Why do honey-bees sting?
And rose-thorns prick?
Why does pussy-juice stink,
And punish the generous lick?
It makes you think,
About contradiction’s symmetry,
Found only in poetry –
If the poet be aware…
When into this truth you stare,
The circle becomes more appealing,
Than the grounded, pointy square…
Good & Evil lose their meaning,
Though not their feeling,
To those who are aware…
You’ll loose your grip.
But do not despair,
The ground you fear you’ll hit,
Isn’t really there.
You’ll fall right back to where you were,
Only slightly more aware…
Spread the word to the uptight,
In constant pursuit of solidity!
Show them samples of your flight,
Through Mama-Nature’s fluidity!
And don’t expect much favor-returning,
But rather some at-the-stake burning…
So ‘Why bother?’ you ask,
It’s simply your natural motherly task,
To have your pussy,
To give way to new life,
Which was bred, fed and shapen,
By your bitter-sweet inner strife…
Our Mama’s quite strange,
But she ain’t gonna change.
And we can never ever escape her.
Nor even kill her…
So at least rejoice when you can,
And perhaps it’ll be contagious,
And highlight the parts of her plan,
That our wills find advantageous…
So, here’s the end of our course,
You are now ready to graduate,
And if your soul be a poetic life-source,
You should soon begin to menstruate!
With best wishes for much luck and love,
Sir Tijn Po