Every day, in colors or sweet odors
of nature's diversity, found I pleasure
without bound, without adversity, without measure,
In the shapes of Goddesses’ figures outdoors,

Or on streets or cities' corridors.
Now I know, and see how as soulmates
the varied colors, and shapes
of flowers, adorn the floors.

Oh, dear Divine mothers' bliss, of the nectar sweet,
taste of women's and flowers' fragrances -
Oh, dear Divine, bring all qualities of them, in one fleet
that I may rejoice, in one body, and in one soul meet -
under your firmament-devouring garments and tresses,

that I may wrap you, with your soft skin-petals, around me,
and just be, in blissful ecstasy, and solely, and fully, with thee.

with no hype
I got
the other type...
a lot

of pleasurable feeling
of being ...
amidst the labeled
that unenabled

and constraints us
of seeing
deep within us
the being…

of women’s divinity
lovingly feeling -
magnanimity in eternity –
superhumanity feeling

unity for impunity ending
and upholding their dignity.

Last night, thoughts of you invaded me -
as uninvited cool breezes sweeps into the trees,
as the moist of mists suddenly adorn leaves,
as the intrepid intrigued bee flees placidly free
as the blind unexpectedly can freely see...
as my kind heart agreeably gives in to thee,
as thoughts of you invaded me.
Oh. I praise and raise you women of the world
as all men should praise your divinity in this world. 

Near, across the clear low mountain,
I hear below the crossing of thundering rapids,
of rain falling, hurting intrepid the rocks of the fountain
that spring from your eyelids, and that my lips taste sapids.

With such delightful tastes and pleasures - oh Goddesses! -
The infused image of a crying muse caressed my soul's skin,
now it seems keen like blessed akin
the universe, planets, nebulas, and stars have blessed nevertheless:

witness your healing scars and my days and nights in blessed union
with lovely tastes and pleasures in women-Goddesses’ holy communion.

O! Woman you are abused.
The man with you,
that lives with you
Lives you hurt and bruised:

He makes you empty promises
as false as his hopes and stances’:
and the valses he dances. He scopes -
your life will destroy if he doesn't elopes!

And his dark forms of loving
your kids' life might too destroy:
as Greeks gave once the horse of Troy
that meek Troy once end destroying

so, loving that you and kids is hurting
it is not used for you to be amused
so, don't live to be hurt and bruised
just choose not to being abused, and avoid life loosing. 

Move perfectly like displacing
barely touching the ground - graciously, as beautifully
as a goddess walking
on a model's ramp freely, lovely

move
with the force of  love
tenderly, as perfect
oh women with no flaw, nothing imperfect -

walking with no law, freely like you walk
freely every day we meet
thus blessing with your tender feet
men and the ground you meekly walk

move
with me
to the altar of just pure love
just move afar surely you and me:

Far, far away
from predators and abusers
to a land with no abusers
just inducers and users of the divine highway

that conduces to just men
that sees goddesses and muses in all women.

her life depended
on
her own decision...
ended
abruptly in vain
pain...
there beside her
lover 

It all started with a muse
In distress, in every part of the world:
The tears of women flowing, taking abuse
The fears of their abusers, men so cold,
The relentless fight for their right
To be heard, to be less abused, day and night.

Her happiness suddenly left
sometime ago
like a blameless theft
came and go
when the lame first
bruises appeared
when outburst violent thirst
reappeared.

Why not rise, and despise the evil doings of men?
Rise and be wise oh women!
Rise and despise wrong, and what is not of Eden!
Rise and despise being, and living in the lion’s den!

I believe at immeasurable length, in your unconceivable strength,
I believe in your incomparable goddess inner beauty, at length!
O Princesses and Queens, just aim to rise
Much higher than high-rises. Rise high, high do rise!

Never stop, the drop of the ocean, of good in you
Never Stop, the calm ocean in you, never stop being you!
Why not rise, and despise the evil doings of men?
Rise and be wise oh women!

They tasted feeling being lonesome
mistreated at home
next to their gruesome partner
as prisoner kindergartener

no voice of her own
constantly being down
with no one sadly around
madly crying sound

laments of screaming out loud
echoing him proud
of controlling her unproud life -
her abused wife.

Let me tell you a sad, sad story,
One of millions I shall add:
Not long ago, there was a bad
And awfully mad husband, with a sad story:

I sadly saw with sorrow, how badly he abused -
Like an outlaw, his terrified bruised wife.
Like in an occult cult, he controlled her life,
He took her dignity; he falsely accused the abused -

He left her with nothing,
But he will be left with less
As life will bless
Or life will leave you with nothing. 

She had no time to waste so I haste, because
Her husband a bad time could anytime cause,
Because the life of this wife run rife uphill
With self-steam killed and heart deemed unfilled at will.

