#bobdylan?

Hey Mr. Tambourine Man,

Dya know your name,

Is being used by family wrecking whores?

To postulate that they they’re smart,

To showcase they have a grand plan,

Perhaps for the greater good,

Perhaps, to vet more phalluses,

But I don’t think it will take,

A weatherman to tell,

Which way their pussies are blown.

Money

Yes, it’s true what they say. Money cannot buy you happiness. But it sure can buy you 5 star vacations and that’s about as happy as a grown-up can get. Sure, there’s the unhinged, unwavering, unwarranted happiness that is in a child. But that child grows up, in a society fret with problems. Problems created by grown-ups who build schools and colleges to help solve those problems. Talk about going in circles.

I have been on the planet over three decades and I can narrow down to two moments of sheer joy: one, when I married my now adulterous husband, and two, when I saw the man holding my baby in his arms. If that isn’t true love, I fail to see what is. And that same man denied me a hug a minute ago because “he needed some time apart”. I don’t even have any Valiums on me to counter that shrug. All I can do is whine to the world, where I know I am not even going to be heard. This man, he cheated, lied, and beat me up and blamed me for everything. I have started thinking that maybe I am the monster who torments someone so much they want to beat the shit out of them.

I have sobbed, slept on hotel floors, waited for a taxi at 2 in the morning because I was thrown out of the house, made to leave my child behind, been called a whore who can’t even sell her body for sex, and beaten up black and blue; why? Because I asked this person why he needed another woman in his life.

Five tequila shots down, I finally have the courage to share my story. I know there would be several women out there going through this and worse shit possible. If you are one of them, leave a message and the least we can do is give a metaphorical shoulder to cry upon. YES, face it, world! Women cry. They’re not being melodramatic, they’re just being real.

And if you are one of those wife-beaters, please, for the love of whatever you love, stop doing that, no matter how much she provokes you. You were born out of a woman. And just because someone annoys you or you are filled with rage, does not give you the right to hit a woman. Women are not the weaker sex. Women are the smarter sex. That’s why “housewives” is more common than “househusbands”. That’s right, we put our pedicured feet up and send the man to make money to buy us shoes.

In spite of everything, a woman would do anything in her power and beyond to protect her family. She is not just a mama bear to her sons and daughters. She’s mothering you as well, the “breadwinner”. She’s the glue that keeps it together; without her, everything would fall all over. RESPECT, mofos, RESPECT!

What is it called,

When the left side of the body,

Feels heavier and hurting,

Like someone smashed it with hammer?

What is it called,

When catatonia takes over,

A perfectly healthy body,

Like all the blood is drained out?

What is it called,

When the eyes go dry,

But there’s loud sobs,

Like a whale separated from it’s calf?

What is it called,

When you are in a crowd,

But are left alone crying,

Like a war torn border?

What is it called,

When the shoulders are slumped,

Walking in the rain

Like a wet pup looking for a home?

Hustle

Mad dogging,

Tea bagging,

Sleepy child

In the waiting.

Pills like Nurse Jackie,

Chicken and rosemary,

Munching, crunching,

Silver tooth glittering.

Shot glasses, lime wedges,

Shite music blaring.

Anxious and loving,

Caring and soothing,

Tossed out without thinking.

Anger and frustration,

Midnight masturbation,

Raging bitch manifestation.

Sleep now, little one.

Mama’s gotta be strong,

For you and them bones.

Breathe in, breathe out,

If it wasn’t for that drought,

There’d be water in the well,

And we’d kill the mademoiselle.

Chemicals

Takes one chemical,

To run from here to there,

To fuck up a lifetime,

Of nestled love.

Takes one swig,

To wear pink glasses,

And look at a witch,

Like she’s a goddess.

Takes one minute,

To pack the bags,

Slam the door

And say fuck off.

Takes a breath,

To cool the head,

And open the eyes,

To see the water’s gone.

Takes one child,

To make things right,

And the children;

They don’t deserve bad mama.

Takes one word,

To pierce the heart,

And let the blood spill

All over the floor.

Takes one beat,

To sway like grass,

In a meadow,

Browned by fire.

Takes one smile,

To forget your shit,

And that very smile,

Can bring tears to the eye.

Takes one prayer,

To hate the world,

And to bury someone,

Six feet underground.

Takes one smoke ring,

To blow out another one;

Call your wife and say,

Fuck you, bitch.

Takes one whore,

To destroy three lives;

But I’m made of bricks

And you will go in the kiln

Bones and hair and all.

Tame Hair

She had 500 bucks in her purse,

Strolled down the road, like a hearse.

Looking to tame her frizzy mane,

She entered into the lion’s den.

Blow’em up, she said;

I don’t care what is made.

She felt like a princess,

Who was under duress;

To doll up and laugh,

At the dullest chaff.

Dyes and potions,

In motion and lotions,

She unveiled her blind eyes,

To the world of highs.

Tall heels and short skirt,

Mascara in the desert.

She wowed at her image,

While catcalls came off the village.

Living without BOYS

In a decade, I haven’t been alone. And I mean ALL ALONE. Four cups of coffee down and I feel like a new me.

I just realised the toilet seat can stay down 24 hours now. There’s no aimless yellow sprinkling all over the toilet.

I just realised I can wake up anytime, sleep anytime and eat anytime. I am not a mother, I am not a wife. I am ME. I can stand on my feet without anyone’s help. I am still hurting. A LOT. An unpardonable sin was committed and I will perhaps never forgive the sinner. But I came out stronger.

A 79 year old man, a lonely homosexual woman, friends from far away in time and space helped me. There is still hope in the world. People are nice when you are nice to them. For the first time ever, I believe!

Thank You all for your support and kind words. Strangers, but not so strange. And women out there, it REALLY us that have the power. Patriarchal society, my ass. We make them from scratch inside our bodies with just a drop from anyone. 😜 We are smart, that’s why we put our feet up and get pedicures while the “patriarchal head” brings home the bacon.

-Hugs!