Stripped down and naked
No layers for concealing
No snuggly jumper to cosy our feelings
No fleecy socks hiding our hard-skinned ideas
Nor tilted brimmed hats to shadow our tears

No more flower-printed skirting around the truths hemline
My stretch-marked mind pregnant with new ideas I’m aware of
And my mouth I pray birthing mostly words of compassion
And please God I’ll release them in most loving fashion

Stripped bare of the notions of both right and wrong
Fashion channel long switched off and alone with our song
No scarves to conceal any aging expressions
Nor gel-filled intentions to boost your impressions
Or fake Barbie pink sparkly acrylic-tipped gestures
To finish the look and enhance your perceptions

No kicked off blistering high-heeled opinions
Left to elevate my impact or trample my feelings

And when our mind is timed out from its hour-glass figure
And we’re apples or pears or something much bigger
There’s no point left in “on point” judgemental statements
We’ve no style-name or price tag we’re not bar-code enabled!
With no hashtag or logo to make us feel happy
We’ve peed them all straight into a designer nappy!

Yes the truth is now clear without Ted Baker glasses
No belt can cinch in this overwhelming awareness
Our “Designer’s” tag’s encoded in every cell
No need for a label, and too precious to sell

So let’s do a full cleanse of our internal wardrobe
De-fuzz all the fauz-fur thoughts we’ve held onto

With our hearts fully open and worn on our sleeve
Unzipped and uncorseted our spirit flies free
And undressed of synthetic material ideas
There can be no stretch lycra legging it back out from here

Because once we’ve been stripped of those layers of concealing
The naked low-cut truth is exposed and revealing
Nothing outside us will make us feel whole
For the guru, we find, is our own precious soul.

 

Poet:  Stephanie Moles

Copyright ©2015 Stephanie’s Poetry & Photography