Tag Archive | divine feminine

Character Is Destiny

The Drama of Symbology

It’s a simple equation yet complex in ways
That can cause misconception and conjured up fears.
‘Character Equals Destiny’ sounds about right.
But, pray tell, what is Character? Shine me some light.
I’ve been lost in this forest for too many years.
As I watch them sneak by, they seem much more like days.

I do know well what destiny is, I do think.
It pertains to the future and how things work out.
If I live well, then good fortune may come my way.
If I don’t, then I won’t be immune to dismay.
To determine what ‘well’ means may free up some doubt
That would otherwise fulfill its job to hoodwink.

I should know what will happen if myself I know
As the sole story teller. To disarm all fear,
Am I known to be truthful in word and in deed?
People care about safety. Therein lies the need
For a code of behavior to which I adhere.
To thine own self be honest, then God’s grace will flow.

Malefic Colonoscope

Colon Specific

A head made for examining places obscene
Is the best of a woman. This world view will change.
Will the goddess of old step aside for the new?
Will she be brushed asunder, her path laid askew
By upcoming young Goddesses? Can it be strange
That procedures be undone due to ill routine?

There are those who, nostalgic for good times gone past,
Need a detailed report on the colonic health
Of the king who she works for. The news sparks their hopes
That all women can be trained to be endoscopes.
It is made more appealing when tied to some wealth
And the praises of men through their lifetimes will last.

I won’t look at that colon. Suffice it to feel
On some subsonic level what goes on up there.
My head must be above all that causes distress.
All the feminine power that we now suppress
Is approaching expression. Is this but a prayer?
Naturally prophetic, it shall become real.

The Trials And Triumphs Of Tina Treasuretoosh

Showoff

When one’s toosh is a treasure, life can become strange.
For oneself, the ambition to stand out in crowds
Is a righteous and just one and follows the need
To be noticed and envied. We’ll fail or succeed
By the free wills of others. Vanity enshrouds
All the parts of our bodies that we think can change.

Parts are part of the parcel we dare to enhance.
To give one part attention more so than the rest
Is what people fall into because of demand
Of our parts-centered natures. Who can’t understand
How it can be offensive if wrongly expressed?
No one should have to fear that they’re taking a chance.

Some big butts are a magnet to wide erect eyes
That don’t mind stimulation. Tina knows for sure
She is much more than her cultivated asset.
Those who can’t realize that are not her regret.
She proceeds with a fine ass and heart that is pure,
Knowing that all the parts we have are a disguise.

A Land Of Raw Milk And Organic Honey

Contrast Irony

I can’t double-click well when my fingers are cold.
The AC must be kept at the proper degree
Or I will not cooperate. I have my rights
Because I’m an American – one who delights
In detailing my comforts. Life is about me.
I can maintain some smugness in what I behold.

That land has to be promised by someone like God
Is a fact or a myth I can live with and hope
That I’m on the receiving end of what is good.
But what of all the others who would, if they could
Be providers and reapers? I broaden my scope
Of a true situation one cannot applaud.

Milk and Honey means bounty and everything nice.
To most, it’s an ideal… to few, reality.
All land has its own goodness. All life came from there.
We, the creatures who tend it, could give it more care.
Our world crises we nurture, not willing to see
Human nature is something earth can sacrifice.

Women And Power

Strategy In Power

When and how to use force are the questions to ask
Among so many others before waging war.
We’d prefer conversation and working things out
Yet throughout all our history there’s little doubt
That we are prone to fight and to even the score.
When it comes to destruction we’re up to the task.

Have there been female generals in the wars past?
Who knows how they would fight and what harm they could do?
There are some of a fortunate few who could tell
Of the hell they went through that we cannot know well.
We know only of fighting men. Women, we view,
As still much less than lethal and of lower caste.

Women have been in office, but playing the game
On a man’s world stage and with the rules now in place
Is a leadership lacking in human resolve.
We can remain one-sided in how we evolve
But our old ways embellish our racial disgrace.
When women define power things won’t be the same.

Whistles Blowing

Danger There!

