Want Her In Bed, Not In Cradle

An ode to hypocritic heads whose lip service chants high for the "femme", yet hounds and gags them behind the curtains.

I am not a hardcore feminist

Oh I realize I am not a feminist at all.

I am the guy smoking the cigar

Sitting in the corner of the road

My curly tresses hang over my forehead

Oozing out liquid- OH that's sweat

My corneas go scanning-

The mascara, the mini skirt, those pink lips.

I am the protruding bellied man walking down the aisle

A plate of flowers in a hand, a vessel of water in another

For near sits the temple of "Goddess"

I am the shopkeeper, standing idle as the statue of liberty

Divagating my eyes in innocent hypocrisy

Hungry do I stay, OH, not my stomach!

I am the cigar guy, the "devotee", the statue of liberty.

I would stop and stare till you cry and shrivel

I would call and whistle till you wither and crumble

I would touch till you dance to death

I would boo boo till you pull off your head.

Each night in my bed this lady I need

And wonder what, she doesn't scream and run off

This grassland to graze, fire set ablaze

A body to use and dispose- Ah, pleasure this daily dose

A trash can to abuse, this cook makes food.

Third fetus to abort, pending this weekend

She will eat up my pocket and bring to the house tenebrific sights!

Oh sorry, where were we? Feminism!

And so I ballyhoo with society

I love being called a feminist

I gaze at them all day long

Ain't I a true feminist?!

Period.

They say- Fetus of a girl? A lac now or a million later! 

They say- Raising a girl child? Watering your neighbor's lawns!

They say- Period blood? Ew, she is disgrace!

The blood through her vagina was inauspicious-

Same blood that made existence possible.

Idolized, the eleven year old was, on Durga Ashtmi

Thrown out of the temple, same day, a year later

All because she bleeds?

She is twenty five; she loses her virginity to you, to see you happy

You gave her a sperm she gave in your arms a bundle of joy

Crumpled through her cramps, she prepared the cappuccino you demanded

All blood down there, she was always present for your care

Her dreams her passions did she forego long ago

The call of those unsaid words wrapped in ignorance she tried to make

The invisible tears could you hear expelling from her indomitable spirit, craving for a caress craving for care!

ISN'T SHE BEAUTIFUL?