OMFG

I’m a strong woman

But I finally embrace and welcome,

Need, — and desire

Masculine energy.

Goddess incarnate,

I can and will

Go down on my knees

Before my God,

For you-know-what.

He may or may not be horned —

But he is horny,

Because this is sacred,

And whoever mocks it

May go fuck themselves.

So many times

I was deluded, disappointed

By men profaning

Their true manhood,

That I had little idea

Of the great archetype,

The one whose embodiment

My soul craves

Through each cell of my body

That I learned to hate,

Like most women do.

I dismissed Him as unattainable Dream,

But so-called reality...

Ahem... made me wonder.

I’ve been reclaiming

My own profaned womanhood,

Learning to love parts of Self

I’ve been running away from

In utter horror:

Too much pain there,

Generational curse,

Cast by lack of love.

Voices of Mermen

Sang me back

Into darkest corners of Self,

Dusty, clothed in old cobwebs —

And, as I feared,

Batshit crazy.

But the sound is light

Bats are able to see;

Awakened with gentleness,

They greeted the Flying Fox

In me.

I entered my womb-space:

The useless, the burden,

The ultimate scare,

The black hole,

The place of despair.

Led by voices of men

In touch with their Anima,

Pouring light in acoustic waves

For the frightened Foxy — to see

What they need the most,

What they long for...

Something I was meant to give them.

(But can I still?)

I saw a spacious room,

A mini-concert hall,

With walls painted

In magenta, indigo, purple

Mint-green and soft pink,

With a touch of gold.

I saw a stage

And people with children

Engaged in playing.

This room was deep down,

With a long staircase

Leading to it,

Painted in the darkest aubergine.

Such was my Dream.

Through this vision

And, you guessed it — sound

I’m connecting to my Animus

And reaching out

To the real men out there.

Be that God incarnate!

Step up to protect me —

And, by golly,

Kick ass for me.

Be wild. Be passionate.

And NEVER stoop

To arguing with a woman.

Because, you know it —

She is right.

If you don’t understand

I can’t explain it to you.

Give all of yourself.

Die in me to come alive...

I can’t explain it either,

And I shouldn’t.

Do your own homework.

Please.

And then go down on your knees

For you-know-what.

December 29, 2020.