Dirt

Come over tonight
I'll strap you up tight
And do what I like to you

I got vodka to the left
Whiskey on the right
A pouch of something nice to do

Put on travis scott and Kendrick
Goosebumps, comprehend it
Feel the music move you
and pray they never end it

There's a box in the drawer with some cuffs in it
Got some dice to inspire the lust in us
Where's my belt, imma wrap this round your legs, then I
Cuff you to the bed, relieve that tension right

Clawing at the sheets,
my hands spreading her cheeks
Ain’t felt this good in weeks
Tonight we will not sleep
For first we have to dance
I'll spread them lips apart
And lick up on your clit
Get ready for this dick, bitch

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I'm proud of belonging to the female race,        
To hail from the fair sex        
To be a part of womanhood , earthly sisterhood          
Not only because I have far less hairy        
Smoother, softer fairer pinker skin        
than the gents and men        
But also because it is only        
Our womb that cradles the unborn human        
That's why we are the cradle of civilisation and humanity.        
And our womanly lap that ensures the survival of the human race        
Our motherly lap is said to be a child's first university.        
I don't even mind being referred to as the weaker sex        
For I connote it to refer to how we are a delicate delicacy          
Upon which our men ravish and feast upon        
Wherein also lies part of our powers ironically.        
I mean I have read of kings who gave up thrones        
Just so they can feast their enamoured eyes upon and love a woman!        
         
The chauvinistic world of men has tried to sideline us        
Yet powerful women have risen and shone in all ages nevertheless.        
Thank you God for creating the mother of all humanity, our first mother, Eve.        
Long live womanhood, be proud of your gender.        
Let's change the male dominated masculine mindset of this world        
And make it more women friendly and feminine.        
Men are referred to as gentlemen in English,        
yet that can be paradoxically harsh in reality        
For more women are gentler ironically .        
       
A woman is flower power      
That can shake the world with her delicate petals      
As her softer voice has learnt    
to pierce, melt and mould his fierce metals      
of masculine armours of physical strength      
Without employing swords or guns.      
   
A woman is divine art admired by her admirers      
A vital divine creation that creates and nurtures      
because the Creator has entrusted her with that magnificent role.      
       
         
        ( comments are fine but I don't invite them for such contest entries)
         
         
         
         
         
         
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-I don't give a fuck how pretty your city is.-
It still smells like piss, wrapped in aesthetics.-
 
The shit from the sewer bubbles up from underneath.-
With the looks of discouraged, as it walks on the streets.-
 
The reapage of seepage.-
 
It doesn't matter, your city's name.-
The underbelly of freeway bridges all look the same.-
 
Armpitiful of poison feces.-
Parade of neglect, release me.-
 
Pave the way for decay.-
 
It sleeps wrapped in blankets of mucus and bile.-
Puddling in vomit, chunks volatile.-  
 
You're fewer than manure.-
 
The church of the perished.-
Come to prey for the week.-
With their noses in the air.-
Earth has inherited the stink.-
 
Pollution is the solution.-
 
Your words escape to mate with the smog.-
Your toilet of arteries seem to be clogged.-
 
I've never seen so many shadows in the daylight.-
With your plastic forests and garbage smiles.-
It landfills me up with no emotion and empty sight.-
Built layered upon cracked OCD tiles.-
 
Proud and loud.-
Neighborhooded masks.-
Pride and lied.-
No heart to attack.-
Pride denied.-
Metaphoria.-
Denied you pried.-
Flawed Utopia.-
 
Riots of silence.-
 
You hide from the world.-
I pity your cleanliness.-
You hide the world from yourself.-
Thanks, you're fuckin' hideous.-
 
You're clutter in my gutter.-
 
Architect with a broken neck.-
Lowlife eye level with the concrete.-
Hidden horrors in pristine building.-
Windowed pain kneeling in the cold street.

Mama cried, “girl, go play outside”  
‘Said “Ya daddy and I gotta talk”  
And I told her  
“Mama, all there iz’z dirt”  

Cuz it wuz summertime  
And even the hounds were cryin’ and achin’ under the sun  
Their ribs pokin’ out like mine  
 
Hell, them dawgs stayin’ in the yard with no water  
And they wasn’t even fenced in  
Guess they jus’ ain’t got the spirit to leave  
I suppose they wuz jus’ like mama

Pops told me that even us good girls start and end as dust and that the in-between was simply horseshit sticking both parts together.
 
Mama said that even though we might dust and clean, we was created from more than just dirt. That the rib of a Man crafted us good girls.  
 
Imagine that. Here we stand, and work, and sit quiet--like good girls do--all because of you and your extra bone.  
 
We kneel down, eat dirt; and, when you are done, we dust it off of our knees, spit it out of our mouths and get back to our chores, like all good girls do.  
 
R.

 
earth was a void
only he could avoid
clay dough his play dough
no time to play, though

for sight and sound
were not unsound
where emptiness
besieged the nest

shape and form
fitting reform
for otherwise
all would seem foolish

thus thou art
but dust thou art
he said to me

when you’re able
to eat cane
i’ll give you strength
to build a dam
in a single eve

man thing from nothing
woman from new man
lifestyle from dead soil
earth banishing dearth
breath of life
for the breadth of life…

© Copyright 2019 January 17
by Clyve A. Bowen