The flaming beauty’s anticipated,
in preparation they make her a bed.
For all through the winter they have waited,
and they have nothing but hope in their heads;
of the departure of seasons of death.
Arranging a feast with fire in their hearts,
in optimism their belief is fed.
The renewal of life and a fresh start’s
prophetic in their art. They know their grief will part.

Fervid in dreams assurance is rooted,
in all the blessings that Brigid will bring.
Empyreal a Godess reputed,
her touch gives radiance to everything;
in her conception she is inspiring.
The wonder of love and life she donates,
is ablaze their desires are
Seeds of their wishes are planted they wait,
for spring its bloom ornate, in its grace they relate.

Gentle in nature orbs mother is mild,
her revival of spirits admired.
Protector of women and every child,
in her passion all violence is expired;
and in her healing all hurt is retired.
Prolific, gestating in her rebirth,
she casts away all the cold and tired;
nursing the sun she will give to the earth.
Lights flicker in their hearths, for Brigid and her worth.

Excuse Me

Excuse me while

I clear my throat

of your hands

and let my

brain devote

to spit out the

memories of

your anger placed

on my neck and

in my face.

Excuse me while

I’ve had to delve

choice-less back to

two thousand

and twelve

when your hands

around my throat

were placed and

your anger was

in my face.

So please fuck off

when you say you cared

you’re not an abuser

but you refuse

to address

the truth

that love

doesn’t cause

post traumatic stress.

My Name Is Not Babe

I really don’t think

your testosterone

powered senses of

entitlement are cute

and I dispute

your male privilege

to call me babe

just because I wear

a fucking dress.

It’s not charming

in all honesty

it’s alarming

that you think

it’s respectful

and acceptable

to speak to

a grown woman in

a derogatory way

to try to make them

feel in someway

charmed by a

pathetic and small

needy male who

in reality

is probably

a complete fail.

My name is not

fucking babe.

My name is not babe,

it’s not sweetheart,

chick, bitch or darling

and I am disarming

your hormonal

and chauvinistic right

because you think

I am a fucking skirt.

My name is not babe

It’s a creepy

and predatory

way to behave

and I am done with

all the wanking

misogynists who

can’t even address

me by my fucking name.