Sex-Workers Debate

The language itself is highly problematic and emotive. The use of the term “prostitute” is regarded as a denigrating word used for women who are forced into selling sex through poverty and exclusion, while the use of the term “sex worker” is seen as dignifying an activity which reflects and compounds women’s oppression.

Compose a poem through which you can support or oppose the subject and I will chose one winner from both the sides, i.e. two winners.

It just so happens my most recently posted poem is on the subject of street corner girls, though most of the "sex workers" are not on the streets. This would make a great debate thread in a non-poem thread as well. Since I did not write this poem for the contest, and it doesn't fit so much into a support or opposition box, I am not sure I should post it and do not think it should be considered for the contest. If you think it doesn't belong, I will delete it.
In this poem, it may help to know the bus stop was on the corner of State St and Swan. My street was accessed by Swan, Hawk and Eagle streets from State St.

"Un-stately Swans"

An eagle eyes an angel on the meaty side of town
Where the the ladies are awaiting to hawk their wares around
I see her strutting at the bus stop every evening
Work was long and oh how I could find comfort in her breathing
My first step down brings her sweet voice as candy to my ears
She asks me each evening but my response she never hears
Now if I was the only one, I'd have said "yes" long ago
I'd take her in and do the sin but my names's not John, I'm Joe
 
A winter snow with nowhere to go to get out of the cold
The bus slides to a stop, I get off to silence gone unsold
Surely you'll catch your death if you remain out in this storm
I ask if you'd like to sit by the fire, drink something warm
But you say he's watching and expects payment for the time
So I say send him my way to collect mine for his crime
It's his turn to pay for the rape built to enslave his con
Locked shackles bind you to this corner 'til he's dead and gone
 
Allow your mind to open the next chapter yet un-penned
Let my heart teach yours that beatings pulse is meant to mend
Let my touch bring feeling to the passion lost inside your heart
Let me walk you to a door that opens to a fresh start
Let me open your eyes where the future lies beyond
Let me free your hands of the oppression in those bonds
Let me set your feet free to walk through fields that know no fear
Let my voice say the words no mouth would ever let you hear
 
Let my feet carry you across the sunrise of a new day
Let me crack the dawn in lieu of spreading crack to lay
Let me show the light you shine is less red, fading into blues
Let me display the way to any path you choose
Let me assure you that he bears redundant blame
Let my arms comfort your soul and push away the shame
Let me lift the weight off your wings to see you carry on
Let the blade of the Knight come to free an un-stately swan


*This poem should not be considered for the contest. The two below, "When Everyone Got Paid" and "Where Are You Going? I've Seen Where You've Been!" are my official submissions.
jj

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I like this subject and if you wonder why, I would be so grateful indeed if you can go to  http://deepundergroundpoetry.com/poets/Grace/   Thank You.

Once, I was....

Blue sky, dotted with fleecy clouds
is above me
My back hard on the ground
A man on top of me
He pumps and humps
and at last he stops
Stood up and paid me
I walked away dollars clenched
In my dirty palms

Pretty flowers on a hedge
Blooming so red
I leaned against this fence
While he fucked
Me from the back
He shuddered and come
I got paid
I go home

School was good today
I got paid plenty
I paid the rent
I bought a pair of shoes
I paid for what I ate
I paid my school fees
Soon I will graduate

Better here than the home
Better here than my home
where pleasures taken
were nightmares given
These debts against life, accumulated
were never paid
Someday, perhaps, in this world
They will be paid in full.

This is one of my favorite topics!

Ethical Slut

I can sell my body
and still be a saint.
 
Men can tie me up
Hell, women can too,
but they'll never bound my freedom
my tongue
my virtue
 
So, I'll keep turning tricks
while you jut your noses to the sky.
 
Not a victim,
Nor the culprit.
I go by my own pace
Afterall it's my body; for me to dictate.
to dominate
to appreciate

Somewhere in her painted black eyes
is a 17 year old girl from Minnesota
whose stepfather used his hands too much
in too many ways
and the mom who couldn't stop it

she hides in doorways
cops would send her home
she'd rather be in jail
or dead
Honda Civic pulls up
she's got her 50 bucks maybe
so Reggie won't leave her to sleep
in her car tonight

this guy throws her to the bed
slicing through clothes and skin
fucking and punching through her soft shell
her life runs onto cheap hotel sheets
maybe she's still breathing
but he leaves her there
the maid can throw
what's left of her
in the trash
with the condom on the floor

and somewhere in those screaming corpse eyes
there is still a story
but her open mouth is silent
and save for what four walls can say
her story will remain
untold.

