When women sink
\nup to their eyes
\nin the blood of wild ones
\nit mystifies
\nthe poet who
\nhad always thought
\nthe maternal instinct
\ncould not be bought
\nhow can a women act this way
\nto get inside their souls today
\nto fight off those who would’st
\nsay
\nwomen have lost the depth they had
\nrevealing instead something so bad
\nan insidious nature so underhand
\na candour I don’t understand<\/p>\n
an elephant dies
\nin a hail of steel
\nits great heart thumping
\nits for real
\na resounding crash
\nas its great bulk falls
\nto the raucous cries
\nof these 3 young fools<\/p>\n
a machete cuts off
\nthe fallen’s trunk
\nare they drugged up
\nor are they bloody well drunk
\non the blood of the vanquished
\non that vile exchange
\nhow sad it got within their range<\/p>\n
and look at them
\nvultures demonic and dire
\nkissing the flesh
\nI let out my ire
\nI just can’t imagine
\nthe feminine heart
\nas rabid as this
\nI’m bound to start<\/p>\n
questioning why
\nthese 3 should be
\nso very vile
\nsuch infamy
\na grotesque image
\nthey portray
\nhair styles lipstick
\nand decay<\/p>\n
the elephant
\nwas slaughtered there
\nby all of them
\nthey didn’t care
\nthey couldn’t feel
\nlook at their faces
\nrich with zeal
\nmonsters really
\nsirens they
\ndrawing those hearts
\nfrom far away<\/p>\n
on my knees I am
\ntheir faces, I
\nhave before me
\nmy mouth is dry
\nI question those
\nwho would do such things
\nit tests my spirit
\nfor it just brings
\nit out of me
\n3 women, why?
\nwould they want
\na great spirit, to die<\/p>\n
their orgy
\nshared by all who see
\nthey seem to have
\nthe very worst intentions
\na spitefulness
\nthat really shouldn’t be
\na viciousness a savagery
\nand outrageousness
\npitiless in many ways
\ngloating and sadistic
\nis this realistic?
\nor just a passing phase<\/p>\n
whatever that poor Elephant
\nshot down in its prime
\nit is lost forever
\ndead before its time
\na massacre in the moment
\nit cannot be reversed
\nif they think about
\nwhat they have done
\nthey will know that they
\nare cursed<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
When women sink up to their eyes in the blood of wild ones it mystifies the poet who had always thought the maternal instinct could not be bought how can a women act this way to get inside their souls … Continue reading