Saturday, July 10, 2010

Who Are You To Piss On My Parade?

You may wish for my extreme external beauty to fade

my breasts to fall and for me my luscious legs to shave

You may despair for my slim waist to widen and expand

all because no open heart did care to hold onto your hand

You may desire to get up my skirt and know not to flirt

so obscenities you blurt for hope unto me to then hurt

You may dream that I would die penniless and forgotten

in this wounded world you feed with all of your's rotten

You may want me with a passion unheard of in emptiness

for your unrequited pain you sent out unholy bitterness

You may hope that I will close my eyes to go pleadingly

except you know not of the finer stuff that's inside of me

You may kill the joy in your own sunken down vessel

but you will never hide inside of me to naughtily nestle

You may rob the liars blind with your own projections

while I peacefully sleep due to love's true protections

You may threaten me with a host of your hostile abuses

for we all know that it is the abuser that always accuses

You may treat me with distain as you unzip your pants

and tell me you hate me while you go on with your rants

You may slander me to my neighbors who listen and pry

and spread on more untruth before I begin to really cry

You may hear my cries and think the bully is now winner

for you have no compassion for myself or your own sinner

You may cut me into pieces with internal rage left hiding

once you feel your sadness far from ever really subsiding

You may hate me for my joy I refuse to remove from me

for this is the sun that keep shining to forever set me free

You may hunt me down and bad-mouth me all over town

and all you do is reveal yourself to be the angriest clown

You may shrivel up with a deepest scars oozing with pain

as you watch me gowing and glowing in this torrential rain

You may despise me for how I continue to keep abreast

for my heart is bigger and braver as empathy does attest

You may conquer with your physical manner and pose

since the real man inside the broken boy already knows

You may hurt me while you sleep a dead man's slumber

baby, I am wide awake and already know your number!

Katherine Marion


I can  gratefully thank one more abuser; the ulimate abused .. for arousing in me utter compassion, rather than the comtempt he only wishes he felt for me.

The badgering bully who masquerades as "The Good Samaritan" in this wee village of Vancouver is not fit for these peaceful streets or my lovely treats.

Yelling at me that I use my big breasts to get things for free, this slimy simpleton is surely not gonna win the breast of magically marvelous me!


I am practically cackling as i take joy in the knowledge that picture shall certainly provoke more added controversy to the subject of this so-called magical mystery woman.

Go for it. Keep guessing ...


  1. This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.

  2. You are beautiful. Part of your beauty resides in your eyes and radiates over your face. An essence of your soul resides in your nipples, and all of the pleasures of giving nourishment to you babe, and satisfaction to all of the willing fathers, are just manifestations of the motherly goddess within you. Outwardly you are beautiful, desirable, candlelight to the moth. Inside you are radiant, powerful, center of the cosmos, with such gravity and force that you pull all to you. You are able and keen to discern the goodness and virtue of all that are drawn to you. I feel you and can feel the heat of exploding stars lighting up all the universe inside you. Your life and light will not be contained by any darkness, but shines out purely.