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Sandra A. Mushi

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Member Since: May, 2005

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Lady of The Night - II
by Sandra A. Mushi

Tuesday, June 21, 2005
Rated "R" by the Author.
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Recent poems by Sandra A. Mushi
•  Desire (erotic)
•  My First Time (erotic)
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•  The Moments
•  Silence of The Lamb
           >> View all 40


 

At twelve I was kicked out of school
Got pregnant because I flaunted my tool
From home my parents threw me out
Better of dead than the shame, they did shout
Pre-maturely a baby girl was born
Soon after she died but I didnít mourn
Work I did try so hard in getting
Cleaning, washing and even farming
Many doors were banged on my face
The men lusted while the women wished they had mace
For food in my mouth and clothes on my back
A little wanton I became as had to do only thing I got the knack
I wanted more when I heard itíd get more and easier in town
Left the village carrying a paper bag with one gown
For a roof over my head, a place to dwell
Got pimped, doped and beaten up well
A couple of times over and over got raped
To keep the dough rolling and feel alive I got doped
The wam bams another pregnancy they brought
As using protection was hardly a thought
Wasnít ready nor keen to be a mother
So getting rid of it wasnít at all a bother
Some even back entry they wanted
Ugly, fat, dirty, short, on me they all panted
Some wanted no protection
Money was sweet so I didnít think of infection
So many tricks by the pros I was taught
And all the good corners I sought
I learnt to spike their drinks
Steal from him when in deep sleep he sinks
Oh how easy this money is to get
And for it I donít have to sweat
Just use my God given assets
And I can sleep and eat and even buy a TV set
Miriam has left with the expatriate from Holland
Saraphina got the one from Polland
Beautiful houses they even have
A car or two and they didnít even have to save
Such gold I must also strike
Need a witch doctorís potions to make them like
Another baby soon made its way
For me there was only one say
ďGet rid of it Ö flush it Ö of it goes ÖĒ
Destroying my dream, it sure will be the cause
Always hanging out at 4 or 5-star hotel
All the gold where there we all could tell
Such establishments didnít allow was our so-called tribe
John and Omar the security guards we had to bribe
Sometimes we would pay him in cash
Sometimes in kind then smoke some hash
At the Royal Palm Miriam Makeba today is performing
If Iím lucky might get a hot shot outside roaming
Gate-crashing big parties is no problem at all
All dressed up trying not look like a ho in the hall
I see some have started leaving
To their posh cars they are heading
Perfect time to make my way inside
No securities around, to break my stride
Inside I can get if quietly I sneak
Wonít be noticed if I donít make a squeak
Looking around most seem to be in doubles
Canít go up to someone pretending to be their couple
Couldnít come all this way and not get a punch


Let me wait maybe I will get lucky and money for lunch
I see phones, camera and bags everywhere


To eat this week I must get one or at least a pair
Oh that lady puts a phone in a black bag
And a camera she shoves in and puts out a fag
Donít know what that other thing is but who cares
Always see John, Peter and Henry with one but never in pairs
Bitch seems to have it so painlessly
I bet everything for her is effortlessly
Living the bag with friends to watch it over
She's gone across the hall maybe to see a lover
Swish swaying around like she own the goddamn place
Her bloody types don't even have to beg for panties or lace
They have degrees and jobs to sustain their every yearn 
Look at them yapping away in foreign tongues to those men 
You'd think the Holy Spirit is in them in the bold
Bitches seem not to have a care in world
Good! Her friends are getting up to go dance
No waitresses, no security, this is my chance
Bitch can ask for another one in some foreign tongue
I don't have such luck nor do I have the lung
Thank you, I can now get my cocaine, a beer and morning tea
Like a panther, I grab the handbag and now flee



 

 

Copyright Sandra A. Mushi . All rights Reserved
  
 
 
 

... the ladies are still hunting at night ...
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Reviewed by Mary Coe 12/19/2007
This was very interesting reading.
Reviewed by Ingrid Khola (Reader) 5/9/2006
Brutal but real.Questionable choices indeed.Excellent write right till the end, gud work Sandra!
Reviewed by Regis Auffray 1/28/2006
A stark portrait of dark reality. Thank you, Sandie. Love and peace to you,

Regis
Reviewed by OnepoetGem *the Poetic Rapper 1/27/2006
quite a poetic story Sandra, very well rhymed
Reviewed by Ian Thorpe 7/16/2005
ditto, you maintain the pace and energy right through.
Ian
Reviewed by Ronald Hull 6/30/2005
Survival in the street--not so sweet. You got her covered, girl.

Ron
Reviewed by Aberjhani 6/22/2005
A straight-up no-holds-barred shot of social realism executed with admirable lyrical style and in-your-face-God-is-my-witness honesty. Loved it to pieces Ma'am:-)
Reviewed by Paul Williams 6/22/2005
Wow! Sandi, this is a superbly brutal and honest write about the realities of this kind of life...excellent dear lady.

Paul;-}
Reviewed by Handsum Hart 6/21/2005
A gripping write, from start to finish. Life can be brutal sometimes.

Take care
Reviewed by E T Waldron 6/21/2005
Some people love this life and choose it, but for those who don't it is a living hell. You wrote of it very honestly and well, Sandi! Thanks for sharing...

Blessings,
Eileen
Reviewed by Karen Lynn Vidra, The Texas Tornado 6/21/2005
hardhitting write, sandie, but very well done! brava!

(((HUGS))) and much love, your friend in america, karen lynn. :( >tears <
Reviewed by Jerry Bolton (Reader) 6/21/2005
I can't impprove on what I said about your first "Lady of the Night" poem, so I'll just repeat it. You write a very thought-provoking poem here, but I still maintain that most people are thieves because they WANT to be thieves.
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