She then seemed in great distress when she called
I arrived too late... my sister was pronounced dead,
She wouldn't call the police, so she help him flee unnoticed!
Do you have time for yourself to get ahead?

Don't compromise with any less, than the best your life blesses
The little distorted love you get is deadly nonetheless
Because the love that life bestows is infinite and no less
Oh women, don't die too soon as my sister death now caresses!

What will a woman do at night
when the abusive executioner arrive?
Will she cook a delicious hot meal or drive,
drive far, far away from his ominous night fight?

Will she persuade the deaf narcissist ruler
not to shout and hit her as a mute inanimate
without feelings object,...the abuser fouler?
Or should she just run from the unjust mate?

What will her children do when they grow up
to be consumed bullies-abusers or helpless victims?
Or will one of them by a miracle stray away and show up
as the advocate of abused women and kids' victims?

What will a woman do at night
when the abusive executioner arrive?
What will her children do in the morning light
if they do not see you Goddess, fly away and away drive?

Today I can tell you the epitome of sad stories:
Shall I compare a woman’s loneliness to a desolate corpse,
Or to abused and solitaries’ damsels with ransom dowries?
Or, to a defeated woman soldier, in the apocalypse of world’s collapse.

Today I can tell you the epitome of sad stories
Tumultuous winds of pain shake my heart again.
And in the advent of tears flowing, destitute of any glories,
By chance or a grain of faith, glimpses of thee I regain.

But the sole remembrance of abused women vivacious laughter,
Shall slain rains of sadness and solitude.
Nor shall permit utter thoughts of death deter your fortitude and character,
When in colossal battles of dimmer or brighter you gain your fortitude:

So long as hope exist or gratitude sparks thy grace,
So long the Divine live in you, and you in Divine, peace you embrace.
So long as thy beautiful essence woman be my soul, or my essence in thee abide,
So long the tide of sorrow and bliss is balanced deep inside.

Today I can tell you the turning point of sad stories:
Oh, That you’ll never hide from adversities again,
but let Gods love guide you amidst abuses again, and again!
And ah, that thou art, soul of a woman the wisdom of visionaries:

The happy ending of sad abused women stories.
The ending of abused women sad stories.

In the first raindrops-falls, the thirsty land
moist the lips of the dry desert-cracked land.
Years of winter omens are like dry women's moments
with men's bitter new few  drops of non-solemn amens.

The hot dusty-wind cover the leaves of the forest's trees,
like ashes of volcanoes, miles of no-greens in the dust-covered trees.
Just like men's lack of depth to understand women's heart,
just like men's stand, lacking breadth for the art of women's part:

just like cracking dust covered women's leaf-shaped-heart
so the torrents of drops of caring in a storm fills their heart:
so men's events of dents of fresh drops of mist of dew
and then be no more dryness of asphyxiating dust there grew.

Because in the first raindrops-falls, the thirsty land
moist the lips of the dry desert-cracked land.  

It is not enough though, to say I am sorry
And cause so much worry, abuse, and pain,
And do it over, and over again -to cause pain-
She was a wounded woman - heard him say: I am sorry”

She wanted to avenge herself
Against the perpetrator -
Against herself, the perpetrator:
For allowing all sort of wrong, against herself,

When the first woman allowed, a man to hurt her
And other women, followed
Then more abusive men followed
Abusing her, when more women allowed her,

To be abused. Stop the boredom of the stardom chain
Don’t get used to be abused and break the chain
And through freedom gain your chiefdom again...
It is not enough though, for men to say, I won’t do it again.

It is not the pandemic that worries me, It is worst.
It is men, that women are constantly abusing
Causing relentlessly pain and suffering
I dislike them simply! I dislike their nonsense outburst.

I simply dislike them, as I dislike their mundane actions,
The male species’ lack of benevolence and violence–
Hitting and beating a woman, their illogical reactions
Man’s ill volitions and contradictions and pure insolence–

And the laments and crying of women, that ask
For help! - obliged in an union, that they learned to hate –
In the abused women’s mind, remains one task:
Until when wear this mask, of fake happiness, of bitter taste?

How can we men, sleep at night,
When we do so much injustice to the one “we love”?
We men are making a fool of ourselves when tonight –
We’ll be forcing “our so-called love”

How can infuse in the male’s species’ minds and hearts.
That women are goddesses, the strongest
And most courageous souls, and of the two species, the best!
The rest will stand the test of true love in all human hearts.

Inspired by the admired daunting beauty of all loving women,
Regardless of race, age, face, creeds, or needs of women
Is my duty to dare share
things... somethings -

To share some important things:
I want you to know how anything that glare
is about you -
if I search far apart
in the most concealed regions of my heart
or look at laminated work of art in the sky, is you,

if I see
the spectacle of a flower bloom
or the miracle of a girl toddler soon boom
and courageous girl heroes righteous see,...is you I see

If I touch
in nonsuch dark park
a soft rose petal
or the soft green grass touch...is you I touch -

everything is out and about you,
as if each thing that live and is,
colors, fragrances, feelings, that and this,
were all streams of waters that converge in you,

and me being a stream that beams to you
like a light beam all streams beam to you...
now, if I perceive you everywhere somehow -
and if you don't see me, I’ll somehow see you in the now.