Many people blow whistles rather than ignore
What they see as their duty to country and God.
Whistles are used because they can make a loud sound.
If lifeguards did not use them, many would be drowned
Or become living shark feed, or victims of fraud.
Any person can use one. It’s not such a chore.

One’s attention is called, when a whistle is blown,
To detail of the nature of danger perceived.
It is up to those listening to give support
And protection to those brave enough to report
Ways in which We The People are wrongly deceived.
Such are people of honor and solid backbone.

Many whistles are blowing not unto deaf ears.
As the drama unfolds upon our earthly stage,
Punctuated with danger on levels complex,
One can see that we live as the future expects.
What we have is a chance to rewrite the next page.
What prevents us from doing so remains our fears.

Tight Slap

How Dare You!

“What would be called a Tight Slap is one that’s not loose,”
One would say who receives one from out of the blue
On a pleasant day when everything should be fine.
If I come off in error, do give me a sign
Other than a swift zinger. I have not a clue
What I’ve done to deserve this outrageous abuse.

Often times I’m well-mannered. Sometimes I’m a slave
To the sweat beast within me. Control I have not.
Can the creature of true heart be blamed for his act?
To survive a blind gesture with eyeballs intact
Is a fool’s expectation. I don’t fret a lot.
But I do take account for the way I behave.

 You are not my own flower, nor fruit from my tree.
I don’t have my own garden. People are not plants.
Knowledge comes as a Tight Slap upside the manhood
So that it’s maintained and forever understood.
Wisdom is abundant in any circumstance.
One does not need the Tight Slap to properly see.

Fashion Show

Mystical Feminine

“She is clothed with strength and dignity, and she laughs
Without fear of the future.”
What mystical one

And whose breath re-enlightens the depleted space
Where humanity suffers? She is one with grace
…Nothing bestowed upon her but truly homespun.
Turning chaos to love is but one of her crafts.

It’s a Show of her Power to Speak to us All
Of the will to be kinder, passed out in our hearts.
Laughter can be a weapon. She knows this too well.
But then egos are meaningless, so what the hell?
She knows this is the issue, and where hatred starts.
Her most delicate wisdom does make her stand tall.

Is life much about fashion? As men are the same
But that we call it ego, no one will explain.
Goddesses become goblins? No, that is reversed!
If we can’t look up to her, we’re bound for the worst.
Expressing the True Goddess is not being vain.
Can this world know what’s coming? There’s much to proclaim.

Mating Call

Audition

Would you care, my fair dumpling, to chat for a while?
That my magnetic presence is drawn close to you
Is a blessing of nature. May I look your way?
It would be so delightful and would make our day
More than it could be otherwise. My heart is true
Even though there may be something odd with my style.

If you don’t salivate ‘til the third or fourth date
I can well understand that. Fear not that I may
Become over persistent or underperformed.
I am drawn to conditions where my faith is warmed.
I believe I can win your heart with what I say.
You may find that it’s worthwhile, and that would be great.

Take a chance with me, darling. I can’t let you down.
I myself have been lower than most dudes can get.
But what keeps my heart thumping is thinking I’m cool
So much so that I’m willing to act like a fool
That I might earn the chance of becoming your pet.
In a very short while, I can invert that frown.

Something BIG Is About To Happen

Profound Revelation

Information extracted from processed manure
To be polished and passed off as meaningful news
Is a thing become commonplace. Not much is real
But the buildup in tension that most real folk feel.
There’s just too much that’s missing from everyone’s views.
Why not check with the woo-woo folk just to be sure?

Some become all the wiser as they become source
Of alternative knowing. Truth is in demand
That cannot be forthcoming from they who must lie
To protect their network of deceit ‘till they die.
One need not be a psychic to well understand
That descent into darkness is par for the course.

Mother Earth has a hero… one Mother of one!
In fact, she has a dozen or so up her sleeve…
Or perhaps in her crystal ball. As we grow tense,
Call to action becomes urgent. And this makes sense.
Her next move is predicted by how we perceive
And respond to our worse hand. We may come undone.

