Poetry: Eve Was Thinking – You know that ONE thing you did wrong?


Eve by Hollye B. Green

The environments that I work in have predominantly been controlled by men.  I have nothing against men – in fact working with them usually involves less drama and more fart jokes.  I’m okay with that.
But throughout my life, I have had experiences where simply being a woman in what is still a “man’s work world” makes me shake my head. I know a fact when a person of ANY gender is not listening to me.  People with Asperger’s Syndrome HAVE TO learn social cues to survive.  So when my ideas are dismissed before the thought is completed, when all the corrections and edits and fancy color-coded reports have made their little pilgrimages from my brain to someone’s trash can, I know it. I know it in my DNA.
Sometimes I let it slide. Sometimes I get loud. Most of the time, I simply find a way over or around the roadblocks. But one this is for sure – I have lost my fear of telling people my ideas or what I think.  I may come up with the most cockamamie, girly, Lucy Ricardo answer – but right or wrong – if I feel it may help, I will say it out loud. And sometimes, it is exactly what is needed.  For neurotypicals who appreciate this, I will keep going.
The worst thing though – the WORST – is when you do one thing wrong. Or not even really wrong but just shy of correct. It doesn’t matter when or why or how, it never goes away.  It’s dog pee on a white silk couch.  It’s the model who shaved her eyebrows and drew them on with a Sharpie.  It’s Mickey Rourke’s face after his boxing career.  And I love Mickey Rourke, but damn.
So I started at the beginning with this poem. For all of us of any gender who ever felt underappreciated or out of sync.  Please enjoy.
Image result for eve garden of eden painting

EVE by William Blake


Eve Was Thinking
Even though God and Adam told her not to trouble her pretty
head, She just wanted to be a part of the circle.
In that club of two boys who knew shared secrets that
They never told her…
Private jokes about ribs and her submissiveness
And in good faith she had taken the “ribbing”
As not malicious, but pitiful.
They clucked their holy tongues and whispered
“Poor Eve” just within earshot.
It’s not that she felt bullied.
No, there was no one here like her
No one at all.
Maybe that was exactly the problem.
There was Someone who made her
And someone else who told her what to do
But not a real companion, no one
To name the stars with or wonder about the
Weather changes sweeping through Eden.
No one to gasp at the rainbow profusion of flora
Or pet the fauna.
Adam even got to name all the fauna
And he wouldn’t even let her have a shot.
And he was obviously running out of names because
“beaver” and “naked mole rat” were too obvious and stupid.
Something whispered to her “Maybe you should kiss him…”
So she did.
And he went back to naming animals and peeing on the
“Maybe you should dance for him…”
She tried but Eve was given two left feet because God had
not worked all that out just yet.
“Aaah! Eve! I know! The man MUST eat!”
Why yes! Of course!
She looked around to see who had been doing all the
Whispering and came face to face with a small green
diamond-laced head,
With two eyes, black as a starless new moon night
With a darting little pink tongue that went two directions at
“I make him potatoes everyday. Sometimes berries for
dessert. Figs. And I have been saving the leaves for a craft
“Aaah, Eve! I know of this tree with magical fruit. The
outside of the fruit is red as blood outside and the inside
white as snow!”
“I don’t know what either of those things are.” confessed
Eve shameful of her ignorance.
“But will Adam LIKE it? Will he LIKE it LIKE it?”
“I assure you, Sweet Woman, the man Adam will LOVE it!”
“Maybe he will then spend time with me? Pay attention?
LIKE me LIKE me?”
“He will LOVE you for gifting him with such precious
“Will he like it more than the beaver? He can’t quit talking
about that stupid furry thing!”
“That is a tough one, but you will at least get his attention.”
“Show me the fruit, my little friend.” And she followed the
wiggly green body through the primordial forest to a tree
greater than her eyes had ever beheld.
She saw the fruit, red as blood (whatever that was) on the
outside. She tasted and her mouth rejoiced at first, then her
mind flew and she felt ill. Because all of a sudden, Eve felt
like she would somehow never belong within the circle of
If he had just let her name ONE stupid thing! Who looks at
one yellow thing and says “banana” and another and says
“giraffe”?! No fruit she brought him would ever be as good
as this. Maybe she wouldn’t tell him at all about this yummy
little treat.
Every time Adam and God made that BBQ
babyback rib joke, her brain itched in the most infuriating
“Hey! Hey! Long and Coiling Buddy! What do you call
this awesome thingy I have eaten?”
“It’ssss an apple.” Hissed her small friend.
“I don’t want to share it with Adam! I like it.
I LIKE it LIKE it. I want it to be all mine.”
“Oh, but Eve! You MUST let him have the apple. He will
LOVE you for it. I assure you, my dear.
And no one in all eternity
will ever forget that YOU were the one that gave it to him.”

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