I read your poem about the parallels between Salome from the Bible and Kim Kardashian and I absolutely love it! The imagery and the message were conveyed very nicely ;) However, the last line of the poem really irritates me. Salome asked for the head of John the Baptist because her MOTHER wanted her to ask for it. John the Baptist never hurt her.

Asked by thecaptainsandthekings

Hey! I’ve answered this question before, but it bears repeating.

In the Bible, Salome only asks for the head of John the Baptist because her mother asked her too. That’s true. However, Salome is one of the fascinating Biblical characters who has taken on an entire myth that is nowhere in the scripture. She only appears in the Bible twice, Matthew 14:6-11 and Mark 6:21-29. That’s 13 lines total, all it says is that that the daughter of Herodias danced, and it pleased Herod.

The dance of the seven veils and almost everything else we associate with Salome is from the play Salome written by Oscar Wilde, which was then turned into an opera by Richard Strauss. In that story, Salome seeks revenge when John the Baptist spurns her affections. In the finale of the opera, she takes his severed head and kisses it.

Given that most of what we associate with Salome is not in the Bible, I felt it was fine to use the story for which she was most known.

P.S. For anyone curious, the poem is here.

It’s funny, how when women are ugly they are mocked for it, but when women perfect the art of makeup, skin, nails and beauty they are mocked for that too. It’s almost like if you’re a woman you’re mocked no matter what you do. Me? I sell makeup. I sell confidence. I sell gorgeous door to door.

They say Michelangelo painted the Sistine Chapel with paintbrushes no bigger than his finger, but could he paint a masterpiece on his face, at seven in the morning, with his daughter pulling on his skirt, and his husband hollering about how breakfast is late, and only 20 minutes to get everyone off to school? It’s funny, how when men create beauty it’s a masterpiece and when a woman creates beauty it’s just what she’s supposed to be

Me? I sell new beginnings. I sell a blank canvas, and your own brushes, and your own paint. I sell the chance to be your own greatest creation.

Letter from Mary Kay, by Clementine von Radics

When you are 13 years old,
the heat will be turned up too high
and the stars will not be in your favor.
You will hide behind a bookcase
with your family and everything left behind.
You will pour an ocean into a diary.
When they find you, you will be nothing
but a spark above a burning bush,
still, tell them
Despite everything, I really believe people are good at heart.

When you are 14,
a voice will call you to greatness.
When the doubters call you crazy, do not listen.
They don’t know the sound
of their own God’s whisper. Use your armor,
use your sword, use your two good hands.
Do not let their doubting
drown out the sound of your own heartbeat.
You are the Maid of Untamed Patriotism.
Born to lead armies into victory and unite a nation
like a broken heart.

When you are 15, you will be punished
for learning too proudly. A man
will climb onto your school bus and insist
your sisters name you enemy.
When you do not hide,
he will point his gun at your temple
and fire three times. Three years later,
in an ocean of words, with no apologies,
you will stand before the leaders of the world
and tell them your country is burning.

When you are 16 years old,
you will invent science fiction.
The story of a man named Frankenstein
and his creation. Soon after you will learn
that little girls with big ideas are more terrifying
than monsters, but don’t worry.
You will be remembered long after
they have put down their torches.

When you are 17 years old,
you will strike out Babe Ruth and Lou Gehrig
one right after the other.
Men will be afraid of the lightening
in your fingertips. A few days later
you will be fired from the major leagues
because “Girls are too delicate to play baseball”

You will turn 18 with a baby on your back
leading Lewis and Clark
across North America.

You will turn 18 
and become queen of the Nile.

You will turn 18 
and bring justice to journalism.

You are now 18, standing on the precipice,
trembling before your own greatness.

This is your call to leap.

There will always being those
who say you are too young and delicate
to make anything happen for yourself.
They don’t see the part of you that smolders.
Don’t let their doubting drown out the sound
of your own heartbeat.

You are the first drop of a hurricane.
Your bravery builds beyond you. You are needed
by all the little girls still living in secret,
writing oceans made of monsters and
throwing like lightening.

You don’t need to grow up to find greatness.
You are stronger than the world has ever believed you to be.
The world laid out before you to set on fire.
All you have to do
is burn.

For Teenage Girls With Wild Ambition and Trembling Hearts, Clementine von Radics

31 poems in 31 days.

I leave for a short Europe tour in 31 days, and I’m going to post a poem every day leading up to that trip.

This year I’ve had a lot of trouble writing, particularly finishing poems. I think I need to get over myself, and just get back in the habit of writing everyday and posting as much as I can. 

A lot of these poems will be first drafts, or not quite in their finished form, but they’ll be posted daily, I promise.