Return To Love

Refreshing Alternative

Voices on the horizon emerge as the clouds
Convolute and then dissipate into the light
Of a newfound becoming welcoming the old.
What could come forth from what is that spirit foretold
Long before our humanity knew wrong from right?
What becomes not a miracle our hate enshrouds.

We meet The Holy Spirit by coming halfway
Between our blessed egos and that who we are.
There are no other sides besides inside and out.
All the others are egos constructed of doubt.
Yet we think that without them we cannot get far.
Egos can get us places… through stress and delay.

When the heart, all at once, feels the depth of its pain
At its height of intensity… Why only then
Is the spirit available? Miracles are
Things that were deemed impossible. We have come far
When we are in atonement with all we had been
Should one who leads by spirit be offered the reign?

Ideal Wife?

Pre-packaged Perfection

A young woman may ask of someone who may know,
Like a guru or grandma or her closest friend,
What it takes for a girl to be an ideal wife.
The advice most would give her would mess with her life.
Girls of one generation should never depend
On those not of their age group. Times change like a flow.

Marriages made in heaven work well only there.
Firmly here on God’s earth is where we’re all alive.
People screw up a wet dream when God is involved
As we make life a puzzle that needs to be solved
By struggle through devotion that love will survive.
That does feel somewhat alien, and we should care.

The way to a man’s heart used to be through his gut.
Nowadays, that is meaningless. Guts have become
For some, sports… others, mental things. All are fulfilled
In ways that are too numerous. All are distilled
Into one common substance with no zero sum.
Knowing this keeps a couple well out of the rut.

A Barbie Doll Chewed By An Ugly Dog

Exaustion and Desperation

Barbie Doll was invented by one who could see
That young girls can dream mightily and can go far.
They can take on most anything done in the past.
The future can be hopeful. Impressions can last
Through a life of achievement. It is not bizarre
That a doll becomes something girls don’t want to be.

Some dolls end up in landfills, unfortunately,
Or else tossed near a dumpster, no longer of use
To the one who perceives it as just a plaything.
The dog then will adopt it. No hope will that bring
To plastic and its meaning. It’s now an excuse
To keep womanhood portrayed as something ugly.

We have taken our Barbie and made her a bitch.
Her face radiates horror at what we’ve become.
Don’t tell me it’s your job, bitch! You know wrong from right.
God should denounce your womanhood, you sorry sight!
You broadcast to the world that your heart has grown numb
To the incessant chewing while trapped in the ditch.

Tuned To A Different Dicklength

Phallic Omnipresence

Do I mistreat the meat of another trombone
In a mystical orchestra conducted by
A half-Klingon deep space skink of talent profane?
Would the world become saner if dick were to wane?
What depends on one’s Dicklength is not worth the try
When one knows that in time it will be overthrown.

One’s Dicklength is one’s heartbeat. A suit and a tie
Or blue jeans and a hardhat are symbols well-known.
It is by competition the better succeed
While the best make their way to the top through their greed.
  It pertains to both genders though it’s overblown
As an ideal condition. Things have gone awry.

The inverse of one’s Dicklength may be Latency.
Each divided by one, the other it becomes.

Could this be about time to do some simple math
To determine the consequences of our path?
It may be wise to take time to beat other drums
So the curse of the Dicklength dissolves completely.

Rights Worth Fighting For {?}

Standard Depiction of Patriarchy

If we’re doomed to identify with body parts
As but One Race, then why not did we choose the brain
Or the heart or some other part? Why sex organs
Have become for us magnets with legs, arms and hands
With one sex of more value is perfectly plain.
We worship the economy. That’s where it starts.

As it was then, the ‘go-getter’ is of value.
Everyone in the household gives him their support.
No one else is of mention except for the wife
Who looks after the kids and ensures a good life
For the more worthy workhorse. Designed to distort
Our perceptions, society has not a clue.

When we say, “He’s a big man,” has he a big heart?
It means he has a bank account fatter than most.
Women, by the mere fact that they excel at birth,
Are who we should be honoring. They are Our worth.
Yet, within men and money, we’re fully engrossed.
We make women subordinate. This isn’t smart!

