Behold The Woman

In the endless years of waiting and the watching

She deemed that shadow length must soon diminish,

That patience and quaint ethical endeavour

Would forestall gloom, reverse the trends and finish

The weary task of sentinel to living,

Abhorrence to the task, so bleak, in hand,

To reap the harvest of the ghouls untethered,

Slaughterhouse to wicked in the land.

Apparent cloak of grey and cowled hood,

A swish of semi-darkness in the night,

Double-edged the scythe to strangulating outgrowth

Whose vindictiveness and cruelty served to fright.

Thus it was the temptress became woman,

Woman tempered, raged with blood red eyes,

Reaper to the violators, this her charging,

Stalked she now mid murderers and lies.

A potent sort of woman with a mission,

Stilled in womb, cut open for the lives,

Challenger to death by haughty ingress,

Harbinger of justice to despised.

Avenger of the children, every mother,

Every father, every soul who seeks the light,

Partaker of the flesh of idle flavour,

Vampire to the wraiths of soulless sight.

Suckled on the teat of terror driven

By hardness, hubris, hierarchies and hell,

Behold the woman, Mother Earth, anew created,

Anointed in the bowels of ne’erdowell.

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Wildfire

Hi Everyone,

The lovely Anne – Marie read one of my poems and asked me if I would like to feature it on here on her blog to which I replied of course I will! It’s a bit funny to me because I actually wrote this piece as an emotional vomit. Yay for expressing rage! Anyway I hope you like it.

Lisa

 

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Woman of the fire

She stands in the spotlight faint hearted
The saboteur waits in shadows
She sings of truth and beauty
She wants her silenced now
A voice gets reduced
The knife slides in
She stops all
Partners
None
Consumed
Hums alone
Inhales, exhales
Tests her feet in dance
Weds the heavenly choir
Raises the curtain to love
Remembers the assault of hate
Stays on hold patiently by the fire

“Some women are lost in the fire. Some women are built from it.”