SVBEEV

Gyno-

Sometimes some people are born with dismay,

Of Aphrodite as chromosomes say.

Forced to live life with long hair and soft skin;

Such pretty dresses that stop at the shin.

Hera, the mother of all gods above,

Hear my soft pleas and make me not a dove!

Peacocks instead might be preferable:

Males are so bright yet the females are dull.

“Why,” you might ask, “would you want such a fate?”

Well, to be bright is not really that great:

Ev’ryone staring day-in and day-out

Shouting the moment I started to pout.

Sorry; but I am not endlessly prim!

I will not live for a stupid male whim.

I exist for my own reasons, you see—

Always so busy, a hard-working bee.

Goddess of Love has me living a lie

Without respect when I struggle and cry.

Surely my plight is not really that bad:

Boundless attention? I ought to be glad!

Maybe it’s true my life isn’t so cruel,

And to complain makes me simply a fool.

Life’s been so easy since it first began,

Oh, I should just try becoming a man.

Andro-

Now Hermes is my patron god,

That god of thieves and stolen things,

Of herdsmen, heralds, tricksters too,

Oft carried on his sandals’ wings.

Oh joy! I’m taken at my word

When I make claims of having thoughts,

And if I speak I’m taken straight,

My words won’t twist in senseless knots.

To gain respect I needn’t fret,

It’s easy won with strength, you see—

Of mind or body, either works—

And people never pester me

To dress up nice and change my face.

No: now I only need to claim

One sophomoric lunacy

(Though when I’m wrong, don’t give me blame!

Instead give fault to all the world

Which dares to disagree with men;

Oh Gaea, you beloved fool

Create the laws of life again.

For men created after them

Believe these rules not to suffice

They’d sooner die than cede their truth

To silly things that govern life).

And now I know those men were wrong

(Those ones who said their lives were hard):

It’s harder still to be a girl

Whom all will quickly disregard.

Neutro-

Now, Hermaphroditus, I relate

To your plight of cruel, sadistic fate.

I am not a woman nor a man;

Both of us defy that simple plan.

True: I like to weave ‘til sunset’s dawn,

Pulling string until the thread is drawn

Through the fabric which conveys a thought

Of those heroes and freak things they’ve fought.

Stories that are told before my time

Told again, and ev’ry time they rhyme:

Whether it’s with colors or with words

Symmetry resembles young Love’s birds.

Yarn is writ with care into a song;

Words are weaved to tapestries along.

Feminine pursuits absorb my mind;

Masculine command with ev’ry line.

Plato has a soulmate’s origin

Saying we were once these four-armed men:

Women, born from soft and fruitful Earth;

Blazing Sun to willful Men gave birth;

To the Androgynes the Moon gave breath.

Zeus, of course, grew weary, called for death

Of these strong and happy eight-limbed pests;

With his lightning bolt he split their chests.

Lovers now without half of their whole,

Seek the one who complements their soul.

I suspect that Zeus was off his mark

When he split my ancestor apart,

For he did not make one simple pair

One of sturdy man and woman fair:

No, he made a soul that lives confused

One that has a body it’s refused.

Who will be the patron god of I,

Living with a gender odd and wry?

Who can alter woman turned to man,

Turn her—him—them—into someone grand?

Woe, Hermaphroditus, what say you,

Born from lovers bound to one from two?

Take on more than those born in-between;

Be the god for us who are not keen

On these silly genders we’re assigned

Based on just our bodies, not our minds.

I am more than anyone can see: