I loved that song (thought it was about me when I was 15) until I heard he wrote it to his wife, before running off with a super-model.

When I Am an Old Woman I Shall Wear Purple
When I am an old woman, I shall wear purple
with a red hat that doesn't go, and doesn't suit me.
And I shall spend my pension on brandy and summer gloves
and satin candles, and say we've no money for butter.
I shall sit down on the pavement when I am tired
and gobble up samples in shops and press alarm bells
and run my stick along the public railings
and make up for the sobriety of my youth.
I shall go out in my slippers in the rain
and pick the flowers in other people's gardens
and learn to spit.
You can wear terrible shirts and grow more fat
and eat three pounds of sausages at a go
or only bread and pickles for a week
and hoard pens and pencils and beer nuts and things in boxes.

But now we must have clothes that keep us dry
and pay our rent and not swear in the street
and set a good example for the children.
We must have friends to dinner and read the papers.
But maybe I ought to practice a little now?
So people who know me are not too shocked and surprised
When suddenly I am old, and start to wear purple.

Jenny Joseph

(I know this has been posted before, but it's an old favourite.)

To me, the most shocking thing about that poem was that my Mum sent it to me by email, as a new discovery. I'd pinned it up on the kitchen notice board about 5 years previously. But it was poetry, and probably in the way of important telephone numbers and appointments. Once she got onto email, everything was worth forwarding.

It also made me smile that she thought it would make me think of her.
Errrr - no.
In a narcissistic way it made me think of me.
After getting divorced (SHOCK!) I became quite brazen in public.
If you're on the fringes of decent society you lose the need to care.

AIN'T I A WOMAN?

by Sojourner Truth


Delivered 1851 at the Women's Convention in Akron, Ohio

Well, children, where there is so much racket there must be something out of kilter. I think that 'twixt the negroes of the South and the women at the North, all talking about rights, the white men will be in a fix pretty soon. But what's all this here talking about?

That man over there says that women need to be helped into carriages, and lifted over ditches, and to have the best place everywhere. Nobody ever helps me into carriages, or over mud-puddles, or gives me any best place! And ain't I a woman? Look at me! Look at my arm! I have ploughed and planted, and gathered into barns, and no man could head me! And ain't I a woman? I could work as much and eat as much as a man - when I could get it - and bear the lash as well! And ain't I a woman? I have borne thirteen children, and seen most all sold off to slavery, and when I cried out with my mother's grief, none but Jesus heard me! And ain't I a woman?

Then they talk about this thing in the head; what's this they call it? [member of audience whispers, "intellect"] That's it, honey. What's that got to do with women's rights or negroes' rights? If my cup won't hold but a pint, and yours holds a quart, wouldn't you be mean not to let me have my little half measure full?

Then that little man in black there, he says women can't have as much rights as men, 'cause Christ wasn't a woman! Where did your Christ come from? Where did your Christ come from? From God and a woman! Man had nothing to do with Him.

If the first woman God ever made was strong enough to turn the world upside down all alone, these women together ought to be able to turn it back , and get it right side up again! And now they is asking to do it, the men better let them.

Obliged to you for hearing me, and now old Sojourner ain't got nothing more to say.

On the other side, here's a sexist song, but that's OK because it's from the rather satirical musical Bye Bye Birdie, which is set in 1958.

When you're a skinny child of fourteen,
Wide with braces from ear to ear,
You doubt that you will ever be appealing.
Then Hallelujah! You are fifteen
And the braces disappear
And your skin is smooth and clear
And you have that happy grown-up female feeling.
How lovely to be a woman,
The wait was well worth while;
How lovely to wear mascara
And smile a woman's smile.
How lovely to have a figure,
That's round instead of flat;
Whenever you hear boys whistle,
You're what they're whistling at.
It's wonderful to feel
The way a woman feels;
It gives you such a glow just to know
You're wearing lipstick and heels!
How lovely to be a woman
And have one job to do;
To pick out a boy and train him
And then when you are through,
You've made him the man you want him to be!
Life's lovely when you're a woman like me!
How wonderful to know
The things a woman knows;
How marvelous to wait for a date
In simply beautiful clothes!
How lovely to be a woman
And change from boys to men,
To go to a fancy nightclub
And stay out after ten.
How lovely to be so grown-up and free!
Life's lovely when you're a woman like me!

The only glow I've had from wearing heels is the glow of extreme pain.
And blisters.
But to be fair, I get those with any shoes.

Man's got his woman to take his seed
He's got the power
She's got the need
She spends her life through pleasing up her man
She feeds him dinner or anything she can

She cries alone at night too often
He smokes and drinks and don't come home at all

Only women bleed

Man makes your hair gray
He's your life's mistake
All you're really lookin' for is an even break

He lies right at you
You know you hate this game
He slaps you once in a while and you live and love in pain

She cries alone at night too often
He smokes and drinks and don't come home at all

Only women bleed

(What do you expect from Alice Cooper in the 70's anyway?)

On these my bad days, I do so agree. However I a burned and bound by what I am and neither will nor wish nor blade can change that.

I'd be a man before I was genderless.
But I'd be a gay man.
I'm too fabulous to be anything else.

quit writing such quotable tag lines!!

;)

Why can't a woman teach the English how to speak?

"Hello, may I speak to Barbara? Barbara, this is Shirley
You might not know who I am but the reason I am calling you is because
I was going through my old man's pockets this morning
And I just happened to find your name and number"

"So woman to woman, I don't think it's being
Any more than fair to call you and let you know where I'm coming from
Now Barbara, I don't know how you're gonna take this
But whether you be cool or come out of a bag on me"

"You see it doesn't really make any difference
But it's only fair that I let you know that
The man you're in love with he's mine
From the top of his head to the bottom of his feet"

"The bed he sleeps in and every piece of food he eats
You see I make it possible
The clothes on his back, ha ha, I buy them
The car he drives, I pay the note every month"

"So I'm telling you these things to let you know
How much I love this man
And woman to woman I think you'll understand
Just how much I'll do to keep him"

Woman to woman, if you've ever been in love
Then you know how I feel
And woman to woman, now if you were in my shoes
Wouldn't you have done the same thing too?

Woman to woman, can't you see where I'm coming from?
Woman to woman, ain't that the same thing you would have done?
Woman to woman, now should I dare step aside
And let her take what's rightfully mine?

Woman to woman, was I right or was I wrong?
I ain't gonna let you break up my happy home
Now, woman to woman, now you see I don't want no trouble now
I hope you understand, I love that man and he's mine

I'm talking to you woman to woman
You should be woman enough to understand
That man, I love that man, woman, woman
Woman to woman, he's mine and I ain't gonna give him up
No baby and I ain't lyin' now
The best of me I give to my man

Ooooh, ooooh
Witchay woman
See how high she flies

It's the Thai stick