Women need

Women need
Men to bleed,
But not like this, man.
Women need
Men who bleed,
But not in the Middle East, man.
Women need
Men that bleed,
But not for oil, man.

Blood is red
But the earth bleeds black
Blood,
Red blood runs
Onto dusty concrete,
Trickles onto nomadic sand,
Seeping into oily soil
In arid lands.

Our men go fight,
Our men go die,
Our men go fight and die
Even they don’t know why.
Was it for freedom
Since Arabs have been oppressing us
With their cheap oil?
Was it for God and country
Since America is something
Worth dying for?
Was it for honor and pride and duty
Since we grow up in shadows
Not knowing who we are?
Or is it for WalMart and Texaco
And GM and Monsanto
And for the Joneses and their three SUV’s?

Women need these bleeding men
Like greedy men need needy women.
In the darkest dark
Our women know how far they are
From their hidden woman hearts
When they agree to send their boys to bleed,
When they can allow their men
To kill poor men and women again and again.

There are thousands of oil rigs
Littering the land,
Mechanical penises piercing the ground,
Pumping, up and down
Into a shaft in shifting sands,
Fucking, fucking, fucking,
Sucking, sucking, sucking
Black oily blood
For this fucking, fucking, life-sucking
War machine.
Hummers and tanks,
They fuck you.
Helicopters and missiles,
They fuck you.
They want to fuck you so bad,
They’re not satisfied
With your natural orifices,
They need to make more holes in you
So they can fucking suck
The life blood from you.

Come on, man!
How many times can you come
On your mother’s face
With this disgrace,
Draping flags over the nameless,
Placing the blame upon
Your own stupidity?
(we’re just following orders)
Boys leave home
Wanting to become men,
Bodies come home
In bags and become statistics.
Those body bags in exotic lands
Are the bloody menstrual rags
For forsaken sons
Whose pacifiers
Have become guns.

Our men are hunters
And our women gatherers.
Men go hunting humans
While women gather widgets and gadgets.
Here’s the difference:
Men used to hunt buffalo, reindeer, antelope.
Now they hunt Arabs and enemies of freedom.
Women used to gather berries and roots in the wild.
Now they go shopping for shiny plastic chemicals.

Women need
Men to bleed,
But not like this, man.
Women need
Men who bleed,
But in a sacred way, man.
Women need
Men that bleed,
But for honoring life, man.

my love life

Me is this:
Married to my reflection
Wed to this perfection
Of my self
Knowing I ain’t going
Nowhere
Without this temple
Of flesh and bones

I am born
To be me
I was born for myself
A perfect mate
Wrapped in the fate
Of loving this for life

When choosing a mate
Be sure you like the cooking
Clean up after yourself
Never say bad things to each other
And make the space
To be able to cope
With living
So near
Someone
In such
Intimacy

Venus

I found this after rummaging through an old box of papers.
It was written on a paper lunch bag.

Can Venus hips with honey lips
Subdue the ego trips of penis zealots
Encrypted in menial glyphs scripted
To strip-mine the flip-side of feminine mindsets?

Venusian lips with rosy hips
Will kiss the mouth of Mercury
Marking the beginning of the peace treaty
Between Mars and Earth.

When Venus mentions the Moon to Mercury
Men may have to behave more like men
And less like Martians when making amends
With the women of the Earth.

As Venus votes for peace on Earth
The Jupiter cyclops will stop spying on satellites
Spiraling toward collision courses with comets
Commenting on all that has changed.

When Venus rings the Sun then Saturn will phone home
To say he’s returning to check in on the hearts of men
Who have charted the Moon for their maiden voyage
Upon the Ocean of Storms toward the Sea of Serenity.