If you’d win the game of life never sign as trophy wife,
Kiss_met bliss is lovers three:
one to cook, clean, fire for you,
one to sire four children too,
one to warm you now and then when you feel free.
If you’d win the game of life avoiding stress, frustration, strife,
plumb plum mystery:
make poppet do as told by you,
let others bend to fresher view,
Goddess with wings, pulls puppet’s strings, stings as Queen Bee.
If you’d win dice game of life, avoiding vice, Time’s jealous knife,
take good advice, thank rule of three:
one with new rings, one with few,
one guaranteed to watch those two,
years of false fears you’ll change for countless tears of glee!
If the game of life you’d win never take a husband in
for bed and board - you’ll soon be bored
with football, beer, words sharp as sword,
with cooking when he’s elsewhere looking,
or travel with assistant booking.
If family to build is billed, instill self-will, self-confidence, fulfilled.
If life's game you’d win begin!
Outlaw all inlaws' kit[sc]h and kin
At times adored at times bear mawed,
it's difficult to bear accord
when fool plays lord or won’t afford
all you deserve as just reward,
when you discover you mistook
bald cheek, beer reek, for strong good look,
for compromising beauty, brains,
when you yourself should hold firm reins.
If full blown family, home grown,
you’d own dethrone male chauvinists' drone groan.
Put preconceptions in tailspin,
banish guilty conscience, sin,
end male control of sex and soul,
compete to self-complete, stay whole.
You need, seed sown, one mantra only e'er intone:
Free, clone alone!
(15 April 2013 revised 12 September 2013)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem