Reply To Kipling

Concubine and consort
Courtesean and queen
beautiful and deadly
not exactly as they seem

So virtous, so moral, all sweet and tenderness
Yes, Women, I have often heard, are the fairer sex.

But Ruddy darling, as much I
would like such dear devotion
I must admit I cannot claim
those sappier emotions.

When you wrote of danger in feminine disguise
you did forget this one small thing:
You're just one of the guys.

The weapons that we women use
they aren't always so clear
poison cups and gentle lies, it's true
we do hold dear.

My sweet, there are those other foes
which do not die so easy.
A man is not the only woe
to make a woman queasy.

A woman's greatest danger
wears the fairest face
the suffering and the pain
no dagger can erase.

There is no way to defeat
your very own reflection
and nothing spells out doom
like too much introspection.

The female of the species
is more deadly then the male
no man can wreak such havoc
no man can make her frail.

How is it you missed the mark?
That you didn't understand?
All the damage she receives
comes from her own hand...

Just Like Candy

Be my sword
Be my shield
Be my righteous indignation
Bleed for me alone

Give me your pain
Turn yourself inside out
Let me have just a taste
Supple and sinuous, mold yourself to me

Salvation
Damnation
makes no difference in the end
To the brightest star in the heavens

Drain yourself to quench my thirst
Follow me in circles
Chasing this mad folly
Makes you mine

I'll swallow you in bits and pieces
savoring your flavor
soft and bitter
just like candy

Death Defying

Perhaps I am a poor liar
but I am well practiced in deception.

In order to save myself I have:
feigned madness
offered my lips to the Devil
lain awake in sleep
while a strength I cannot lay claim to reached inside me.

I have pitiful weapons
only my small hands
quick mind
flexible conscience
protect me.

No matter how often I explain this,
that this is what it means to be a woman
weaker than your predator and helpless in your rage,
there is no explaining it.

So I will let him touch me
as long as I can bear it
and then I will "awaken"
pulling away carefully
a still and silent animal
careful not to arouse suspicion.

I am not a victim
but I am prey
and like any prey
I must use anything I can
anything at all
to evade capture.

And even though I am triumphant:
I have dissembled well and am safe
still I have not fought with righteous fury
and am condemned.

His Kiss

Lord of the Dance
Lord of the Hunt
unfettered by humanity
His kiss is death
untainted by the stench of the grave

Lord of the Wilderness
Lord of Chance
ageless and dying
His kiss is fear
removed from hope

Horned One
Fallen One
virile and stricken
His kiss is madness
unburdened by serenity

Green Man
Dark Father
His kiss is love
encompassing all

The Melody

The music speaks, muted and half-remembered
talking of you, of me, of the never was us
the projector in my mind rolling on a loop
the pictures fading, dim with age
yellow with regret

The never-never future without you
keeps me up nights
sweet young things flirting
smiling and dancing
heedless of the dangers
careless of their souls
while Death sings his courting song
crooning love and passion

One misspoken word
one unalterable step
the broken past and the breakable future
colliding in the melody that endlessly repeats

In The Past

The trouble
with taking a trip
down memory lane
is that nothing is ever where you left it.

Old haunts change from coffee bar
to tanning salon
to abandoned building, left rotting
with all your old selves inside.

Old friends metamorphosize
into weird shapes
transform themselves
in ways you cannot understand
become unrecognizable.

Things that used to offer security
are worn to tatters
no longer support the weight
of your fears.

You're left standing, mouth agape
trying to remember when you saw them last
because in the past, everything was fine
familiar
normal
comfortable.

When it comes down to it
you're better off hunkering down with your memories
instead of looking for a connection in the here and now
everything is different and nothing you do or say or think
will return any of it to what it used to be.

Stand Inside Yourself

The sound of children playing
women talking
an ordinary day in every respect

Look closer

each of these women is formidable
a pillar of fire, standing erect
shoulder to shoulder
disdaining the pity
that is rightfully theirs to claim.

The sisterhood of the mighty
like a temple they are venerated
like a temple they are powerful
like a temple they are at the mercy of time, and the fortunes of war.

Can you see him, the odd man in this circle?
The one whose face is tight, body pulled in?
The one who married a fighter, sent her off with a kiss and a gun?
He is more deserving of sympathy, for nothing in our world offers context for his life now.
He cannot claim that sympathy without shame and so he stands alone
apart
in a world of women
women sure of their place
women sure of their power
sure of their mission
their strength
standing inside themselves
proud pillars supporting the world.