What happened a while back? Many women took aim.
But, amid much confusion, the target was lost.
Women started believing that they should be men.
Do we mimic the mess and return once again
To the ways of perversion and gain at all cost?
As a society, we’ve not much depth to claim.

The front end of our culture should be consciousness.
If it’s not, then the fate of antidepressants

Will continue to be that of half our women.
When we recognize all people as equal, then
Evolution of society is immense.
The economy, and all else, will yield success.

Cocksocket Mismatch

To conflate rhetorically morality and mechanics

Someone grab that Cocksocket before it gets loose!
Lefty Lucys are legal, but only so far
As the man’s eye can stand it. Demand it, he must,
That he have full control of the whole hole. Unjust
Is the female contraption who’s not like a car.
The mechanic says there’s no such thing as abuse.

Who denies that the cock is a versatile tool?
It can brute force most stubborn things back into shape.
With the wave of the phallic wand, what was once law
Is now broke dick endangered. There must be a flaw
When every swinging dick has the license to rape.
Tools are inanimate, so how can they be cruel?

There’s a Cocksocket Mismatch. It’s not a tight fit.
There’s a sense of anxiety. Flesh is at stake,
And it’s that of one gender – the female machine.
What would happen if Spirit chose to intervene?
Of all tools in the toolbox, which one will it take
To restore what’s been settled? Why all the bullshit?

We Gotta Get You A Woman!

TheMagicRealist.com


Hey there, Sam! Is that you?
We’d thought that your partner would stay ever true.
Compromised before our eyes… Entrapped within white petty lies…
Most women know that they will pull us through.
There’s only one thing that we’ve left to do.

We Gotta Get You A Woman!
It’s like nothin’ else to make you feel that you will survive.

We Gotta Get You A Woman!
We can pre-celebrate because there’s no time for waitin’.

Sammy boy, you’re the one
Who’s personified us since our fate had begun.
We can feel discontentment. We know you do too.
…Woken up from a wild night, we’re all feelin’ blue.
You done married the bitch! He done gave you the screw! So…

We Gotta Get You A Woman!
It’s like nothin’ else to give you courage to carry on.
We Gotta Get You A Woman!
Pretty soon well be votin’. Much time is worth devotin’

…To talkin’ ‘bout livin’ lives in much better ways.
Until now we’ve been caught up in malaise.
Fairly soon we will see better days.
But we’ve got to care enough that we pull this thing together

We Gotta Get You A Woman!
It’s like nothin’ else to make you feel that love is alive.

We Gotta Get You A Woman!
Leadership of a woman could well make our nation thrive.

Talkin’ ‘bout things like thick ceiling glass
That had almost been broken but for some world class
Operation that lead to the major impasse
That befalls us, a woman may well kick some ass.

We’ve got to hook you up with one who has been around.
There are plenty of good ones. Indeed, they abound.
She may show you that what has been lost can be found.
Sam, it’s time to listen to a different sound.

We Gotta Get You A Woman!
We Gotta Get You A Woman!
We Gotta Get You A Woman!

And after we do, we may live life anew.

Popularia Febrifica

TheMagicRealist.com

The most Popular Fever afflicting the souls
And the hearts of some women who’ve reached middle age
Is concern for the herbal as a remedy
For related discomfort. Some indulge in tea
Hoping that lofty promises are a true gauge
Of their product’s effectiveness and of its goals.

It can be in Pueraria if it’s the best
And exotically cared for by smart native elves
Who imprint their indigenous blessings upon
Every magical fiber from midnight ‘til dawn.
What we would call Mirific, they would not themselves.
To remember the names of things is the big test.

One can bang out an aria on a keyboard.
It could be that Pueraria is a mistake
Because taking it may wreak some havoc, at worse.
To the volatile body it could be a curse.
When it’s safe to experiment for one’s own sake
Then wellbeing for all women will be restored.

