Spoken word poet Madiha Bhatti doesn’t like the objectifying lyrics and images that have become so prevalent in popular music today, so she wrote some of her own. Oh, and she has a little advice for “her girl” Beyoncé… right on!

Our special thanks to WYSK reader MJ Riemann for putting this on our radar.

Mu(Sick) Lyrics:

by Madiha Bhatti

So I heard this song the other day

That objectified women in every way

That doesn’t narrow it down much

But it was pretty depraved

The feminists are probably still rolling in their graves

It reduced people to parts, objects to be acquired

Turned hearts and minds into mere things to be desired

And as parts of my body were assessed and sized

I thought, “What a way to be dehumanized,”

These artists seem to be playing a game

Of how many times they call us the wrong name

Cuz I’m not a dime, those come a dozen

No I’m really not interested in all your lovin

I’m not your shawty, hoe, or trick

Your baby, lady, girl or chick

I mean can someone explain to me

How this counts as music? When you

Chant, you pant about windows and walls

Talk about a woman like she’s a thing to be mauled

Oh she got a big booty so you call her Big Booty,

If she had a big brain would you call her at all?

But it seems like I’m the only one appalled

That music can make me feel so small

You may think they’re just words

That doesn’t give them immunity

Words start wars and break spirits

They’re still used with impunity

Just imagine a young girl, smart , funny, well rounded

Walks into a club and finds herself surrounded

By men acting like they’ve got something to collect

They’re just listening to the words

That tell them she’s just an object

And her objections catch in her throat

As she gets harassed unchecked

Treated with disrespect

She’s caught in the middle

And the lady doth protest too little

A few words have made her think she’s brittle

Do you see where I’m going?

It’s not exactly a riddle

(Chorus)

I’m saying

Can we turn up the volume, but turn down the noise

Stop polluting the minds of our men and our boys

With all the rude misogyny and bland homogeny

Of rhymes and beats so crude and obsolete

Cuz our ears are bleeding from all these cowards

The time is ours, We are ready to devour

lyrics that make us feel empowered

Yeah I watched a video the other day

Of my girl, Beyonce

She was draped in feathers and furs and things

Exaggerated makeup and big chunky rings

She was dancing in the desert, hair whipping wild

And I thought to myself

What does this look like to a child?

To see a woman belt about her power

While thrusting her hips to and fro

How will she know she can wear the pants in the house

When her idol doesn’t wear them in a video?

I mean on so many levels it makes me go ballistic

That we’ve consented to be portrayed as animalistic

Cuz one hand you’re exotic, you’re fierce, do no wrong,

On the other you’re a female dog in every song

I don’t want to be serenaded by my individual parts

Unless you can look past the flesh and talk about hearts

I mean does anyone even know that Beyonce’s smart?

Cuz “If she was a boy,” even just for a day

She wouldn’t have to crawl on all fours just to crawl up the charts

Or shed those fine furs

To grace a few album covers

Does her husband have that problem?

Apparently he’s got 99 others

And it sounds dramatic; maybe my skin should be tougher

But consider the history of women of color

Not valued as wives, or sisters or mothers

But used by men as unwilling lovers

When you think of the slaves who were used like instruments

You realize that society is progressing by mere increments

Just imagine the bodies covered in raw welts

And tell me it’s okay when black women are dressed in animal pelts

All those women who paid with their bodies to survive

200 years later are portrayed as sex-crazed and deprived

Please forgive me if I think music needs to be revived

(Chorus)

I mean

Can we turn up the volume, but turn down the noise

Stop polluting the minds of our men and our boys

With all the rude misogyny and bland homogeny

Of rhymes and beats so crude and obsolete

Cuz our ears are bleeding from all these cowards

The time is ours, We are ready to devour

Lyrics that make us feel empowered

So I heard a song that caused me pain

The words were bordering inhumane

Cuz I’m not accustomed to boys yelling at me

Never had to face boys telling me to

Smack that, shake that, beat that up

These aren’t the ideas of love with which I grew up

Maybe the whole concept is new to me

But then he started whispering what he’d do to me

In a place where no one else could see

Without even asking if I’d agree

And I really had to strain to hear

The words came fast and disappeared

They were drowned out by good music, I’m not gonna lie

Cuz good beats are the noise behind which singers hide

As they beat a woman up inside

It’s easy to do once we’ve been demonized

And the devil’s greatest aid is my greatest frustration

It’s the most common appellation

To sweep the nation

Rhymes with witch

I’ll leave it to your imagination

And you may think there’s no correlation

But when a man loves a woman who won’t love him back

What if his first instinct is to attack

He’s got lyrics and blood pounding in his ears

And a helpless women faces her worst fears

She’s smacked, shaken, beaten, torn apart

Against all odds his bites as bad as his bark

He causes the kind of pain that leaves a mark

And before he leaves he turns to say his parting word

It’s on the tip of his tongue, comes out unslurred

Might have been left unsaid if it had been left unheard

But its been programmed he doesn’t twich

As his mouth fills with venom and he spits out

Bitch

What can she do, to ease her strife?

Every song on the radio is the soundtrack to her life

So can we turn up the volume, but turn down the noise

Stop polluting the minds of our men and our boys

With all the rude misogyny and bland homogeny

Of rhymes and beats so crude and obsolete

Cuz our ears are bleeding from all these cowards

The time is ours, We are ready to devour

Lyrics that make us feel empowered

I know it’s a steep mountain to climb,

It might take a while, but until that time

I think I’d rather just spit my own rhymes

Madiha Bhatti is a graduate of the University North Carolina at Chapel Hill. She graduated with a double major in English and Biology and minored in Women’s and Gender Studies. She hopes it will prepare her for a career in medicine, with a focus in women’s health (the English major is so she can write eloquent prescriptions.) If she had free time she would spend it reading Game of Thrones, backpacking, and crossing off some of the items on her 20 page bucket list.