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if you are seriously listening
to genuine folk songs of the world

     not to the muzak that pervades all malls

after a while you find yourself
     floating into these worlds  of ancient tunes
     imagining an ambience  of ages past
whose melodies have kept their power over centuries
and still keep tickling legs and bodies
     in our days
     of young and old

these melodies of our ancestors
simply remind us that they,
     too,
did know a thing or two

about the joy
     of living
Diapers and politicians
need to be changed frequently
and for the same reasons

********

los panales y los politicos
hay que cambiarles a menudo
y por los mismos motivos
Women have rights,
Right to life and right to speech
Rights to love and be loved

Feelings and emotions running wild,
Right to vote and be voted for
Feelings of happiness running high


Not to be harassed or blackmailed,
Not to be abused and relegated
Women think too
Respect the girl child,
And tender her
Give her the right words
And build her ego

if a man can lead the world,
A woman can heal the world


Professor Marylyn-dolly©
On gender issues
Sequel to my poem A Mourner's tale

Her days turned darkness, as evil taunted her soul
Shattered she stood as the night fought her
Harrowing it was when time stood still
Fearful it were when he held her down
as he took away her reason to smile again
In a journey of ten minutes he took away her dreams alongside her innocence

There was no morning too bright to elude this darkest plight
There was no one to hold her again
No reason to smile
No light too bright

And then

I say

It was blinding how the sun pierced into her damaged soul
And when night came, she could not feel,
She could not see


It was shattering
It was shattering how pieces of her couldn't be mended again
And how these pieces spread beyond her life
It was shocking


It was shocking how her own mind questioned her existence
And how she lived through life, existing, but not living
It was monstrous*

It was monstrous how men could damage a flower so pure and beautiful
And how they go on damaging more flowers,
Crushing them and eluding them all of their innocence
It was blackening
Copyright professor Marylyn-Dolly
All rights reserved.
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