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  Sep 2014 Wanderer
kenye
I work for the machine
that bashes bastardized beauty
into the face of the masses

The status quo
of oppressing the Goddess
to some golden ratio
of ***** perfection

"We set the standards, baby"

An arrogance of man,
A battle born in blood
objectifying some sacred symbol,
The cosmic ****
we all crawled out of
as star dust

The holy hole
to heaven on Earth
Gaia taken advantage of
Rejecting the gift of consciousness

We'll de-evolve
like past-life regressions
like we're so self-entitled to 
come back around
Among the cosmos
cradled in the crescent 

Deny yourself the mystique of the feminine
The clashing of the anima and animus
The syzergy of 
the sun 
the moon 
and us
Call on your angels
And submit to the psychosis

My brothers,
These are our 
sisters and mothers
They don't want to castrate
The ******* symbol

Destroy the alpha male
And the omega oppression
The beginning and the end of
**** shaming 

I worked for the 
misogyny machinery of Moloch
My heart no longer beats here
It just bleeds for *her.
This is my declaration.
  Sep 2014 Wanderer
Nemo
When the earth is quiet

And the children stop laughing

I swear I can hear God breathing.

And it seems to me that He

Is struggling for breath
  Sep 2014 Wanderer
Nemo
My 2 Cents

“the advocacy of women’s rights on the grounds of political, social, and economic equality to men.”

Let me start by mentioning that I don’t usually get involved with political matters, but in this case, I’d say it’s more of a basic human rights matter.

I’m a man, and I’m a feminist.

I was lucky enough to grow up in a home with three women; my mother and two older sisters. Growing up with them gave me an enormous amount of respect for women, (even though I may have lost a certain amount of socially expected masculinity along the way), and their current lives continue to increase my respect for the opposite gender.

My oldest sister is leaving to study abroad at Oxford in less than a week to major in philosophy. Philosophy. She also graduated high school with a 4.0 and was involved in power lifting competitions and is enlisted in ROTC. Simply put, she’s an animal. She’s worked hard her entire life and I’d hate to see a world that put that hard work to waste.

My other sister is working three jobs to pay her way through college and is planning to major in psychology. I’m always envious of her work ethic and level of commitment to not only her education, but to her friends and family as well.

My mother has been my backbone since I was a child. She was always the one I turned to in times of trouble, and continues to be. She works hard everyday, while going through mentally straining marriage problems, and comes home and still asks me about my day. She has given me nothing but unconditional love for my entire existence.

For these reasons, it boggles my mind why anyone would ever be anti-feminism. I am genuinely confused as to why, because their bodies are different, women get less privileges, respect, opportunities, and even money. I just don’t get it.

I am also disgusted that women are seen by most men as walking ****** organs. l will admit genuine guilt to using the number scale to “rate” women. It’s something I grew up with, but now it sickens me. Assigning a number to a woman based on your misguided views on how she should look, whether you would **** her, is something I find repulsive. There’s nothing wrong with admiring the opposite ***, but no one gives a **** about your stupid opinion, especially the woman.

I hope someday if I ever have a daughter that she will have the privilege of living in a country of gender equality, tolerance, and open-mindedness.

Anyway, I just wanted to put my two cents in.

I am a man.

I am a feminist.

Peace.
This isn't a poem but it's something I'm passionate about and feminism could always use more support. Spread the word!
Wanderer Sep 2014
I do not often connect well
with my rhyming poems. Even if their messages are felt deeply instead of just word play.


**They feel forced.
Wanderer Sep 2014
Seems so long ago...

       That our rings, almost dropped from your nervous hands, would have washed out into the Caribbean to be a sparkling reminder of our love at the bottom of the ocean where now only your spirit can roam.

Happy Four Years, Jeremiah.
Wanderer Sep 2014
Life can be a tango, a rumba, a waltz
Meticulously choreographed to display all of our faults
Also too, our perfect lines do shine
Straight through the cosmos, into the divine
Steps sweep lightly, ethereal and grand
A new beat, branched path,where sure feet land
I've heard many a rhythm, carried many a tune
Yet none so melodic as the one played by you
Our moves are cohesive, playful and smooth
Dipping down into love, feeling this groove
You taught and I learned,many new things
The simplest has no clue of the comfort it brings
We are not the steps that we take
We are the music we make
We are not the fabric between seams
**We are bolts upon bolts, skeins upon skeins
Wanderer Sep 2014
North, South, East and West
Circle round and practice best
Let nothing through that would cause harm
Hold the walls, sound the alarm*

In misty grove she weaved and braided
Her love and kindness never sated
Energy flowed to and from
Body swaying to the midnight hum
Full moon gazed upon white flesh pure
Knowing in silence the loss she endured
To keep her mind clear and her nerves at ease
She lost herself amongst the trees
A spell was spun to heal other's hearts
For her's and grieving would never part
The only cure is to help and to give
That is how she chose to live
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