In love with Stereotype

© 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