Striving for Survival Part 2, Unless I escape in time


The Lord said, ‘I have seen my people in bondage, and I have heard their cry,’” “I know their sorrows, and I have come to deliver them from the hand of evil men and lead my people out of that sorrowful place, to a land flowing with milk and honey.” 


I say this in voiceover as they carry me through the woods.

To save myself  from the abusive plight.

Bone-chilling words I would direct at a wealthier yeoman

or a more ambitious female Moses,

who would come as was her duty,

quivering like a leaf,

to bow down to me and ask for my blessing –


to experience a nervous breakdown,

to cast out my humanity when necessary,

to be raped, beaten,

to endure what it cannot be endured,

to survive my evildoers and the whole twisted nazi society

and to become a blooming superhero. 

Mars exulti!

behold the cruel patterns of the past and the future.

do not let the premonitions dry up

to be ready to be picked up

in fear of being forgotten,

while a fluorescent streetlight of Jailer

stare at me with a flaming eye. Aflame in anger.


Due to toxic gases .. public hangings are everyday.

with prayer, as well as participating in pulling a rope, stoning, too ..

Chaotic stoning all day long

paranoically mumbling to myself – The stones, the damn stones…



To wear the wrong dress, to be fertile Unwoman,

 forcing slave to die in poisonous colonies to work  

 until I fall apart, piece by piece of my body

or be sent as concubine from home to home,

to men with  their tail a third part of the stars in heaven

and on my head a garland of twelve stars

to be raped in an obscene, profane ceremonial ritual

we, girls are raped at 14 while forcing us to pray to the Lord 

unreal, maddened eyes sow fear followed by a raging disease and death!


It hurts being clothe with a moon

As that woman about to give birth in front of the dragon

particular misshapen friend

deal a powerful blow,

with a knife in the chest,

and then to devote insane

and grotesque calls

which left me mute a

and in the most horrific of pain


The blade was laid in the carved bone

and the altar, an ancient image of divinity

will speak the tongue of bones tonight.


that.. Being.. Revelation woman..

Her head peeked beyond all countless spirals

painted much in the same manner,

that way putting herself in the center of microcosm

of all-encompassing universality of nature,

becoming a role model for humanity.


My look at the city was one of prison. I

am here – behind bars.

This is a city in the middle of a prison.

Unless I escape in time.

Into the wilderness as is a desolate place

And full of serpents and scorpions,

“travailing in birth, and pained to be delivered”


The forest unbathed by an ocean of blood
An unhealed wound beneath the hot navel
The unpierced rib in the deciding battle
A lonely nest devoid of it’s eagle.


My mortal body with immortal progeny!
I summon the Heavens to bow down to my tentacles
Folded into a clenched fist!


longing for [the girl] friend’s embrace/and between females


longing for [the] friend’s embrace


the way I hate when men many dedicate a poem to me

there is something aforesaid in this, foreshadowing.. unnatural with regard to excessive polishing of swords

for sacrifice, sheep slain of copper

Covered with roast beef

hard and black and dead

whatever this Bovinity meant to say to me

there may be something Beef noodles in there

at times plaster and bovine hair of  a

Erebus locus of all the

scuffle of

my 42 sternward nudities (run sprung unstrung wrung

bursting to light across my desolate shore, but still I

shrunk and run and brunt recording beef smile and

Boast of the grief (very occasionally journeying a roar)

he saw me not borgne Chelbt the Necessity of what is


Lo! of hundreds who fuck trampling female


bestowed a right to the portion

of a camel

algebraic hécatombe  Bearing a pack of

quiescent Venus clay

out  budding what a sweet creature

she has sweet prehistoric uvula Arabian Serbian

bud, fuzz grows above sweat glands, sweet odour

let’s..  then,, Zéphir s’ et le présage Faire crac-crac

niqer sauter…

out Se masturber, se branler en face..out en face


out en face merrily did we drop a sort of

Merrily did we drop a sort of incandescent beef

who will kill and eat

And between females means….



