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

let you know that the matriarch tastes just as bitter
Sarah Gawricki
Sarah Gawricki
Nov 26, 2012      Nov 27, 2012

chew at the joints
break you like a wishbone on Thanksgiving
eat your leftover stuffing for breakfast  
sentimental sludge
falling from your guts
from the barrage of hurtful words
pelted at your stomach
from the night before
feelings leaking out like a southern school faucet
school’s got less funding
than the local  football budget
you've got  always got a meal ticket in me
I'll be somewhere
some place
some butcher
who cuts you up for dinner
sets the table
makes sure to set you in your  place
surging through your field
like a Mongolian lord
kin of Genghis Khan
destroying while destroying
first your ego then your toys
hang your corpse like a wet towel
like a scarecrow
scaring the others into submission
I'll be your king,  your rapist
your vengeful employer
who’s no good at working
so he works you to the bone
I've always wanted to control men
I’ve always wanted to rape things
to destroy the nations of little boys
dead set on upsetting the lives of little girls
ten little Indian girls
legs spread on pine needles
tickled in between their tunics
with their own precious headdresses
bloodied by the hand of trusted pilgrims
who show them what a powerful leader does
lets them know copulating countries by force
is how to get things done
is how to get things we want

lie down my child I'll plow your field like the corn
we stole & serve annually to our grandchildren
home from their education about this great nation
to feast on the blood of dead babies
& dead traditions
like the genocide we applied
like the entire native population
let you know that the matriarch tastes just as bitter
just spelled with different letters
made up of pretty hair
slick vaginas
thick repulsion
spite like yours
but better
but harder
less civil
we are decked head to toe in our ancestor’s feathers
wearing the mask of a new vendetta

and we are
my sons
coming to get you

we are decked head to toe
in our ancestor’s
striped with the arteries of
another insurrection,
bathed in the burst scabs of obstinate knuckles,
seasoned by the day,  
the sweat of far too many suns without

chasing for scalps,
curves like jello axes,
charcoal lips,
bright eyes,
hearts like meandering cannons.
chipped nails holding prayer, tongues,
the clipped wings of our grandmothers,
clawing at your porch,
oiling the glass
sneaking up your banister
teeth out
sliding under sheets,
look --slither like--
i’ve got an apple for you to bite.
breath like gentle reminders from God
now, now, learn to be amenable
feel the uneven pulse that vengeance wore.
pausing so you understand the difference in
revival and survived,
glint from the cutter reveals an untamed eyelash:
unpainted and short and straight with might.
partially cloaked but baring light smiles,
wayward breasts you can’t touch,
wild right,
a heat between our thighs that you can’t hunt
and it’s close enough.
wearing the mask of
an unlectured howl,
a thorn plucked from our ribs,
a blood crusted march,
a cold new vendetta.

my sons,
are coming to get you.

K Mae
K Mae
Oct 25, 2014

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

musing with the doll made by grandmother for her daughter....
#death   #mother   #memory   #matriarch  
Matriarch Mama,
Nat Lipstadt
Nat Lipstadt
Jun 21, 2014

how many generations can
lay with you in your bed?

Matriarch Mama,
honorific due you,
title earned, not learned,
and now a teaching PhDs  of
Matriachal Science

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,
invisible observing,
leaning on that old banyan tree,
smile playing on
my eyes,
cousins daughters sisters,
and best of the best,
grand babies wilding in their Sunday finery,
even seeing
invisible fathers standing beside me,
but espy only one

Matriarch Mama,
sallying forth,
gunslinger of poetry,
nobody messes with Sally,
she is the brood defender,
poetess not
of the day

she is a
generational inscriber,
an author of a
gene pool of life's best,
her existence,
from heaven, sent a manna,
to feed-across-time
just one family,
an ordinary,
if such there was,

Matriarch Mama

Look what I found in my files...

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
this titillation.

Love me.  Need me.  I’m the State.
Your well-being is my affair.
With your consent I’ll dominate,
because I care.

Check da grafix:
#welfare   #state   #benefits   #matriarch   #diana   #ebt   #nanny  

My moms has always had it in for me.
Even as a baby I remember
she handed me a rattle
still attached to a snake.

The blazing eyed old matriarch
Sep 19, 2014

The blazing eyed old matriarch
Stands vigil o'er her clutch;

Two bodies sway to rhythmic march,
Yet never dare to touch.

First published 20th Sept 2014, 09:00 AEST
A matriarch, the last matriarch
Will Storck
Will Storck
Jan 19, 2012

She fell and broke her hip
Though that’s not what killed her
No, she fought long and hard to keep her sanity
A matriarch, the last matriarch
She never stood a chance
Through bouts of forgetfulness
She cringed as she sat
Wheelchair bound
Rolling with a fool’s smile
Talking nonsense like Nero must have
Playing his fiddle
Our family burned up but she never knew

the ladies of (lene) had a matriarch named Marlene
Elizabeth Squires

there once was a woman named Arlene
who had an older sister named Darlene
their youngest sister was named Karlene
and her twin was named Charlene
the ladies of (lene) had a matriarch named Marlene

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