A Fist Full Of Pipe

TheMagicRealist.com

Grab a bitch by the cunt? That’s one elegant stunt.
How does one snatch a bowling ball or a six pack?
By the holes in loose thinking, then verbal escape.
If dick talk is off-camera, are we in good shape?
Every prick comes off heavy when on the attack.
Are our ways of perceiving, themselves, an affront?

History takes on color with tiny events.
Nothing from us is hidden in this day and age.
On the threshold of brain scans and truth-telling drugs
There is no better way to sort out all our thugs
Than by indecent acts in which leaders engage.
Some don’t mind the affairs of our bad presidents.

So, A Fist Full Of Pipe and a handful of jewels
Is the way to check manhood – a win at the polls.
It is much easier to grab men by their dicks
Than it is to beat women with blunt verbal sticks.
May the coming pink wave have mercy on our souls.
History may be kind and not paint us as fools.

Phallic Meltdown

TheMagicRealist.com

I’m a man. I am proud of that, and I should be
For no reason particular. Maybe because
Men are strong and in power. Is that how it seems?
Rather than be blind sighted, turn on the high beams
So that traffic oncoming is lost in the laws.
I’m a driver. I know that. I wish I could see.

Men can sometimes be assholes, but always we’re dicks.
It is true to our nature to pound and to thrust
What has caused us arousal, often on demand.
Would life improve for all if men could understand
Where the women are coming from with their disgust?
When they speak to us, it seems they’re dealing with bricks.

Women will light the dick candle now having seen
That no woman is safe from abuse, then attack
By the sharks of the media and lawful men.
May we melt into meaningfulness once again?
When our parts become waxen and light do we lack,
Then our time is upon us. None will intervene.

The Ruling

TheMagicRealist.com

Don’t be hoein’ while flowin’. Do take a damned break!
By the way, what you do for a living is wrong.
You’re not of the right gender to make the big bucks.
We’ll equate you with life, and you know that life sucks.
You should be making babies and polishing shlong
But for only one pimp for whom you’re his namesake.

You know how to wear makeup and fuss with your hair
And learn difficult footsteps while wearing high heels.
These are privileges given you by this great land.
You have rights, and those aren’t. You’ve no right to demand
Self control of your frail bodies. Weakness appeals
To the sex drives of rugged men most self-aware.

If you challenge our ruling, you’re fooling with fire.
If you think we aren’t serious, just call our bluff.
Need we fight you or smite you with stiff penalty
For insisting to be who you decide to be?
Women are moving forward but is that enough?
It depends on how much thirst for truth they inspire.

Southern Bell

TheMagicRealist.com

To speak ever so daintily with a loud ring
Is a talent befitting a woman of grace
From a culture evolved from the most urgent need
To discover new land and to justify greed.
That was then. This is now, though. What is commonplace
Is that strong southern women are not a new thing.

In the air, there’s a ringing sound, clear as a bell
And so loud it debilitates from inside out.
It is masculine chatter – the noise of defeat.
Does the feminine matter, or rather conceit?
Can a strong counter resonance carry some clout?
Is it possible for all to get along well?

Southern women were vibrant, intelligent souls
Who indeed were the plantations’ lubricant oil.
Nowadays, all American women possess
What is needed to clean up this masculine mess.
What ill nature of growth comes from blood mixed with soil?
Can more women in leadership reshape our goals?

How Deep Is Your State?

TheMagicRealist.com

I can see how supreme scales of justice are made
To move easily when congress crafts the right tools.
How deep Is your state In? deed, how Deep is your State?
Because I really need to learn what is the fate
Of democracy. Have we been taken for fools?
We The People should pick judges. Are We Betrayed?

No Collusion” is not a strange slogan for those
Who, chin deep in their feces, are trapped in their lies.
No big mass infestation of brown people can
Be allowed to outnumber the waning white man.
If they came in through Canada donned in disguise
Of white makeup, would harm upon them they impose?

Just how deep is your state? Does it get close to home?
How far up your vagina does it have to reach?
Those who know they don’t have one know people who do.
Babies already born and caged don’t have a clue.
Yet white men in black robes have the Power To Preach
Through their restrictive rulings, by far, monochrome.

