She’ll Keep on Coming

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She’ll Keep on Coming

You say my poems are way too long.

Well I say this mess has gone way too far.

So I will allow these words to speak themselves

until they are finished, until they

have decided it is time to stop.

Let this power draw you in: play with it.

Do not fear it and run.

The Goddess is Alive in

me, and she will

not be enticed

by false gods.

Don’t try to hold me

down ‘cuz . . .those of us with wings . . .

well . . . we like to fly.

You’re rooting for objectification,

degradation and repression

under the guise of God.

You high five and kiss and

tell but shudder if

sex is uttered from

my lips.

I’m all for lip service in

many ways but only

if your lips are

truly serving.

Keeping sex behind closed doors

closes doors on open minds.

So, do you mind?

Sex.

There.

I said it.

News Flash:

I like it as much as you do.

And my pussy does, too.

She purrs at one who

does not

shun

her

or

shame her.

She wraps herself

around one

who provokes

her,

pleasures her,

invites her,

honors her

as equally aroused,

awakened.

This conversation is not for you

and your dudes

nor is it for

me and my

Tupperware® Party.

This conversation is for

us

and it needs to be had

if anyone is going

or, for

that matter,

really coming

anywhere.

Am I only worthy if I’m

yours?

Your horrified look

at the mention of another

says so.

Hmmmm.

I can’t force it, and

I won’t.

But I will express gratitude

for the role you’ve

played in turning up

the volume of my voice

in your attempt to mute it.

In our society, we shame, squelch,

attempt to put a lid on and shun healthy

sexual expression. And we promote,

reinforce and perpetuate uglification of the

natural, pure, gorgeous sexual beings that we are.

And there ain’t nothin’ sexy ‘bout that.

I’m a writer, a poet, a dancer

and a lover.

And in this way I serve.

I am not your servant except your humble one

if God speaks through your voice.

I will not enslave myself to the devil

but toil in fields all the day long I shall

if The Holy One speaks my name.

You say my poems are too long.

How long is it that we’ve been imprisoned,

you and I?

Too long, I say, my Lover, my Friend.

Let these words bathe us,

rattle us, shake us, quake us,

fuck us, kill us

until we’ve died and gone to Heaven,

here on Earth.

My womanhood is purposeful,

femininity our saving Grace.

No longer will I cross my legs

but rather I shall open them wide

to Life

and to you

if you should have a change of heart, of mind.

Enough is Enough,

and I can’t stress this enough.

My Passion is Holy and my Holiness is Passionate.

What God has joined let no man put asunder.

What Goddess has offered let no woman keep under a rug

for fear of being burned at the stake.

Heaven makes Love to Earth and worlds are created.

Do we think this is a mistake?

Earth makes Love to Heaven and glory is manifested.

Do we think this is wrong?

Do we call it a sin?

Every ounce of fluid that pours forth from me since

Life turned me on says

“NO, NO and NO!!!”

And then, in Her release she exclaims,

“YES, YES, YES!!!”

as her gift to the world and to the heavens.

Receive her or not,

she’ll keep on coming.

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