She gnawed at his flesh
She clawed at his skin
To fulfill her filthy sin
All this displayed
All of her hate
He wore on his face
And in the evening
After the bleeding
Pass the bruising
He’d sniff and snuffle
His body would crumble
With all of the despair in my heart
He was told to remember
As His will was dismembered
And His spirits were crushed to the ground
This was all your own doing
Even though she was stewing
No fault of hers will ever be found
how many generations can
lay with you in your bed?
honorific due you,
title earned, not learned,
and now a teaching PhDs of
let us have tea,
a tea party in you garden,
and the granddaughters
dressed in their church finest,
running noisy but that's ok,
mass is over, and the party
is now a backyard affair
me, a recorder,
standing in the corner,
leaning on that old banyan tree,
smile playing on
cousins daughters sisters,
and best of the best,
grand babies wilding in their Sunday finery,
invisible fathers standing beside me,
but espy only one
gunslinger of poetry,
nobody messes with Sally,
she is the brood defender,
of the day
she is a
an author of a
gene pool of life's best,
from heaven, sent a manna,
just one family,
if such there was,
Momma Thrashers working song , familiar voice of hedgerow levity
Timeless tune of the Springtide brevity
Pitch perfect Maytime sun-kissed divinity
Songs of hope and lasting serenity
gone so long
fine memories line
your beauty face adored
paltry company by now
the made doll with her tight red smile
no secrets will divulge
pretty blue eyes held so wide
by violent stitches black
no blinking now and no excuse
the truth is all revealed
as the lie was all reviled
but once it was a simple sharing
blood along the line
mother strength to daughter
from she to me to mine
Sustenance for friends and clients;
state your case – come one, come all.
The matron arms of Social Service
will not let you fall.
Food stamps make our nation stronger,
licked, then stuck on the public roll.
Social programs last much longer
adding recipients on the dole…
Like the Ephesian Diana
many are my benefits!
Mine the matriarchal manna;
latch and suckle at my teats.
Yours the client’s right to nurture.
Mother will supply your need;
Child – you must not fear the future –
feed, my baby, feed.
Call me nanny, call me Lord
just make sure you’re calling on me.
Mine are the gifts you can afford
they’re taxpayer-funded, worry-free!
Once you are latched I’ll keep it flowing
like an intravenous habit.
Keep that nipple situated
where your will can never grab it
Let it never cross your mind
that there’s an end to all lactation.
Cloward-Piven have refined
Love me. Need me. I’m the State.
Your well-being is my affair.
With your consent I’ll dominate,
because I care.
Mother Nature takes her toll
On complex creatures with gentle souls
She sends them rain when they seek solace
Her stars shine so bright it leaves them Aweless
Rays beam the brightest when they're down
And shines their warmth upon their frowns
She opens their third eye so they might see
The striking beauty in a rugged tree
They look more closely and discover
That her roots connect us to each other