This is such a hot summer – so filled with suspense.
But it’s not time for popcorn. Folks’ lives are at stake.
There will be bursting bombs past the fourth of July.
Many steeped in collusion will say their goodbye.
After years of unsafe sex, don’t we need a break?
This historical nightmare will soon be past tense.

I know how deep your state is because it is mine.
We have all been infected as if by a bug.
In some way, we’ll get through this. We have not the choice
To believe that we’re helpless and don’t have a voice.
We’ve a world class buffoon in cahoots with a thug.
We will navigate rough times, but things will be fine.

Do Your Own Rampage

TheMagicRealist.com

As the tulip may thrill for the fair daffodil,
The sheer joy of my being shines forth from my heart.
I was born to be happy. That’s just how I feel.
All the love that’s inside me I cannot conceal.
I’m consumed and excited. I’m doing my part
To reflect divine blessing of God’s holy will.

Throw your arms out! Be happy! It’s such a fine day!
All the world is my plaything – all people, my friends.
I’m abask in wellbeing. My smile lets you know.
My magnetic exuberance is not for show.
I’m on top of the world. I need no colored lens
For pure love and acceptance to brighten my way.

We’re all here to be happy, so what’s the big deal?
Take a stand. Turn your TV’s off. Take to the streets.
We can all do a dance of praise for all that’s good.
There’s a feeling inside me that knows we all should.
In the heart of the soul is where destiny meets
Every dream I imagine, which then becomes real.

Helping Girls Find Their Voice

TheMagicRealist.com

She has found her heart’s dream helping girls find their voice
Through theater that’s youth driven and well performed.
Many girls she has taken to faraway lands.
Through her efforts she ensures that each understands
Fresh young women’s mystique reminds the uninformed
That all women and men are deserving of choice.

We each choose gloom or happiness, so we are free
Not to look for love outside ourselves on our way
Toward the next new beginning, but to look within
For our value and honor. With self we begin
To be ever receptive and willing to play.
In a world of diversity I want to be.

We have not heard girls’ voices enough. Is this so?
May the answer be found in the way we all feel?
All things come by attraction, and hardly, by force.
There is only one actor, and that is our Source.
We will never come to a world that is ideal
And without every young voice, our progress is slow.

Tapped Any Ass Lately?

TheMagicRealist.com

David Attenborough sometimes speaks of wild ass
As they cross some huge landmass in mass migration.
All the ass he has tapped are grateful he’s done so.
The man has done some fine work to let us all know
That the tapping of ass is not done just for fun.
It can be educational and done with class.

No good ass is a dumbass, nor is he so smart
That his goodness will save his ass from being caught
Without cover when taking it while lying down.
The best ass is one who knows his way around town.
And the ass who is smartest will not have a thought
Of blind hatred toward women. It’s not in his heart.

As our pieces of ass became pieces of eight
All across the world landscape through eons of time,
Has respect for the feminine taken a dive?
Common sense says without it we will not survive.
I will pray that salvation is not a far climb.
No Old Pig in a silk suit has room to berate.

God Hangs Out in The Strangest of Places

TheMagicRealist.com

Many men will find God somewhere near a girl’s butt
And it might as well happen since God’s everywhere.
Among butts, He’s not hiding. He’s out in plain view
Taking pride in His fine work and blessing it too
They’re designed so that young men will put their eyes there.
And they might end up finding there, heaven knows what.

Place that butt on a platter of silver or gold.
Put it up on a pedestal. Let it perform.
To stir up some excitement, they fashion their walk.
And it matters the least bit that others may balk.
I appreciate girl butts. I’d hope that’s the norm.
As I take notice of them, I’ll never grow old.

Women’s butts are a blessing. They need no disguise
Nor a statute of censorship to keep us tame.
They’re released into nature that we may be sure
That all notice God’s handiwork, sacred and pure.
Staring at that butt package is part of the game
And a helpful distraction for those who are wise.

