Thursday, April 15, 2010

A Woman Is a Worn Torn Cuntry

A wastleland

Another trash can

Grand slam

Given by the big man

Who owns her hand

Took her land

Abondoned her child

Sent her wild

Careening without caress

Woman in duress

Lost in hells acre

Where he did take her

Lying all the way

With words he did play

Shining back her mirror

For he was only fear

Without her is empty

His is the dead sea

She is his fuel for life

Calling her his wife

Struck  her fully down

To wear her thorny crown

He hates her more

Than  ever before

For  he done her wrong

He wrote their song

So many women

with dirty men

Angel wings to fly

Soon drop to die

When left to tarnish

After love does vanish

Who's to ever say

Who really does pay?

Is the victim

really only him?

Why did she stay

up until that day?

Did she love him

or, drown to swim?

Did he ever care?

Anything left to share?

Don't they know

How we glow

When truth they speak?

Never to defeat

the heart that heals

always feels

Something amiss

with lips you kiss

The  very same

that went insane

In sacred name

for egoic fame

You won the booty

a real cutie

Gave up the gold

for desire of old

What do you know

about beauty you don't show?

Your own pain

waits patiently again

To sever your artery

quicker than you can see

For you are blind

crazed clock to unwind

Every blow you sent out

is heard as a shout

by babies everywhere

Flowers grew there

before you laid waste

in poorest taste

a woman ripe as wine

your joy of the divine

What do you have to say

for crimes you made others pay?

Open your heart

that torn part

Of you that breaks

everything it takes

Yours is the loss

covered in moss

Your body is stone

never to atone

Sins done unto your own

though Goddess shown.

Katherine Marion - self portrait recently captured of a very wise woman.


This poem flew out of me ... as beautiful white doves waiting to escape imprisonment.


For all the women still waiting for 'Daddy' to come home. Your only job is for your purest powers to surely own!

P. P.S.

For those who don't get it ... and many shall you be.

Dig deeper, cry harder and someday we shall sit down and I shall gladly pour you a treacherously hot cup of tea.


  1. you have no idea how much reading this, realizing it spoke in every way about the situation that I'm in right now, made me feel better.

    I just...feel a little better. Thank you!

  2. Thank you for sharing your truth, Nelson Ma

    I love lady-bug's and I am always ready for one more pure and precious proliferation .. ready to so rawsomely land upon magical me.

    Blessings and Bliss,

    Special K