© Rae Dosoo 2014
Rae Dosoo asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work. All rights reserved. No part of this can be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior permission of Rae Dosoo.
In love with Stereotype
In love with the colours Black and White
There is no in-between
No such thing as Black+White=Grey,
Not in their minds at least
No such thing as contemporary colours
In their world only primary colours exist
No such thing as tones, shades, tints
No such thing as dots, spots, stripes, waves or spirals
No such thing as an inverted triangle,
A triangle stands upright and has three equal sides
No such thing as a rectangle,
It’s a square with four perfect sides
No such thing as odd numbers,
Even numbers must only exist
2, 4, 6, 8, 10, 12, 14…
In their minds, doors can never be opened,
Doors are always shut
Each door is named and every type of hinge must fit into its own door
One door for Door 1, One door for Door 2, One Door for Door 3
The Door never opens,
It has its own specific thoughts for a specific group
Playing stereotypes games,
Waiting for her
To toss the diamond dice,
Perfect Clarity, Perfect Cut, Perfect Colour and Perfect Carat
Behind this dice lies dirt, greed, tweaking, materialism, blood and lost lives
Magazine pages ripped,
Stuck onto a collage of just pretty little women,
Perfect Size, Perfect Eyes, Perfect Hair, Perfect Bottom and Perfect Breasts
We feed this stereotype all day long,
We Say it’s unhealthy yet
Many still are in love with this stereotype diet
The Sun brings light and The Moon is in darkness
The Morning arises and The Night sleeps
This is all so expected
The Sun doesn’t act like The Moon and The Morning is not The Night
Yet if we said The Moon is The Sun, the Moon will act like The Sun
Yet if we told The Sun you are The Moon,
Wouldn’t it appear in the day with a glistening white light?
Full Sun, Half Sun and Total Solar Eclipse
This is a held, fixed and oversimplified view of The Sun
Minds being caged in a prison, shackles holding onto our brains
Emotions locked by a key
Holding her back
The voice of her environment,
Telling her what box she is allowed in, what street she is allowed in
Telling her what activities she is allowed to take part in
Telling her what sounds her ear is allowed to take in
Telling her what intellectual thoughts is allowed in
Stereotypes painted on canvases
Strictly monochrome the painter is told
There is no in-between
Depictions of the world drawn for all to see
Painter is not happy, knows it’s not reality
But must stay in the movement he’s in
Breaking out would go against the stereotype he painted on the canvas
A little big girl wakes up from the dream
Small madam rubs her eyes
And realises she was dreaming,
Reality hits,
Dreaming of Stereotypes she was taught to be in love with
Renaissance Ideal 