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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=389946" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Death Of Goddesses</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">It used to be hard<br>for women,<br>snowed in their white lives,<br>white lies,<br>to write books<br>with that fine frenzy<br>which commends genius<br>to posterity,<br>yet estranges it<br>from its closest<br>friends.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Women were friends to all,<br>& being too friendly<br>they could not command<br>the unfriendly prerogatives<br>of genius,<br>though some were<br>geniuses still,<br>destroying<br>only themselves<br>with the torment<br>of the unfriendly ghost<br>trapped in a friendly<br>form.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Oh the women who died<br>dissembling friendship<br>for the world! <br>Oh the women who turned<br>the dagger inward<br>when it wished<br>to go out,<br>who impaled themselves<br>on Womanhood itself! </div><div style="margin:10px 0">No vampire<br>could be<br>as greedy for blood,<br>no father or husband<br>as bullying.<br>A woman punishing herself<br>with her own pain<br>is a fierce opponent indeed.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">It is self against self,<br>dagger to dagger,<br>blood of her blood,<br>blood of her daughter,<br>blood of her mother,<br>her menses, her moon,<br>all pooled together,<br>one crimson sea.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">It is the awful auto da fé,<br>the sublime seppuku,<br>Sante Sebastiana<br>as archer<br>& victim too.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The arrow flies from her bow.<br>She runs, fleet as Diana,<br>& stops it<br>with her breast.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Enough! <br>cried the Women-Who-Cared.<br>Henceforth we will turn<br>our anger where it belongs.<br>We will banish the whitest lies.<br>We will speak the black truth as it is.<br>Our father- we spit back their sperm.<br>Our husbands- we spit back their names.<br>Our brothers- we suck back our love.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The self-righteous inherit the earth,<br>& anger speaks louder that love.<br>Love is a softness<br>the weak cannot afford,<br>& sex a Darwinian bribe.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">But who wants the earth as a gift<br>when it is empty as space,<br>when women grow hard<br>as bronze madonnas<br>& Diana loves only her stag? </div><div style="margin:10px 0">When Persephone stays in hell<br>the entire year,<br>then how can spring<br>begin?</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Erica+Jong">Erica Jong</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=389946" data-title="The Death Of Goddesses de Erica Jong" data-description="It used to be hard
for women,
snowed in their white lives,
white lies,
to write books
with that fine frenzy
which commends genius
to posterity,
yet estranges it
from its closest
friends.

Women were friends to all,
& being too friendly
they could ..."></div>
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