Tuesday, November 29, 2022

everywoman

 

 

                                

                                                                                                                  Enheduanna

                                     

i am every woman

who ever wrapped her legs around you

from the first time you entered

the long halls of women’s mystery                                                                                                             

from the first time your shaft strained

into the wet darkness

from the first time your hands

touched the sensitive skin

of tiny points not yet suckled

 

from the time you found first love

and made her your longtime love

the legalities answered the children forthcoming

the lovemaking lovemaking always ecstatic

calling the lightning and thunder down

reaching the cosmos with cries pierced with light

and all those long years now withered

once so bright and passionate

the sweet fruits of your loins all grown gone away

but always the young days live bright in your heart

and the mother the mother can never be forgotten

 

i am all women All women

the one night stands

the grrl chosen at the party

the one fucked in the car

because neither of you could wait

the one who fell in love when she shouldn’t have

the one who wanted only and only and only

to please you

the one who never made it

never took you inside her

because she misunderstood

and always regretted it

 

the one who held you prisoner for years

inside the web of her gossamer golden beauty

who tore at your heart and skipped ever away

capricious and cold

caught in an endless game

 

the one who answered your boyness

climbed to the top of the world with you

held you hard between her young thighs

and gave you the next ethereal vision

the one who held you so deeply

the orgasms expanded into space

at a fingertip’s touch

 

the ones who filled up your emptiness

filled in your sadness

with small moments of laughter lost again and again

in the caverns of heartbreak

 

the one whose poetic heart called

to the deepest places of language

where your magic lightning touch of words

struck sparks

in the universe of longings

the one who never knew never appreciated

till almost too late

how much you are, were, will be

 

all women your words have inflamed

with desire for what, they may not even know

every woman

whose molten heart feels the scream of your love

penetrating into her core

the place where poetry lives

 

i am the one you dreamed of

stared into the bedazzled night sky looking for

in midnights of the spirit when you cried “Nevermore!”

the one who sees the universe in your eyes

as you pound home lathered and breathless

from another hard ride

another journey into the depths

the heart of the forest where all secrets lie

 

the wine of our love

fully aged and delicious

drunk from the bottomless chasms of time

your essence inside me

the profound poetry of your ardor

pulses to the rhythms of thousands of years

vanished, but never lost

 

© 2013 pamela twining



Sunday, October 9, 2022

Love Warriors

 

Love warriors wild child poster  black and white art  wild image 1

 

 

Where Are the Love Warriors

epitaphs seeking orison

all manner of Lives and unknown unrecorded Deaths

one died mysteriously in police custody

one died sleeping in the right apartment

for the wrong reason

one died in madness shocked and chained

cardiac arrest

(well Some kind of arrest anyway!)

another died in an alley naked and alone

robbed of her humanity just a commodity

hunger like the beak of a terrible bird peck peck pecking at the vitals

marking the emptiness stitching the belly shut with pain

words stolen from the mouths of the long dead

forgotten anonymous

 

Their words made whole again

Live again

Resounding in the world like Clarion

like Deep Gong

shivering night air 

shimmering sun-bleached moments hazy summer daylight

Words of Women Long Dead

Layers of Stories Reclaimed from the Void

Black Hole of the Nothing

Eater Consumer Excreter of All that’s of Value

rendering a strange and sudden destruction

burning into consciousness

trails of Fire and slow roll of lava

incendiary heart

blackened crust encasing red orange glow yellow heat

 

one spoke of Freedom while kneeling scrubbing floors

one spoke of Love to children born of rape

transformed the lives they were given

into small legends

the Stuff myths are made of

not the myths themselves but the ground

the soil from which Myth springs

 

 

 

© 2020 pamela twining