Tag Archive | Feminine

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

TheMagicRealist.com, The Magic Realist, Magic Realism

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!

The Receptive Mode

TheMagicRealist.com

What fruit from a tree with a hard-rugged face
In a garden somewhere and some long ago now.
As did God command each to ignore the damned snake
Nonetheless weeping willows weep for woman’s sake
In a present-day Eden above the world’s brow.
Let it be that ‘deplorables’ win the big race.

One would think we are cattle, yet that’s not our name
As we listen to talking heads blither with ease
Of just what might happen and keeping the score
In a game that’s eluded us forever more
It’s about time this nation got down on its knees
But to praise NOT the incoming master of fame

Am I bitter this time?  Not at all.  Should I be?
I spoke my hand gently and played by the game
I am thankful this nation has spoken its mind
I’m reminded I’ll always be part of a ‘kind
I’ve been told to go back to where once my kind came
Well, we’re all poised to do that because of that tree.

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.