The Soiled Madonna

The Soiled Madonna

To men who are MEN, searching for that unspoiled Madonna

A pretty face belies a deceptive heart
A curvaceous form,
You are snared from the start
Cause she knows you are an easy mark
Foolish man.

Her modus operandi is simply to snare
she mixes her mysterious brew with her stare
A potion that will render you feeble–
Engorged, aflame and snared by desire
She thrives on your brazen, passion fire!
Poor, simple, man.

This is the way of the worldly one.
Nothing more than a sophisticated vamp
A kinder word than lowly tramp
This is no angel from above
Only a demon from the pit of hell
Who lies in wait to ring your bell!

She lacks virtue and honesty
Knows nothing of love with dignity
Lacking in backbone, no integrity
She is a selfish, self serving entity
This woman feigns a life of God!

Buyers beware of her importuner's snare.
She'll leave you with a thump and a vicious glare!
Your soul tarnished and heaped in the dump!
A lowly tramp who perverts holy verse.

But a woman of virtue –
Oh, she knows the way!
From your heart or your soul she'll never stray…
Not from Good, or God, or – Godly ways.

She will not approach you like a thief in the night
To snare or to woo with delirious brew
Nor enter your bed until she inquires
As to the intents and purpose of those desires
For she wants to cleave to the God in you;
Not to woo you from that lofty place
Or to leave you shamed, hurt, disgraced.
NO!!

What she wants is to share integrity
Never to diminish intellect or dignity.
She moves with you and not without
She is altogether righteous–without a doubt.
Wants nothing more than your success;

Love, respect and happiness.
This is a good woman.

Not given to jealousy, control or tests
This is a beautiful woman.
A truly, virtuous woman,
She defies the rest.

To all who are longing for love,
Beware the vamp, the lowly tramp!
She will catch you while your pants are down
Render you feeble, a harlots clown!

The sophisticated vamp,
Just a Madonna for fools,
Will lead you astray
Was so easy to do.

So your mind is polluted I'm afraid to say
With your heart and your soul did you stray
You were duped by a vamp, dumped by a tramp,
Wooed, tattooed and left with her stamp.


Foolish man who cannot see
Beyond a guise of femininity.
Open your eyes now and see her through
You are on your way to the harlots zoo.

But a man who is wise?
Will not be drawn
To the harlots mask that changes dawn
His eyes see through those just like you
He is not seduced by utter flooze.

For the fortuitous man who is led by his soul
And not by the garments that boldly expose
The harlots cleavage, or derriere…
This man is winner and champions discipline
He has tamed his ego and sees through the guise
His eyes are wide open, no stars in his eyes!

And the women like her?
Oh! They will never, ever, do
For the champ is a thoroughbred with a mind like you!
Champ of a man—
No soiled, despoiled, tainted, Madonna
Can ever woo, seduce, vanquish you!!


© 10-17-2005


by Yaffa

Re: The Soiled Madonna

Sorry, I don't know what I am doing…and i think I didn't  put my poems in the right place..

Where do you put them??

Re: The Soiled Madonna

Hi Yaffie. Wow quite a poem. It is long enough to satisfy most readers. Poems can be seen as resumes and treated the same. No criticism intended. I am impressed at how much writing you have accomplished. In U. I was often criticized for my writing style, and a prof. asked if I wrote poetry and suggested that the two are total opposites in the spectrum and that my long time poetics were holding more academic writings from appearing. Only now do I see his point clearly. Not just you or this poem but from many on Gaia who are obvious academics, who I now realize are stifled by voice as I , but in the reverse sense. I have taken a U. specialized poetry course six students with one poet prof. for one year. This is where I was conditioned into the virtues of free verse. If I can help in your poetry endeavour in any way, esp. as my name indicates, Nit Picker, my background is in anthropology, I am at your or any other Gaians who would  appreciate , hopefully , constructive criticism. Thanks for the poem and I will read it again. A. Rhubarb

Re: The Soiled Madonna

Thank you, alex…

comment and critique on…i personally wrote this 'off the cuff'…..it wasn't something that i sat to do, it was something that rose up inside of me as an affront to the injustice of women using men, of all the stories that my men friends mostly told me about the motives of women…

so, off the cuff, is not perfection….
I am open…
I just write..
from my gut…

my soul..

let it rip!!
btw, whenever i submitted something as 'poetry' my professor told me, its not poetry, its lyrics…and i have never understood the difference, nor was i endeavoring to write lyrics, but alas, over the past 20 years, that's exactly what i have done…written lyrics, music, and poetry…have no clue which is which…lol. I wrote some prose, the musician tells me, what a rythmn!! And I? …i have no clue..

yaffa

Re: The Soiled Madonna

Hi yaffie. Let me say that for “off the cuff” unworked material this is an achievement in my opinion. I must say that the passion that carries you through this piece is the grout of the poem.

With regards to the diff. between a poem and lyrics. A poem can and generally does stand alone. It does not need or encourage additional form or medium. The poem is a medium . A medim for entrained thoughts.Which is why your poem could be written “off the cuff” I hope this makes sense, and not verbosity to you. Lyrics can be spun off and you here all the time how so-and-so wrote this on the plane etc..

The poem comes in all sorts of shapes and sizes from sonnets to free form. The sameness of all is that are all individual impressions, bundled up waiting to be unpacked like a picnic basket, or luggage on vacation.

Lastly, great poems are long lasting and perhaps great lyrics evolve into great poems with age, many skipping songs ring around the rosey, childrens verses, ie. London Bridge in my opinion reflect this transition.
Sorry to be so. long for so little, I get like that