Women

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The truth is, every son, raised by
a single mom is pretty much born
married. I don't know, but until
your mom dies it seems like all the
other women in your life can never
be more than just your mistress.

Category: Poetry

Maria, lonely prostitute on a
street of pain, You, at least,
hail me and speak to me While a
thousand others ignore my
face. You offer me an hour of
love, And your fees are not as
costly as most. You are the
madonna of the lonely, The
first-born daughter in a world of
pain. You do not turn fat men
aside, Or trample on the
stuttering, shy ones, You are
the meadow where desperate
men Can find a moment's
comfort. Men have paid
more to their wives To know a
bit of peace And could not walk
away without the guilt That
masquerades as love. You do not
bind them, lovely Maria, you
comfort them And bid them
return. Your body is more
Christian than the
Bishop's Whose gloved hand
cannot feel the dropping of my
blood. Your passion is as
genuine as most, Your caring as
real! But you, Maria,
sacred whore on the endless
pavement of pain, You, whose
virginity each man may make his
own Without paying ought but
your fee, You who know nothing
of virgin births and immaculate
conceptions, You who touch
man's flesh and caress a
stranger, Who warm his bed to
bring his aching skin
alive, You make more sense than
stock markets and football
games Where sad men beg for
virility. You offer yourself
for a fee - and who offers himself
for less? At times you are
cruel and demanding - harsh and
insensitive, At times you are
shrewd and deceptive - grasping and
hollow. The wonder is that at
times you are gentle and
concerned, Warm and
loving. You deserve more
respect than nuns who hide their
sex for eternal love; Your fees
are not so high, nor your prejudice
so virtuous. You deserve more
laurels than the self-pitying
mother of many children, And
your fee is not as costly as
most. Man comes to you
when his bed is filled with brass
and emptiness, When liquor has
dulled his sense enough To know
his need of you. He will come
in fantasy and despair,
Maria, And leave without
apologies. He will come in
loneliness - and perhaps Leave
in loneliness as well. But you
give him more than soldiers who win
medals and pensions, More than
priests who offer
absolution And sweet-smelling
ritual, More than friends who
anticipate his death Or
challenge his life, And your
fee is not as costly as
most. You admit that your
love is for a fee, Few women
can be as honest. There are
monuments to statesmen who gave
nothing to anyone Except their
hungry ego, Monuments to
mothers who turned their
children Into starving, anxious
bodies, Monuments to Lady
Liberty who makes poor men
prisoners. I would erect a
monument for you - who give
more than most - And for a
meager fee. Among the
lonely, you are perhaps the
loneliest of all, You come so
close to love But it eludes
you While proper women march to
church and fantasize In the
silence of their rooms, While
lonely women take their
husbands' arms To hold them
on life's surface, While
chattering women fill their closets
with clothes and Their lips
with lies, You offer love for a
fee--which is not as costly as
most-- And remain a lonely
prostitute on a street of
pain. You are not immoral,
little Maria, only tired and
afraid, But you are not as
hollow as the police who pursue
you, The politicians who jail
you, the pharisees who scorn
you. You give what you promise
- take your paltry fee -
and Wander on the endless,
aching pavements of pain. You
know more of universal love than
the nations who thrive on
war, More than the churches
whose dogmas are private vendettas
made sacred, More than the tall
buildings and sprawling
factories Where men wear
chains. You are a lonely
prostitute who speaks to me as I
pass, And I smile at you
because I am a lonely man.

Category: Attitude

Man may have discovered fire, but
women discovered how to play with
it!

Related Tags:

Man Women Men Woman

Category: Death

We die containing a richness of
lovers and tribes, tastes we have
swallowed, bodies we have plunged
into and swum up as if rivers of
wisdom, characters we have climbed
into as if trees, fears we have
hidden in as if caves. I wish
for all this to be marked on by
body when I am dead. I believe in
such cartography - to be marked by
nature, not just to label ourselves
on a map like the names of rich men
and women on buildings. We are
communal histories, communal books.
We are not owned or monogamous in
our taste or experience.

Category: God

You see, women have been essential
to every great move of God. Yes,
Moses led the Isaelites out of
Egypt, but only after his mother
risked her life to save him! Closer
to our time, Clara Barton was
instrumental in starting the Red
Cross. Harriet Beecher Stowe's
Uncle Tom's Cabin put fire into
people's heart to end slavery in
the United States. Rosa Parks
kicked the Civil Rights movement
into gear with her quiet act of
courage. Eunice Kennedy Shriver
created the Special Olympics.
Mother Teresa inspired the world by
bringing love to countless thought
unlovable. And millions of other
women quietly change the world
every day by bringing the love of
God to those around them.

Category: Women

You see, women have been essential
to every great move of God. Yes,
Moses led the Isaelites out of
Egypt, but only after his mother
risked her life to save him! Closer
to our time, Clara Barton was
instrumental in starting the Red
Cross. Harriet Beecher Stowe's
Uncle Tom's Cabin put fire into
people's heart to end slavery in
the United States. Rosa Parks
kicked the Civil Rights movement
into gear with her quiet act of
courage. Eunice Kennedy Shriver
created the Special Olympics.
Mother Teresa inspired the world by
bringing love to countless thought
unlovable. And millions of other
women quietly change the world
every day by bringing the love of
God to those around them.

Category: Women

The chief excitement in a woman's
life is spotting women who are
fatter than she is.

Helen Rowland

Category: Mothers

The real religion of the world
comes from women much more than
from men - from mothers most of
all, who carry the key of our souls
in their bosoms.

Oliver Wendell Holmes

Related Tags:

Religion Men Women Society Politics Faith Woman

Category: Women

And verily, a woman need know but
one man well, in order to
understand all men; whereas a man
may know all women and understand
not one of them.

Helen Rowland

Related Tags:

Men Man Women Woman

Category: Mothers

All women become like their
mothers. That is their
tragedy. No man does. That's his.

Oscar Wilde

Related Tags:

Man Women Men Woman

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