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Patriarchy? Misogyny? You tell me

Woman, the Janus faced creature

uses the good man for security

uses the bad man for sex.

No loyalty to a man,

only to a plug to fill her hole,

be it a baby or a stiff rod.

She loves the idea of reforming the bad man

she does not want the reality though

of the reformed good man.

Such a man is of no service to her.

She must have the moral higher ground,

in any relationship with a man,

it is how she has power.

For she does not possess the focus,

determination, or physical capabilities of the man.

Take her moral high ground away,

and she has no escape from the man,

she must always have a way out,

a legitimate excuse to tell herself and others

for she knows no loyalty to man,

only to a temporary servicer of her babies.

The good man will never get his due,

the good man will always face treachery.

Integrity is absent in the heart of a woman,

and a man who wants a woman’s heart,

will do well to discard his morality.

A woman cares not for well considered goodness,

only for impulsive bloodiness,

that she can manoeuver around

and some day send off the cliff.

A man is condemned to die justifiably,

all our weeping is reserved for innocent women and children.



(I don’t claim any rationality to these ramblings, but I do claim some reality to them. I find these thoughts coming up regularly lately, and I need to find some way to get them out of me, for they are festering in my mind. Reading it through now, perhaps my anger is that I have been given this lie of trying to be a good person that has failed me every time when it comes to a relationship scenario. I know many can compartmentalise outer image and inner reality, for me there is no such compartmentalisation. I can’t spout myself as good and then be bad in private or vice versa, portray a bad image then be good in private. If I am good, I am good the whole way through, If I am bad I am bad the whole way through. This condemns me to the scrap heap of human relationships. I am either an open book or a tightly closed trap, there is no happy medium. I can limit the outer effects of this, I can have less attachment to each transition, but still the basic reality of it remains.)





Hollowed Out

A cold dark sphere of hate,

pulses from the centre of my being.

This world is a disgusting unjust mess,

so lets just clear it up, clear it out,

and be done with it.


You disgust me,

your feeble mindedness,

your treachery

your blindness, blandness

you have failed me,

you have failed this world.

see you in hell.


The good moments pass by, I wait for the come down,

the next woe to befall me, the next chance to frown.

Trying to avoid complacency, to not relax

it is always then, that someone attacks.

Caught unawares, caught off guard,

emotions ruffled, my equilibrium jarred.

I seem only happy in blankness, a lazy haze.

Living in a busy-body world, I am quite easily phased.

The next rusher round the corner, pushes me along

as I am about to sit and enjoy the calm, soothing song,

of the birds, up in the bright blue sky,

or at least I was going to try.

In comes the next distraction,

requiring my preplanned ritual reactions.

I watch on, closely I listen and wait.

But the song is gone, I am too late.


Death unbeatable

the vultures pick on the corpse of the dead and gone

there is no sweet sound or birdsong,

to come from these hideous creatures,

they possess no redeeming features.

Nothing can put it to right,

neither silent darkness, nor noisy light.

It’s pure chaos, it’s hell without end.

It’s useless to otherwise pretend.



Death is my only atonement

I have no friend on this earth, and I do not want one.

I have no love in this life, and I don’t care for one.

Why would I want more hassle and anxiety?

I am already filled with these to satiety.

I don’t want your burden, I don’t want your games

I don’t want your lies, and I don’t want your shame.

I just want to be left alone.

Only in death will I atone.


You have no idea how much I have held back,

to be polite, respectful and nice.

You have no idea of the rage in me,

Often my blood runs cold as ice.


I am waiting for the right moment,

for my chance to put you all to rights,

to end this sick torment

and end these dark nights.

To light up in flames across the sky,

burn down this sham society.

Extinguish all these sick and twisted lies

that leave me nothing but anxiety.


Leave all this degenerate parade behind.

The back-handed passive aggression,

the crude the dumb and the blind.

The pointless distractions and digressions.


For once face what you have done,

you soul destroying worms,

with your games and your fun,

no more, away will you squirm,

as I pull the trigger of this gun,

and end your decadent term.


I will watch with relish as you turn cold,

now you know what lies deep in my soul,

hatred, disgust of all you filth and scum,

of my sympathy you won’t get a crumb.


Run while you still can.

I know you won’t face me,

all the horizon I scan…

you are fake, fickle, imaginary.