We come from power.
Our ancestors dealt in wiles,
Appraising glances at the world around
Lowered gazes and eyelashes that cast shadows
Hiding minds sharp enough to slit throats.
We come from deception and
Seduction.  
Glittering eyes and soft thighs
Sculpted cheeks and long necks
Smiles that could cut
Diamond.
As you toil through the world,
Know that your body is the most dangerous weapon
These men have ever seen.
Know that you raise hairs on their arms.
Do not forget where you came from-
Generations
Of women who sold their bodies and their lies
To marriage or to strangers
But never sold their souls.
Women who used
What they had,
Ruthless and unapologetic.
This world has fangs
And we come from the women who said
I will strike first
Rather than be devoured.
We come from power, not ruin.
Just because we have been hidden away
Silenced and enslaved,
This does not change.
We hold something in us that temples have been built to
Stones slick and red with the blood of violent sacrifices
Made
To our full lips
Our *******
Our dancing eyes
Wars have been fought
Cities have burned
Civilizations
Have crumbled
For us!
And good.
Good, they will.
Good, bleed for me.
Kneel for me.
Pray to me.
Call me
Sacred
And lay awake nights dreaming of my flesh.
This world has changed
But not so much as you think.
Do not forget that you come from blood
From steel
From a survivalism that only we carry pounding in our veins.
They locked us away, and we sang through the bars
Sirens who needed no weapons to break our shackles
They told themselves they used us
While we bled them dry for the pleasure of it.
We come from power!
Power that cannot be stolen from us
No matter what happens.
They looked at us and they saw
Gods.
They saw
Death.
They saw
Salvation.
They saw
The Morrigan,
The Furies,
They saw
Kali,
Destroyer of Worlds.
They fell to their knees
And in their awe
Could only name their ships, their weapons, their
Deities
For us.

Your holy lineage
Beckons.

Take what you want
And don't forget that you were born to do it.
Demand worship.
Demand
Blood.
They deserve it
And they know it:

They fear us.
They've always feared us.
And they should.

skimming the feed of poetry
reading the works of poets
liking here and there
without ever a care
some of us rather copiously
we all have our favorites
but the poem is just the beginning
of the start with a spark

if you never look at the activity
you are missing the best part
it's the jam that turns me on
in comments short or long
continuing the song

so don't be offended
of the flame that's ignited
its all rather splendid
to fire the wordplay excited
it's not really a contest
but more of a sinuous ebb and flow
hoping for a laugh or looking to decompress
when you have a day that blows