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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required "The Depths" From the depths silence. Where are the voices of other women? In that other place, the monsters violate, they take and take bloody all, what they want the dreams of women are torched, murdered, next to them, the sweet dreams of lives gone with their children - those lives and dreams the monsters never earned, from their bitter foreign netherworld silencing voices, in hacked motion cleanly slicing sacrificial throats - a bullet or two or three or four to the beautiful brains, spilling, and just for good measure another five, six, or seven silenced now, the voices of those other women, and their children, unimportant, dismissed, unacknowledged and unheard. from the monsters’ throats, the sound of riotous laughter gurgling from the depths of their lost neverending Hades, heard, carnivorous packs that hunt vicious without conscience brutal zombies less than beasts after the spoils - they return to live like cowardly roaches diseased and at ease, in their underground tunnels, from Abaddon the Hamas Gargoyle calls its Sheol minions, the blood sucking hive, recoup in the darkness for intermittent wiles, then let loose again their grubby venom spreads upon another once peaceful home - I give you, the "woke" in their blissfull, self-indulgent naive world; inside, another soul, like floating ghost - close, yet far enough, removed, questions the different types ... of Hell; from the place of painless death, another watcher learns of others' stories, and listens to their cries for help, She's all awhirl, submerged and drowning within the visions and sounds in Her mind - to the sound of cutting, the tossing of fresh breasts, like a game of baseball catch, between each monster on the kibbutz road, the chilling sound of those feline Jewish queens mercilessly tortured inside and out and their children watch on, and they watch their children watch on, the screams echoe, eventually, whisper quiet, all the other voices silenced, thrown in the lake, thrown into the pit - one on top of the other - how must that feel? to drown in gasoline women and children families burned, inside out - the world protests for other more important agendas puppets marching alongside monsters, marching on their leashes, like their possessed hellhounds, resounding with the hidden monsters baying precisely what they want in the Invisible's undercurrents - this entity seems to have a fervent and believable voice - ignorant are most to the truth, easily forgotten, yet if dug deep, remembered, in the symbology of Stars and what happened in that time - before; the world wears its shroud of ignorance, hate speech within, without no other Hell compares - for Its infestation is already here in this world of ours; in this other removed deep place of dark silence lives have been exterminated all around, barbarically removed gone unheard all demonstrations seem to ignore the underlying acute accuracy of it all; turn the other cheek and acquiesce to the herd - or go against the popular "woke", and remember the silenced voices of ALL the world's women and children, gone unheard. should those other more "woke" women, take the sword - also, for the Jewish cause? From the depths... sonorous silence permeates the thickness of those who think they've escaped - where are the voices of the other women? Bodaceas come to save all others losing, where are those other exceptional Queens to stand firm with those other sisters, and their children, less fortunate? irrespective of territorial rights boundaries and creeds, of who's truly shelled and burned - where are the voices of other women? to hold the hearts and minds of those others, dead and unheard are the voices of other women they themselves, alive ... silenced, because they are truly dead inside, to the accurate forgotten, the inconvenient Truth of it all? where are they when they are not marching next to monsters? have they themselves, gone under ground? holed up in their comfortable tunnels oblivious mindless masked ozempic sleeping beauties. where is the courage? Sorely lacking, to feed and nurture the voices of other women abused, silenced and unheard. in their dreamy escapist lives, do they turn the other cheek or stand firm? do the "woke" in their ill-informed inexperienced condescending dreams wake? will they? without fear, take the sword? (LadyLabyrinth / 2023) at Christmas 2023. "When the British warrior queen, Bleeding from the Roman rods, Sought, with an indignant mien, Counsel of her country's gods, Sage beneath a spreading oak Sat the Druid, hoary chief; Ev'ry burning word he spoke Full of rage, and full of grief. Princess! if our aged eyes Weep upon thy matchless wrongs, 'Tis because resentment ties All the terrors of our tongues." (excerpt 1, BOADICEA: AN ODE /William Cowper, 1780) Then the progeny that springs From the forests of our land, Arm'd with thunder, clad with wings, Shall a wider world command. (excerpt 2, BOADICEA: AN ODE /William Cowper, 1780) She, with all a monarch's pride, Felt them in her bosom glow; Rush'd to battle, fought, and died; Dying, hurl'd them at the foe. Ruffians, pitiless as proud, Heav'n awards the vengeance due; Empire is on us bestow'd, Shame and ruin wait for you. (excerpt 3, BOADICEA: AN ODE /William Cowper, 1780)
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