Lady V.- Karem Barratt



The second time I stopped believing in God,

I realized there has been always been

Something in me which had never let me down.

Something which had forged my identity,

Unravelled myself up in ecstasy and

And brought me as close as it could, to godhood.

Hence, I sang to Lady V,

The goddess of many names and

Secrecies, loathed and beloved in equal

Measure, right from when she was built

As figurine, all breast and majestic, welcoming pubis.

With no facer nor eyes, to her new counterpart,

Insinuating, pressing herself behind a thin

Veil in Instagram.

Like many a deity before, she has

Been humiliated, mutilated, her blood

Seen as a magical force, to some for good,

To others for wrong. As Kali, there are those

Who fear her power, and like her, she can change

A person to a point of death and rebirth, many a

Non-believer curling his toes and screaming for  god,

Any god, when being enveloped by her.

She’s Aphrodite, demanding her lovers to be on

Their knees and kiss her with every kiss ever written,

From the sweet lick of the humming bird to the devouring

Mouthful of a tiger. She is the portal to the cavern

Of life, where she baptized me a goddess of creation,

Demeter gestating her Persephone, the sun and the moon

Coming together to spark a new being in the darkness of

My womb. As the followers of other rites, hers have suffer

Persecution, dissolution, diminution, execution,

Brain washing, even. And yet, it is her who give us our remarkable attribution,

Our identity, and under her aegis we are all sisters, from

La Patagonia to Tasmania, as we still discover

Her mysteries, hidden behind de revulsion and false revolution,

Those who fear her have cover her beauty with.

The second time I stopped believing in God, I recognized the deity in me.

So now I sing to my vagina: goddess, Creatrix, the mirror I identify with.

Ode to Lady V, Divine Regina, Benedicta, eternally,

Mother, lover, woman, warrior, crone,

The badge of honour that unites half of world.

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