If suddenly
you departed to somewhere in infinity
i will depart too freely
and search everywhere in the infinite infinity
to find your divinity oh woman in me suddenly.

Inspired by the admired daunting beauty of all loving women,
You are forever infinite in inspiring beauty, oh women!
Because is my duty to dare share
all these non-shameless things... because of your flawless beauty I care! 

No man is stronger than a mother,
That withstands childbirth,
Every woman is a hero of another
Hero that cries afterbirth,
And of others that praise her glorious strength,
Oh, I sing thy glory oh woman at length!

If a father abandons the fragile heroes,
Like a Lion abandons the lioness, with her Cubs,
The mother is the hunter, the protector of foes,
And the role model of the cherubs,
As well as if a sole provider were
As well as if a legion of Angels care.

Any women's heroic sacrifices are sacred to me
Because I am the biggest admirer of thee,
And thy fervent supporter, for other heroines set us free,
As thou art divine, beautiful and admirable, I see,
Thou art the most precious blooming flowers
And the most famous divas and goddess with many followers!

I dreamed to fix the unfixed, broken lives
Diminished by all, failed marriages,
Despised in ages. The fall of abused wives
Of diminished moral, the demise of their dreams like mirages, They all in screams disappear with the abuse of their dear
And suffering and pain as the crew, they all endear -
As nearing in Plainview, their broken self-images.

We watch suffering, glowing like killing medusa's, self-luminous lights.
We are silent inactive observers, like travelers seeing
In a train passing by the ominous bright blights
Seeing an abused wife pleading to dwellers
For her rights to medusa like abusers and killers
To live a decent life away from their sights.

I dreamed to fix the unfixed, broken lives of wives
I tried and tried to stop the train of life,
But wouldn't stop. So, I jumped to save lives
Helping every abused woman or wife -
I am used of talking to men to respect their women
And for women to disallow disrespect from men
For bad omen come to men that women's life rife:

And at any moment that I dreamed
To fix the unfixed.
Your divine love, I dreamed, all men fixed.
So, all broken lives of women men fixed, I dreamed! 

Here I am with
The same dream
There were a team
Of women that with
Men meet. Here I am,
An advocate of women:
With the same fate. With gleam
Dreams, and severe complains of men.

The jury knew
The two teams, with fury
And their own savoury armoury,
Will defend their point of view.
The joint team of men, send a flurry
Of men's made anoint blend, of excuses
For causing women's penury:
For their relentless effusing flaming abuses -

To the Princesses, Goddess and Muses.
There were twelve men
And there were twelve women
In the jury. So no one truth misuses
And with untruth confuses. To end the cavemen omen.
The presiding judge, was a half God
And half Goddess. So no one loses, amen.
And justice men and women rejoice, under God.

It didn't take long for the long-awaited verdict:
This is a men ruled world, that women as less depict -
In a men dominated society. Let's end these injustices,
And in sobriety, may men not commit perjuries-
For healing all bruises
And ending all guises and disguises!
Here I am, a man with the same dreams
With my glowing team, all women with gleam dreams  

In the beginning, I was feeling outraged
With the law, when I saw the morning news,
What can you say, beyond being amazed
When you are speechless as worldview skews?

In the aftermath of man's chosen path and reviews,
I make my wrath known as the accuser, to the corrupted
And as the most known supporter, of women's views:
In any part of the world, where you lived

Or currently live. I raise my voice
And make a conscious choice
To tell all women and to tell your wife,
That you women, must change your life!

In the meantime. Why to embrace disgrace and abuse?
Don't use any possible excuse. Just raise united,
And stand for yourselves united, united!
Replace your self-imposed solace, by the life of a Muse!

In the end, make yourself known to man
As a Muse would, in their man's wrong world
That you are not to be used, you’re the Goddess woman!
Stop being a voice without a body to mold

Yourselves to men's amuse,
while being abuse and use! 

Painful choices a woman or wife must make in life,
And be certain, their voices to dust will be slain
And either their “uncertain” dealings or feelings will be strife
And neither emotional support, nor devotional rapport, see a highlife
Or brilliance and intelligence, won’t be acknowledged to her pain;

Should she turn the other cheek? Or should she fight for the right,
To don’t be mistreated day and night. To don’t be seeing as meek, To don’t be treated as weak, but to fight to be treated right! Because it is your destiny to be society’s royalty and delight Because without you is mutiny - your strength we need and seek:

We complement each other, you highlight every moment, we need one another,
Like a true partner, we are meant to be together, …and I just have to say…
I beg your forgiveness for all wrong, for all pain men to thee bother!
Oh, I wish men were some other beings, like a gentleman, like a brother,
For we are nothing without you! ... you lead the way every day!