Let He Who Is with Faith Cast the Next Sin

TheMagicRealist.com

Blast you bad baby butchers! You will burn in Hell!
And as God as my witness I pray it to be.
God designed women’s bodies just as he did land.
Everything that’s worthwhile comes about by man’s hand.
And if man says the bodies of women aren’t free
Then its gospel. There’s no place for reason to dwell.

You were made to make babies. The bible says so.
Fertile land can’t take cover. It takes what it gets.
If it gets stomped and spat upon, that’s no one’s bad.
Lowly soil can well take it and learn to be sad.
Jesus Christ was no woman. You have no regrets
That would come to outdo his. This too you should know.

Many Christians are righteous in will to spew blame
Like selective airborne fodder trapped in the throat.
If it’s hocked out in violence, there’s some hell to pay.
Like hypocrisy, it should be washed clean away.
Latent violent tendencies too often denote
Something deeper afoot that no goodness can name.

Harvest Humans

TheMagicRealist.com

Toward a shortage of mother meat blindly we trek
With respect for the science. Reliance upon
Quantum leaping achievements to solve world crises
May result in our being grown and picked from trees.
Of the pungent most processes e’er to see dawn
Is soil spermatization to see what the heck.

If Subgeo Infiltro Zygotization
Comes before we are ready, it may come to pass
That we’ll treat one another much worse than our fruit.
One might juice his poor brother or chop off his root,
Though it’s no longer needed for tapping that ass.
Men may masturbate into the grass in sheer fun.

They’ve been freezing the eggs. And for what? A new day
In some post Armageddon where life is laid waste?
Maybe that’s an idea that does make some sense
Since, apparently, no major growth will commence
As our mores remain so unwomanly based.
What we think can make fertile much of what we say.

Every Princess’s Dream

TheMagicRealist.com

What do little girls dream of? Why would a man care?
Were not women once little with bigness of heart
And with hopes made of magic, fulfilling delights?
What suspense all-consuming awakes her at nights?
If I knew every answer, would that make me smart?
I would be but her subject. I’m quite happy there.

We are caught up in pageantry. That’s just my take.
I would wonder what legacy should be passed on.
Little girls all have beauty and talent and grace.
We exalt competition. We make babies face
Early on a malignant dependence upon
Other people’s approval. And much of it’s fake.

Every Princess’s Dream is to know she is love
Of the purest variety e’er to be known.
She would dream that all grownups would know this as well.
Every little girl’s magic will cast a love spell.
We have lived out our lives. We should leave theirs alone.
Every little girl’s dream is a gift from above.

CuntScape

TheMagicRealist.com

All alone in a CuntScape, at last, for a while,
I take in all I can with the senses at hand.
The thin smear in a dish may be what becomes me,
Yet the function is fettered if we only see
But a flesh of an orifice to a strange land.
Cunts will come out in force as men stand in denial.

I believe that it’s time that we put up a wall
Of warm, feminine flesh with its softness of touch.
Cunts can let themselves let themselves be beaten down
Just because they get nasty when dick is in town.
That dick masters in nastiness matters not much.
Put a cunt high in office, and let the dick fall.

Is it true that a cunt can behave like a  dick
In the open theater upon the world stage?
I believe so, but that matters little to me.
What a dick does, a cunt does, most definitely.
But a new breed of cunt force is coming of age.
Things will get hot and nasty, then change may come quick.

A License To Sell Hotdogs?

TheMagicRealist.com

How to let a man know his pant zipper is down…?
One might tell him discretely by asking him this –
“Sir, do you have a license for selling hotdogs?
If you don’t then, my goodness! Your fit for the hogs!”

If he tells you he does have one should one dismiss
All the spewing and twittering all about town?

What’s the mark of a man these days? It’s hard to tell.
Male birds often get cocky and frequently bitch
Over females and who gets to strut upon stage.
When things don’t go their way they will blurt out in rage.
And perhaps our worst women would be a safe switch
From the men now whose governance makes of life hell.

Someone’s given the duck every right to hotdog
His way brazenly through history with his pants
By now half past his knees because of the big bulge
In his background and of things he’ll never divulge.
Manhood licensing yields but a grim circumstance
And the women forthcoming will clear up much fog.

