#2: MILK

MILK

Life is in her fluid dance

A dance with our hips in rhythm, well oiled

Hot liquid satiating your throat

Warm liquid sweetening your tongue

Give us drink, give us swallow

Build us up sons and daughters

Teach us to find life in a nipple between our teeth and pleasure on our knees

Here, through her, our minds are open to the vastness of mother universes Milky Way,

In each spectrum of seemingly vast empty space,

We are innumerable and significant teeming with life and purpose more than we can comprehend

Purpose we found in her

Strength in her fluidity

She is life

She is milk.

(Written by Tamilore for Poetic Justice)

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MILK

Dear diary (that I will soon misplace),

decisions with makes staged yesteryears ago

involving mannerless girls

and hairy women have taken on extremes.

The devil has been blamed for

sizable donations that have been made;

housegirls that have been sent away;

complexes boys grow out of, men fail to;

pregnancies that could not have been, mine;

coming first, within seconds, give or take.

Today,

bones ache,

teeth dull in poorer shape,

victims trade stories in a circle,

characters break.

Weaning takes under a year,

except for diabetic mothers

and their sweet, sweet babes.

(Written by Ovye for Poetic Justice)

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MILKED

[1]

When babies bawl at crescendos,

Then grow to speak in their parents voices

But with different lingos,

The all seeing neighbours would say,

‘Truly, they have been milked to invertive poises’.

[2]

When the masses trade their souls for fantasies,

Then give of their best fruits to the sellers

Of dreams, for his mastery;

The unreserved critics say,

‘Unwittingly, they’ve been milked to the nought of their cellars’.

[3]

As the shepherd watches over His teeming cow,

Then sees ahead, to the days its calves would leap for strength;

To learn, and stand firm, or sometimes bow.

He would nod and say,

‘This really is why, in vigilance my eyes should be wet’.

[4]

When coconuts crack between our resolute molars,

And yoghurt drops slide down our longing throats,

To tease worms, and appease stomached Homers;

We grin and say,

‘Of course, I have been milked of nature’s oat’.

[Written by XIII June for Poetic Justice]