Oh, women of the world, precious and lovely celestial being
I should be telling this, with the most compelling admiration I could:
From my deepest, I say, you are the best being, I have ever been seeing
You are in every season, the sweet reason of mankind’s wellbeing
Because, several difficult painful choices women must make, and they should.

Because we would not live without you, we humbly acknowledge your knowledge
And we humbly acknowledge, that without you, all good end at the edge:
Of a world that needs and pleads your forgiveness, we need you! In a world that is nothing, absolutely nothing without you. 

Nearly twenty, twenty! women per minute to be plenty;
Are being and seeing, physically abused, and unethically used by men,
And eighty, eighty! five percent, of domestic violence victims, is aplenty -
And ungently, relentlessly mistreated females, in the lion's-men's den!

In a sadly male dominated, madly male-imposed society
Women can only hope - some say -
That in men shall soon see sobriety
That is! What women hope to see,... In one glorious day.

Trouble, trouble and double the trouble,
That all females, of any race of any creed
Are daily, like with fire burn, and burn in a prison bubble;
Why plant bad seed? Is there a need,
of many, or any ill imposing deed?

Don't say I love you wife as a lame-plain use,
Don't say I love you again,.. when you abuse!
When like a petitioner of pain,
like an executioner, you kill like a murderer knife in vain;

What is the use of marriage,
when in infertile soil, love you misuse as a vile mirage?
There are already non-depending leading women,
That are demanding justice of equality with men;

But enough! Of the though and rough nonsense,
of the male species found-less pretense!
Who has giving you, the title of slaving Tiran and superiority?
Who gave you the right, to such inequality,

O men! Your legacies with such illegitimacies,
with no mercies, and inadequacies and fallacies
With lots and lots, of nonsense excuses
of your nonsense abuses!

What is the excuse of a relationship, with abuse,
with such ill tendencies of relentless abuse?
What about delicacies? Why not rescue the princesses? -
The divine muses!

Because your bad doings doubles,
with bad man soiling's, for double your troubles!
Why not let behind, days and nights of agonizing terror?
Why not let respect bloom, as a groom with no terrorizing error?

And let good gloom, the prison bubble humble
And why not change and bring good moments amiable?
beyond the range of unamicable recurring errors?
And you shaming men stop your useless terrors!

Fill your manhood, with loving motherhood!
And in brotherhood,
hide under goodness’ hood  to send all wrong,
to the deep abyss of oblivion long, long,

And for God's sake!
And It is all that would take,
to make oh men, all good,
and in love partake with your woman your manhood!

Long ago, I was betrayed. I waited longer
Than anticipated, to confront the man monster
That abused me when I was a kid....
So whether you are a father or doctor or priest, God forbid!
Look at what you did to kids men or women, you monster!

Long ago, I was overwhelmed with sorrow. You rescued
Me to let me go, along the narrow path, still wounded
Still bleeding, still mourning for your absence
Yet I’m still feeling, your astonishing presence
When I am whole or kneeling or wounded.

Long ago, I was betrayed, overwhelmed, and wounded
But now I know how to be with you,... still wounded.
When things went steep, long ago
I pondered deep long ago, and to thee I still always prayed to go.

Two main choices an abused princess have in life;
And one or the other, she must choose --
Either she chooses to win or lose--
Either in good concur or in the opposite strife;
Either paradise in life or in the afterlife;

And I hope she chooses to give herself permission,
To be happy, to be in healthy love with life now,
And the decision to serve and help others as her mission; Because death is a mere intermission, to fulfill the princesses vision
Though I do bow to the realm, where the living is disallow,

Had the Goddess opt for the other grandiose choice,
Somewhere else her life be
And a different path, she might not ever rejoice
Yet If both life, and after death paradise. I see in me--
Then the outvoice of wrong, your grace voice, so to you I voice,

For as long as I live, even when I no longer breathe
Two choices we have in life; but I say three the soul wreathe- One is the straight narrow path, that to freedom leads,
And the other, the suffering that being an abused woman sheathe, and pleads,
But. the third one exist, that makes every celestial choir sing, through good deeds:

I have committed my life, to draw smiles:
The battered woman, the abused kid and women needing,
The homeless, the damages of corruption on files -
Two choices we have in life, and on the other I suggest bidding -
On the choice of serving thee oh lord on unending miles:

Of exalting you, through loving others, beating any bad
And of freeing all battered women from the battered
Syndrome odd existing brad life existence women’s life saddened,
And exalting in hope and faith that all battered women are free from all bad!