Mistress Therapeutia

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Your Mistress Therapeutia is always on call
Since the time of the dawning of Woman In Charge.
This puts Man in a frenzy. His dick at stake
As he fears minds of women may be more awake
And in tune with humanity’s worth, by and large.
Men should stand right behind them with hearts proud and tall.

Strong Mistress Therapeutia knows management well.
She is built to build families from foundation to
The most creative folds within nature’s cortex.
The embellishment of nature’s loving vortex,
Women’s bodies are sacred. This fact rings anew
As the women forthcoming are willing to tell.

I can live for that coming of age once again
When the warrior Woman commanded the tribe.
And there weren’t many wars because women kicked ass.
Many wars went unfought due to critical mass
Disengaging in tune to a more loving vibe.
I’m delighted to see women challenging men!

Let’s Connect!

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When the mood switches on, there’s more pole for the throw
And the course of source energy takes a new path.
There’s a circuitry present in all living things
That does light up the life and tug at the heart strings.
One will skip the old shower and opt for a bath.
When one’s energized fully, the World Can’t Not Know!

If Don Juan had placed focus on apple tree seeds
He’d have taken to sciences – not to the arts.
There would be fewer stories prepared just for those
Who delight in exciting, provocative prose.
The strong call from the heat source is where it all starts.
We are elegant means for fulfilling our needs.

When connecting is fun, then new life has begun.
There’s a joy that is present and lasts for a while.
Any while can be short or it can be quite long
But whatever the length, it can’t do the heart wrong…
That is if we have managed our free-flowing style.
Our most electric feelings are second to none.

The Dick Whisperer

TheMagicRealist.com

Only music can soothe the wild arrogant beast
As it rises, though basketed in nature’s weave.
There’s no mind in the toilet, here. I speak with grace.
And I wouldn’t be caught with such egg on my face.
There are blatant life substances that we perceive
Also subtler energies we know the least.

When the dance that goes on, as the music is played,
Does approach living rigor, the stage is well set.
The dance, having triggered an elegant trance,
May program men for anything – even romance.
With dick under control, it then poses no threat.
The strong will becomes languid. Response is delayed.

It requires a skilled one to play music well.
No matter of fact out ranks this simple one.
One’s control of the beast must be constant and sharp.
If not careful, one could end up playing the harp.
This is The Dick Whisperer’s idea of fun.
For the beast, though, it could be a version of hell.

Fine Cheese Cutlery

TheMagicRealist.com

It Seems I’m a cutlery connoisseur
Carved from the standard manifold cloth.
I know, ‘parts is parts’ and it’s sexist and crude.
I ain’t here to please no one; my truth ain’t subdued.
Some good hawty cutter’s the flame to my moth
As it stiffens its wing and takes flight from what’s pure.

Cups and saucers are good; I will take them or leave them.
They’re not part and parcel to good table setting.
But a lady with cutter makes my flatware to stutter.
It will slice through my man mind as if it were butter.
I’m the butt butler’s cuddle no cutler’s regretting.
A girl with big bounteous behind is a gem.

It is locked in my jeans to track walking machines
That jiggle that butt from one side to the other.
Such cutter with grip handle hub double wide…
Were my gender reversed, I would wear that with pride!
There are still many things I would not tell my mother.
Spend some time in the Kitchen by whatever means.

Womanifesto

by

TheMagicRealist.comI Am Woman

Mother, daughter, beloved, virgin, crone, wife, and lover

I am divinely feminine, vulnerable, strong, and eternally and internally in balance with my masculine god force.

I am alive to fulfill my assignment as a warrioress of the truth, and destroyer of all that no longer serves the embodiment of female principles.

Female principles include living by the codes of light, love, equality, compassion, passion, right livelihood, honesty, transparency, and grace.

I meet each day reaching into my feminine soul for recognition, as well as meeting opportunities to reach into other souls in recognition of their essence.

Woman is creator of all in harmony with God. One without the other is like an angel with one wing. Together we fly in a formation of winged ones, singing praises of thanks and gratitude in the Psalms of sisterhood.