thorns,

And the awning is dripping

With all of our scorn. We were born in

Days that will fill you with porn and with boredom

Grey little faces march in the squadron to warsongs

Penned by cynical fiends,

The latest big hit that cements the routine.

Sell us the download.

And kill all our dreams.

She rises.

She will see through the disguises.

They stab knives in her thighs.

See the swell of her iris?

She survives.

She will run till the cities are vanquished.

And all the children are gods again.

Explanation:

Born more brawn than most,

Born warm.

Born close to ghosts.

Born storm.

Born old.

Grew young.

You could tell she wasn’t from

The same place as the rest,

Born strong.

Born wrong.

She grew.

Growing is what anyone would do.

Given the particulars

She knew what she knew

She was ridiculous.

Born too smart and too dumb.

Born to hold the world under her tongue.

Don’t swallow yet.

She felt

All the things that others didn’t feel,

Or if they did,

They did a lot to conceal what the feelings were.

She felt skies and bricks and rain.

She felt it all

It made her fall

And weep beneath a crawling dawn

When everything was ruined; torn.

She felt ill.

But she felt still.

How many yous have you been?

How many,

Lined up inside,

Each killing the last?

How many times have you

Seen yourself change,

Felt yourself splitting in half?

When does it happen? There in the moment?

Or when you look back and say

– that’s when my changing began?

Born hero.

Born freak. Born weirdo.

Born blind.

Born seeing.

Born man.

She stands.

The hillside beneath her is crumbling.

The sky frowns.

The land wants to return to the sea.

She is food for the gulls and it’s humbling.

But this is not all

That she was born to be.

All of the things in her life that have happened.

All of the changes.

All of the strangers.

All of the nights and the days in her heart

Have been present since the start.

You don’t learn.

You remember.

Born with it all in your chest.

Born first.

Learn last.

Burn fast like paper

Unless you’re wet logs.

Wet dogs shelter in her caves when they get lost.

Howl with her.

She has been touched without asking.

Punched by a madman.

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