Just a Whore
I so enjoyed the different responses to my poem ‘Sometimes’ (Sept 15), that I’m responding here instead of there in the comments section.
I thought maybe the rest of you would enjoy this too. Or maybe I just feel self-important enough that I want you to hear it. Maybe it will be both! But either way, if you keep going, you’ll hear it.
Here are the two comments:
1. “My dear, you are never, ever, “just” a whore. “Just a whore” has neither awareness nor presence, a lost soul. But you’re one hell of a roll in the hay. “ (I happen to know this person. You might guess that we have rolled in the hay. You’d be right. It was fun.)
2. “I must say that “just a whore” conjures a hierarchy of sex workers that makes me uncomfortable. I have not met a street walker. Until I meet at least 5, I will not know, apart from what stereotypes I am fed, what they see as their purpose in life and what they think their customers get from them. I imagine your phrase ‘just a whore’ means just providing a space for ejaculation. I wonder if even that physical release is valuable in saving lives, stress and sanity.” (This is from the writer of the blog metaphysical pussy, also a sex worker/whore, whose writings I really enjoy and respect. Perhaps you can see why. metaphysicalpussy.blogspot.com)
Aside from the pure poetry of the word, I’m proud to call myself a whore, and do so with people who would not be so confused by it that they run out the door.
So first I want to acknowledge that even the dictionary has different meanings for whore. I don’t have to look them up to know that ‘whore’ means you sell what ought not to be sold. That’s why we call some politicians ‘media whores’ or say that our lawmakers and executive branch are whoring themselves to oil companies. It means you do what they want because they pay. And that’s a traditional view of what sex workers do (whatever you want because you pay). But, I would guess, only in the fantasies of those who don’t go to them.
And then there are people, including me, who sell their time and attention in such a way to include some kind of sexual activity. A very wide range of context and intention and activity. Regardless of the context and intention, under the law, I am guilty of prostitution, because somebody‘s genitals got involved some way or other. Even if I were a hands-on sex therapist, the law would still consider it prostitution. However, as you might guess, I don’t give a damn what the law says.
So, even if we agree that whore means prostitute, there is still a huge range of forms of work, and even if we agreed on some form or intention of work, there is still a huge range of personal ‘charge’ around the use of the word. I have people who pay me to engage in sexual activity with them, who are shocked if I ever mutter the word.
So egad, it could mean just about anything, and it could carry a deeper meaning, to you, of just about anything.
I guess that’s what makes it poetry, no?
Back to the comments -
So, a lost soul? Some whores are lost souls. As are some accountants, some engineers, some poets and some congressmen. I think what you mean here is that in the traditional view of giving up all your choice when you get money for it – selling your right to choose - yes, that would be a pitiable state for anyone. I appreciate that you don’t see me as that. And I appreciate that you experience our work as both fun and enlightening. Heck, come on over for a roll any time!
Ms. metaphysical pussy (what a fucking awesome name that is, by the way), thank you for your reminder that until I have met at least five street walkers (or anything else) that I have no idea what they think and hold dear. My god, what if we applied that to Muslims or Iraqis? Or hip-hop musicians, or welfare mothers? Or televangelists? (Wait a minute. Let’s not get carried away here!)
Providing a space for ejaculation – A pretty good guess, given that ‘just a whore’ could mean just about anything. Even if it were not for all the other reasons, yes, that one would be good enough. However, ejaculation, as every boy knows, is easily accomplished alone. I believe what we provide, on the simplest level, is attention and support and acceptance and acknowledgement, along with that ejaculation (or whatever). And that, by goddess, is right up there with the holy sacraments. And I believe we each provide that in ways that are unique to who we are. And thank god, there are lots of us.
And a hierarchy of sex workers - Back when I started on this adventure, I’ll admit that I carried something of that. I wrote about it in one of my first blogs here, the dichotomy of good/bad. (’Sacred Intimate, Sacred Whore’, August 23) But I’ll tell you what – I have come all the way around to the other side. And interestingly, given your wisdom about stereotypes, partly through meeting some real live prostitutes during those early days, before I was working. I am passionate about your work as well as mine. It’s the same work.
So sister, right on. Thank you for your work and your words. You rock!
Back to the poem -
In this poem, for me it’s a joy. Sometimes there is a joy in knowing that the experiences I lead people through are enriching, enlightening, healing. Other experiences are less than inspiring.
Sometimes when I read this poem, ‘just a whore’ sounds like a relief and a celebration. Other times ‘just a whore’ sounds like a sell-out. Other times ‘just a whore’ sounds like a simple acceptance of natural reality, that I can relax into.
And I am all those things.