They say she’s a cold queen
Who’s murdered bold kings and said cold things
Freezes hearts to death and goes and counts her gold rings
In a castle filled with ice, strife and spot lights
That doesn’t melt a drop on hot nights
it can’t be cracked, broken, chopped or sliced
And then she cracks grins as she clutches her wand tight
To cast spells upon herself to turn her heart to solid, rock ice
On a college campus, inking out enough space for her
To fall into 3 social categories:
Prude, Slut, or Bitch; she doesn’t comply with this
So they call her a cold queen. Cause she does her own thing
Doesn’t treat sex like a weekend routine,
And has the confidence and common sense
To not put up with being treated like an object by the male populous,
With a beauty as obvious as her mouth is honest
To tell you you’re on an ego trip and you need to get the fuck off it,
I mean, good goddess.
She stands out like the oddest, with strength of the strongest
Gets more pissed than my mom gets
Refused to be modest for the sake of being real,
And she’s all up in my system like a bong hit.
Actually, that’s complete bullshit,
I’ve never smoked anything in my life
But after I first met her and told all my friends
I was gonna write a really really great slam poem about her
I could have swore I was high
My eyes soaked with courage, pouring from her presence,
Saturated to this day, which is why
I still address this message in honor of such a bold woman
Who can even defy the sun when it gets jealous
And calls upon a tempest in efforts to wash away
Her bright, captivating, cloudless complexion.
But it can’t happen
Cause she’s got the muscle of Mt. Everest
So she walks away unscathed throwing on her black leather jacket
Over the broad shoulders that extend out like two cliffs
Holding up her hair from swinging like her two fists
Whenever guys start grabbing and are making sexual comments
And they still call her a cold queen
Like my dad would call my mom lazy and worthless,
He would forget to thank her a lot but
He always remembered to let her know that
Her job at the hospital as a nurse is worthless
Ten years. My mother’s mind battered with verbal abuse
From my father until one day she woke up and left him
Now this gallant and benevolent single mother,
Still puts up with long distance phone calls
From him calling her a bad mother
Like my friend Carina would put up with her boyfriend
Beating her down to bruises, blemishes and abrasions
I said Carina if he doesn’t STOP, I’M GONNA MAKE HIM.
She was like ‘no… we’re getting married’
My heart sank and then the tears came
Cause I know Carina wasn’t gonna leave him
No matter how much blood he would take it was too late,
too late,
too late,
too late.
Like for a friend of mine who woke up one Sunday morning
To find out she had been raped
So shocked, she couldn’t enunciate
Hate to say, of late, I’ve been loosing faith
I can’t figure out if this poem is bullshit male guilt,
Or me trying to tell this queen
That I care and pray none of this shit she should ever have to face
And I know I can’t relate
But I’m trying real hard to understand.
And if I ever, ever hear another person call you a cold queen again,
I’m gonna have to protest it.
Saying, “watch your mouth little boy, she’s a bold queen.
Well respected, like a street empress,
So you should show some respect
Cause even the street lights on University Ave
Are bowing at her entrance.”
If you don’t like her, it’s because you don’t know who you are
And she stands out because she knows who she is.
Proving true when it was said
‘Woman is the name of God, on all lips.’
