TO MOTHER

Men, the fruit of our wombs,

Have launched an attack

Growing up and loving each other

Leaving our sisters for our brother

What is happening to mankind?

What is happening to womankind?

Woman, searching for a husband and father

To   complete her capacity to mother

And, she needs the man, she needs a brother

Dear mother, Men are plotting together

A genocide that is far greater than Hitler

The annihilation of the human race

Spitting ingratitude in God’s face

For the sister He has given

For the rib he has taken

I feel so damn threatened,

 By homosexuality,

A clear attack on humanity,

Mother, what is our strategy?

To support this, you ask too much of me!!!

Mother, anyone who supports an attack is an ally

And if it’s against his nation he is a traitor

She is a traitor...

Women, we are under attack

Must we now support that nature?

We need our men, we need our brothers.

We need them to be fathers and to be lovers

I feel so damn threatened,

 By homosexuality.

Copyright©2013 by Camille Caliscia Patrick

CLUELESS

He stood up proud, heart pounding, 
Eyes dilated, sweat dripping 
With a broad smile stretched from ear to ear
As palm met palm in his act of standing ovation.
With a mustered up joule or two of energy
He shouted encore, encore, e-n-c-o-r-e!
And Impressive, was the word of his day
For it ran through the auditorium
With sprints of countless echoes
And, she looked on, taking in the show
Listening to the cheers
Regretting the time wasted
For this was no mirror act,
It was no rehearsal,
It was no cast pitched across
The stage of an imagination
Else she would have understood.
It was her lover playing the role
Of both actor and audience, again!
Applauding himself in an empty auditorium
While his lady sat in the back seat, in the dark
With her head bowed in shame
For she was absolutely unimpressed!
Copyright©2013 by Camille Caliscia Patrick

QUAGMIRE

Hunted like a wild animal,

Cornered to the whims

 Of a predator,

He was trapped!

Ambushed, with no route of escape

To fight now or believe the truth,

Was his stark dilemma

And he had no power to overcome

For he was inclined to surrender

Slave to his errors,

And there were many,

Errors of omission, that is

Enticed, knowingly returning

To that point of juxtaposition,

Where love and hate recline

Bowing daily to the wile

Of the weakness- inside

Hating the predator outside

Loving the predator inside

Not willing to contend

With the overpowering desire,

To enjoy what he had grown used to.

Slave to his habits,

And there were many,

Errors of commission, that is

He was deceived, failing to see

 That there was one enemy

And he could fight,

Passively or actively

If he believed

That no gambit,

No stratagem, no snag,

Plot, ploy or artifice

Could ever befit him

Copyright©2013 by Camille Caliscia Patrick