mystical faerie queen
arising from depths of fathomless waters
out of the darkness
exuding self
creating blood red roses
in her wake
exposing her innocence
relishing in her womanliness
all powerful
vulnerable to no one
exposing her essence
shining her soul
blue and black
tresses rising from the deep
plotting the completion
of the war mongers
raising her army
followed by elementals
who fear other cosmic
forces
mystical faerie queen
ready to play
provoke, and bend other
gods with her sexual charms
She brightened like a child whose broken toy is glued together,
summon tears as one summons servants,
and danced like a flower in the wind.
She disclaimed the weariness,
that dragged upon her spirits like leaden weights,
exude a faint and intoxicating perfume of womanliness,
like a crushed herb,
and felt like an unrepentant criminal.
She flounders like a huge conger-eel
in an ocean of dingy morality,
gave me a surprised look,
like a child catching an older person in a foolish statement,
and gave off antipathies as a liquid gives off vapor.
She has great eyes like the doe,
heard me like one in a dream,
and let the soft waves of her deep hair fall,
like flowers from Paradise.
She looked like a tall golden candle,
moved like mirth incarnate,
and saw this planet,
like a star hung in the glistening depths of even.
She seemed as happy
as a wave that dances on the sea,
walks in beauty like the night,
brilliant, and as hard too, as electric light,
silent, standing before me like a little statuesque figure.
By Seth Yuhi Musinga
I'd like to write a poem
that might
Describe my delights.
Share my sorrows.
Expand my expectations.
Defeat my demons.
Justify my joy.
Anchor my anger.
Free my frustrations.
Worship my womanliness.
Bestow my bounty.
Cherish my children.
Harness my hopes.
Love my lard.
When I was small
I smiled, laughed and played
I asked questions
I ran behind the trains
Played in the rains.
Hummed music
Tuned antics.
Then dawned the puzzling age-
Life invaded like a stranger, prowler and a thief.
Haunted enigmas of horoscopes and palmistry
To believe them or ignore them again another mystery.
I was asked to grow up-
To fit in and belong-
My heart longed to sing a song
Of the cruelty and the wrong.
I was asked to be a girl-
But I ignored all womanliness
I was made to feel as an instrument
I had no joys, no sorrows of my own all were on rent.
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