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‘VAGINA DIALOG’
Excuse me,
I am not trying to be rude
or acting obtuse.
But bear with me for a short little while,
and hop along for a common sense ride.
If you love our woman,
it will fill you with pride
despite my vulgar tide.
One cannot hate any woman
without hating oneself.
Just because we are kicked out of paradise
does not give one the right
to call a woman…
These vile decrepit names
our beloved woman are forced to bear
by knaves
without shame
in ignorance and self hate.
No sense or sensibilities
of wherefore they came.
I cannot repeat or remake
or else I will be branded
an ignorant angry disgusting mate.
I will be banned
from the poetic distribution stand,
and it is not because I am a man
The shameless conversation about
rape
gang banging
hate.
About heroines we should appreciate
for our community sake.
It was a woman
who squeezed us from between her legs
after her vagina
swell
erupt
rip
then pop,
shooting us into to society's shop.
We came into being
in the womb of a woman.
Our first lesson we partake
in a pre-baby state
resonating through the hallowed halls
of her living uterine walls.
We heard her angelic voice
pervasive like a goddess
echoing from all corners of the domain
in which she reign.
It is the closes thing to God speaking
that we can proclaim.
We formed and developed
in the bowels of her flesh cave of refuge.
She persevered and persisted
after having her lips
stretch
tear.
Wrapped around her hips
then forcing out a crying basketball
from a small folded hole
the size of a very tiny bowl
beyond her sensitive vagina hall.
After 18 hours
of excruciating rhythmic screams
no one could ever miss.
Heart wrenching howls
of unstoppable pain.
To gain a small piece of eternity,
and to be counted as a link
in life’s continuous chain.
Everyone experienced the first sensation of light
after being pissed out of a female's crotch,
and emerging from a mother’s heavenly gate.
Birth from a cervical cavern
to experience a spiritual metaphoric transition.
Breathing the first breath of life,
then cut the lifeline
to the only heaven we new
losing the umbilical cord as we grew.
Savour the first smells
after her pussy exploded,
and pushed us from her blessed well.
Spend the rest of our life
trying to re-enter paradise;
as though the mating ritual
was a repetitive religious right
performed each and every night
in dim flickering candle light.
The path to heaven’s door
is a long double twisting spiral ladder
each mated pair
must claim the journey they wish to share.
The farther we go
and the higher we climb
is the closer we get to the coveted prize
for there you will find “Narvana’s Grove.”
Where milk and honey flows
from twin mountain peaks
not far beyond our reach.
Just across the savanna,
down and up a small concave valley,
then over a hilly hump
before reaching the promised land.
Where a
single
solitary
hooded guardian stand.
To enter this forbidden land.
Where silken non green grass grows wild and free.
To savour the flowers from Eden’s secret garden,
and pluck the forbidden fruit
while fully ripe in due season
for loving a woman is pleasing.
A place where angelic songs from a divine maiden
falls like persistent rain in all seasons
perforating the air for a noble reasons.
Calling back home to her lost symmetric half’
like a lost key finding his respective lock,
to enter her heavenly clock,
and partake of womanly treasures,
making the rivers of life to come alive
for a very long time.
Causing her tick tock
to strike nine
many many times.
But don’t forget a deep gaze
into her two oval eyes
and be lost in her paradise,
for this is where we belong
if we be strong.
Leegal Poet
Wayne Ferron . All rights reserved @copyright
