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teaxstains Jul 2020
It's been a long time since I've been to church

My horns are starting to grow back again

I'm back, *******

Well, well...

Missed me?

Relax. There's plenty of me to go around

Enough to keep you coming back for seconds

That's all I ever do.

The thing about a Jezebel is that she's been through stuff

So she's more streetwise and seasoned

With fault and reasoning

To make you keep coming back for more

Ruths are plain and bland

Uncooked meat

Raw and salmonella-inducing

Makes you puke on the spot and swear off meat forever

Turning vegan

Swearing off the word

Turning heathen
Ylzm Apr 2020
From heaven, fire Elijah called.
At Jezebel's word, fled he, terrified.
From duty, by heavenly chariot, removed.
On mountain top, with Moses, appeared.
Elijah, not the greatest prophet.
Nor Elisha, even doubly anointed.
But John, the greatest born of woman;
No fire nor bears, doubted and beheaded.
Carlo C Gomez May 2020
'twas a time of risk
to rule the throne,
foreign skies stole his queen,
framed mischief in the shape
of her childbearing hips,
spun a web as thick as thieves,
went for broke with the catapult,
and sent his merry dreams
up in smoke.

'twas a time of risk
to wear the crown,
arrows to cleave thy heart,
jealous siblings in want of their own
ruby covered kingdom,
pushing thorny daggers
into one's side.

where kings die first
they drink from the poison cup,
tell all thee faithful villagers
only two weeks more
until the clouds lift,
and their precious queen
shall return to re-pollute their minds
with a new philosophy,
a new misogyny:
women's hatred of women,
killing her daughter's father
for a song and dance,
and the outside chance
she can ride on top.

there the lingering scent
of betray, dismay, this day,
and a closing ******
will reach over the castle wall.

on some besotted morning,
painted as the saccharine sky,
she'll wave at Jehu's returning chariot,
and he will press her handmaids
into service by having them
toss her to the dogs.
my desire
thwarted Kition
by wharf
that pruned
their garnishes
and the
outing did
plait round
their Phoenicia
that Jezebel
lured bounty
with her
beauty and
Cypress lament
Alexander's army
that fought
war almighty!
trade war with cypress
Emily Miller Feb 2018
We lament,
systematically,
our woes,
our naked ring fingers,
and our cold mattresses,
we indulge in our vices
justifying the gluttony
with broken hearts.
My comrades and I
we bond over the futility of love,
the battle that is romance,
and in coming together,
we make one another strong,
condemning the ignorant male swill for their lust,
their objectifying ways,
their Godless, scheming hearts
that leave no room for us,
and we bemoan
vigorously,
the fault that keeps a man from binding himself to a woman
indefinitely.
But the truth is...
I love it.
I smile inwardly as I spin lies that keep me in my cups without question,
and at home in peace without argument.
I nod in affirmation as my acquiantances curse the carnal seed that brought man forth,
but the truth is,
I love it.
Primal nature
is far more satisfying to me
than the boring, blustering outsides
of a man with no personality.
The tedious conversation required by polite society,
and the obligation to know him,
no matter how Nothing he may be...
The truth is,
I would rather create an adventure,
something to truly stimulate my senses,
something to rouse the animal in me,
as opposed to tranquilizing my *****.
The truth is,
when a man releases me from his embrace,
a rush of endorphins thrusts me into the streets,
and I fly through the night like Margarita on her broomstick,
wild and unfettered,
pink-cheeked and laughing,
naked and free...
the truth is,
there's a thrill,
in taking a man,
giving him what he thinks he wants,
taking what you need,
and ending with the drop of a guillotine,
and the blade never dulls,
the game never loses its charm,
and the truth is,
I never tire of it.
Äŧül Dec 2015
Please don't be the modern-day Jezebel,
I request you to not incite others about me,
You already have given up on your Yahweh.

I haven't,
No I did not,
I still stick to love,
And love is my Yahweh.
My HP Poem #944
©Atul Kaushal
Tex Dermott Jul 2015
7000*
Israelites would not bow to Baal.
They served God.
This is based on what God told Elijah when he was fleeing from Jezebel.
Lenny M Jun 2015
I Thought
I Lost A "Good Woman"
That trauma caused my pulse
to lay flat on a gurney
Ambulance Sirens of Dire Emergency
Rang loud in my eardrums
On my way to
The Heartbreak
Came to find out
It was a
FALSE ALARM
Hallelujah!!
I'm Alive
But will not ever allow
myself to be swindled again
It is hazardous to my health
Amen!
Played a lot of roles in life , but never played the victim :)
Prabhu Iyer Feb 2015
I thought you were my life. I grew my life around this life.
You and them were all I had.

Lost home when voice broke,
now this wind that scatters all -
peregrine again.

How do I start anew? What part of me do I say is not me
now and where do I find the I was before us?

What part of the mist
is mountain-tears and what part
the last monsoon cloud?

The heart is a hollow of the bowl-song, an unrung peal
of the untolled bell, sullen tree laden with loss

First snow of deep night,
silence has a colour now -
a hue called longing.

But I must let go. Transitory, the joys of our life, like
the distant lights disappearing at dusk behind the hills

Go, larks, speeding east -
all my ***** loves set free,
now rises the truth.

I was free, always free. The receptacles are gone, but love
finds new vessels, new vehicles.

Emptiness is full:
the shell has all the colours -
gone the jezebels
but still rich the air in hues
that more can dip in and drink
Next in the #Hermit series, this one is written in the style of a Haibun - dreamy prose, haikus, then ending in a tanka.

Jezebels are a species of Asian butterflies. Here they also connote fairies, magic and the birth of hope.

Also exploring the Buddhist doctrine of the ultimate peace of Emptiness, the innermost being, that is basis of all life.


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