Oh my God...beautiful_accident...that is so real, its screamy real! Although this is a competition (I think) I still feel I should comment on that. Its awfully real.

the math of hooking

it takes
a certain amount of stupidity
to flip a burger
when you're perfectly capable
maybe even gifted
at sucking cock

$7.30 an hour
flipping burgers
in a grease suit
smelling like grease
and bacon
and you still can't pay
$1000 monthly rent
shitty studio hole
over an old lady
who smells like bug spray
and colostomy bag

but fifteen minutes
fifteen minutes worth of
good head
makes you $100
pay the rent in
two and a half hours
sure, your jaw's sore
it tests your morals
your parents won't approve
but when you look in the mirror
then on the corner
in an honest moment you realize
we're all fucking whores

"When Everyone Got Paid"

We've got this economy that sucks more than corner whores
Taxes collected don't add up to the garbage on our shores
There's more blow jobs per hour than jobs employers can hand out
If disease was not a problem, I might self-employ and put some out

So why not pay for bridges to get fixed legally on our knees
When the owner of the body is the one who holds the keys?
Health care all for free to make it safe for both rich and poor
No more pimps or madams in control of the revolving door

Politicians would not need to keep secret their dirty secret lives
Well, at least they'd only have to keep them secret from their wives
I am willing to bet there would be so much money to be made
I could lose the bet and still have plenty left to go get laid

Fewer criminals saves the cost to incarcerate so many Johns
While those enslaved for sex would be free to become moms
The end of auctioning bodies to start bidding on E-Bay
When the lady of the evening can finally keep her pay

Where do hookers disappear when they become too old
Is Jesus there that fateful day to save what they have sold?
And who could throw a stone on another fateful day
When Jesus told the sinners to look inside and walk away?

JJ Johnson
10/12/11

*Something felt missing and the last stanza just came out. It suddenly feels completely different now. 10/14/11 jj

"Where Are You Going? I've Seen Where You've Been!"

Where are you going and where have you been?
You've learned nothing at all from all that you've seen
You don't care who you hurt, you don't know what love means
Ain't it funny how life never is as it seems?

You've been hurt and now you ignore the pain
So many times you think you're going insane
There's no way to stop it now, no end to your game
And one day you'll know there's no one else you can blame

With all of your lies and the way that you flew
It's hard to believe you're the girl that I knew
With the life that you've led and with all you've been through
Did you ever wonder what'll become of you?

My fine feathered lover, watch out, beware
Your flight path is less a circle than a square
You've turned all the sharpest corners and cut them all clean
Tell me, where are you going and where have you been?

You used to be such an innocent girl
Your beauty once shined like the whitest of pearls
You love to get sun-tanned while laying on the lawn
But now it is raining and your color's all gone

You'll find yourself living out in the street
Then a pimp will find you and you'll kiss his feet
He'll use you and sell you till you're no good anymore
Then you'll realize what you've become is a whore

Where are you going? I've seen where you've been
Now you've spread your legs and let them all in
Do you know what you're doing? I think it's a sin
But you'll keep on doing it again and again

You dance around like a sweet high class queen
You're sleeping habits are completely obscene
Burning your sheets has become a daily routine
I wonder where you're going, I've seen where you've been

JJ Johnson

I see some of the entries in the members libraries, is it ok to post these poems in our own libraries before the contest is over?

JJ

This competition is due to end 4th November 2011 7:30am.

Just what exactly are you doing here
A nice girl like you
And just what am i doing
I fuck love
You fuck money
So I’d just like to talk to you
Despite your absence
Your mind has taken a vacation
Drifting off on the aroma
Of sweet
Sweaty clients

So what is it that you’re doing here
And now what the fuck am i doing
Were both trapped
And while I fuck hate
You fuck misery
Though
You are absent
As you climb up upon me
And further still
Purchasing and plying ascending branches
Right up into my tree
Dancing out on the fragile limbs of your mind

I lay down two hundred
Shards of your soul
And leave
I wont be coming back

since its so close 2 halloween....lol

"Trick or Treat"
by:  Eric L. Boddie

Many turn tricks to get the treats
In bathroom stalls....on the back of big body seats
To acquire the greatest pleasure that the body can seek
Why does the flavor of the candy have to be so sweet
Why does it awaken the depths of your Soul before it puts you to sleep
And its best flavor has to be freak
But you should leave that one at home, it's not made for the streets
That flavor says "Warning:  You must be discreet!
For best results, serve with only one meat."
Otherwise, it's musical chairs, one day you'll be the one still on your feet
And I know it is hard because even I am addicted to the skeet
I mean, I have been known to cause a few panties to leak
But I'm a pretty good cook, I'm particular about what I eat
I mean, you can't serve it raw because salmanila runs deep
And I am not a trick, I don't pay, but if you become my treat
I will put the world at your disposal every morning of every week

I stare
at the steamed glass holding me from freedom,
the gas chamber of my heart,
pumping, ever pumping
more semen
to polish the sides
and crumple the innards.
I'm left the stagnant butterfly,
the elegant china doll
with one eye missing,
her skirt ripped and no choice
but to shut up and put up.
I stare
at the steamed glass holding me from freedom,
the gas chamber of my heart,
pumping, ever pumping
more semen
to earn my craze,
to keep me safe.

Awesome entries so far. I am afraid to read them all by now as I am lil bit busy these days. But then I really would like to read more from many more of you. Pls Continue.