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Best Poems Written by Roberta Bisgyer

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50's Housewife on Kink

50’s housewife on kink							

I like to please, always have
you need something, already in the car, your favorite dish- surprise it’s made
delicious, nutritious  , satisfying
catering to all whims
don’t get up, i’ll get you another drink daddy
it’s so natural
saw it in my grandmother and mom, catering to men’s wishes remaining on task
putting others first as you lag behind only to realize that you are under appreciated

when you stumble on the right one you realize their love for you is overwhelming
so I choose this part of me, fulfills me
truly who I am

i know your thinking how can she love herself submitting to another
submission it’s so taboo, so deviant, conjures up images of cruelty, worthlessness
nothing could be farther from the truth

yes, good jewish girls were not taught to behave this way, walking around in heels completely naked as they clean the house

crinolines off as well as separate beds

what most people don’t know is that submission is a precious commodity- if it was available on the stock market it would out pure gold


it’s a gift to one who earns it
connections so strong the desire to please in anyway is a joy
i am a 50’s house wife on kink
never felt this calm

Copyright © Roberta Bisgyer | Year Posted 2016

Details | Roberta Bisgyer Poem


under a carnelian sky, sand massaging the soles of adorned feet
the romantic warrior observes the heavens
everything must be in alignment, total peace

dressed in breast plate bone, draped with jewels
sacred beads resonate

observing the horizon he is smiling that the gods are pleased
they have created an illuminating moon guiding to that holy place, pinpointing where love is to be found
silently outstretching his arm beckons her to come, and embrace the illumination

she descends on a staircase of stars
fluid deerskin gown, sea pearls woven in her thick hair
regal yet soft
her bejeweled choker resonates as she stands before him

bone of adam


placing her hand in his they walk, beat of drums, ancestors past, ring in their ears
two sets of footprints engraved in sand

the stars witnessed their love while the third set of footprints danced in joy

Copyright © Roberta Bisgyer | Year Posted 2016

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she pushed the throttle, her engine roared
yet she stood still

her mind raced like a couple of teenagers- late at night, pushing pedal to the medal
on a lone stretch of beach kicking up dirt, indigo steam pumping out of the exhaust pipes
bright’ s on shinning the dark empty roads
1,2, 3, flag is down and she is off- whoosh there  she  her goes....
0-80 in one split second
wheelies popping, 2 wheels off the ground taking curves in a dangerous manner.

out of control
yet her body couldn’t move
brain zaps, sparks ignited, you could smell the fire
smoked apple wood
pleasing for a moment then rancid to her senses
not translating to make her will move
clutch screeched- tires blown out with a thump, flat like a teenagers chest, she knew she was screwed and couldn’t do a damn thing about it

she sits as the engine catches on fire
see’s the flames but can’t move
her brain begins to hurt as she’s clutching the steering  wheel. fingers gripping so tight you have to peel her fingers off for her to settle down
breath comes in short spurts, body still

she has no skills but to talk and charm
she has to guide herself, sometimes she can not catch her breath

she still cooks and sometimes cleans but always makes sure her daughter is cared for

if only the car would move when the throttle is pushed to its max
it just stalls
it’s battered and taped together so her insides don’t fall out

yet the fire in her mind burns, can’t extinguish her thoughts
and she is stuck once again

Copyright © Roberta Bisgyer | Year Posted 2016