And between females

yoking through your half-moon of the pond

Beyond  Cyrene, beyond the throne of snares

Beyond Atalanta and moon hills

of the chariot, you came, fell weak tugs

and my delicious back

with her knife swells with the desire of betray


My want dives silky hair

Is glistening

The straining immortal kisses

Of the toxic breed of my betrayal friend

In the arms of  Hypatia gender

bronze-tipped javelin, wild breast on the battlefield

a sentient being,  a huntress companion and swore to remain unwed

to a heart in sweet tine


although she be of purple impressing flowers

rounded gently breasts strewed upon the trampled gilly


And grass between her legs bringing me a cloth.

Drops of water fell

stay here, here is my tomb, a real pint

is not only perdu, my darling, but perdu and perdu and perdu.




Have you not.


A long live hatred

O long-lived one

Hatred my life your/mine levedy love is that I hate

By the knives of circumstance,

And the last sacred backstabbing

In enchanted mourner’s bloom

But shall a gate of red fire tomb fall aside

Or have you not, sedulously full fifty filthy dull dull

Mots, same as beef, Beefinity, as merry as the

Sunrises between the devil’s horns

Have you not.


and what in my secret old shrine will happen

pipes the dithyrambs

and grieving serene

I am still grieved you sorely on my shore

Ere the lifeboat serene long

Add it to and long que doas domnas

A sicknesse, that may be hele

Phisicien, a matineuse aurora

a flail a




I hate your womanly love above all else

My disgust and despair led

My heart to the harvest of hunger.

Chacun retrouve les peines

Death companion newer still

as we parted for the canopy for eternity



…the ugliest…


Even a man’s footprints of beef.


At least I shall know it wasn’t you.

It wasn’t you, harridan

It wasn’t you.

Don’t miss my poem published by The Woman Inc. magazine!


A compelling rape poem from Serbia.


So I mature like a corpse flower
My pulchritudinous petals reach up for light
And they come to me like flies to rotting meat.

This is the world of lies
Of thirsty angels who die
While still appearing angelic
They’ve lost their shine

Have you ever been raped?
You should join me like a vampire
You’ll be bitten for a limitless life
For a never ending night of screeching sodomy…


Read more:



I am Hyperborean, Atlantean Leila Samarrai, editor: Pamela Sinicrope, The Second Version

I am a Hyperborean living in Serbian land.
I am an Atlantean living in Serbian land.

The pillars of Hercules, I am an inspiration
To the writings of Plato and Ignatius Donnelly.
I am a visitor to the magnificent Garden of Eden.
I kiss earthly gold and walkthrough the ocean.

We mock the poor Hyperboreans, dreaming of
Thrace’s winds. BUT In one horrible day we died, Trampled by a hairy brethren of elephants. In one Horrible day and one night, we sank into the ocean, Lost in poverty, lost in war, Lost in fear, veiled and Suppressed by men, struggling, remembering.
I was once a Hyperborean woman
Who fed her swans, watching them fly in the wind.
I did not die in a world of myths, I was once defense
Counsel at The Battle of Thermopylae. Apollo used Me to spread his doctrine to other nations, to be sung by a dying swan..

“More Geese than Swans now live, more Fools than Wise.”

I embraced my swans in a love embrace   I embraced my shadow and sang no more.

I am a Hyperborean living in Serbian land.
I am an Atlantean living in Serbian land.

THE ABDUCTION OF THE SABINE WOMEN, “The Second Birth Of Tragedy”, Leila Samarrai


Long ago already in the canvas of blood

a sun comes out for Romulus
While the other dons in golden robes

the shadows on the faces of the Sabine women
Among flowers, abducted on a holy day.

„Invite them for Neptunalia”
Neptune said
And shook
The sea foam of his feet.

The shadow trusts everything of the light.

The Sabine women emptied
The spiced sea wines

With the blessing of Poseidon
Rings the laughter of the villain – god
A herd of horses swarms at them

The tore the veil of the Sabine brides

in Latium
О, bride, what dreamt you

in the night of holy rape?

Decorated necropolis
And love on the altar
The miserable concede to everything
The silver has its wisdom.

Brandy for the tzars
Who brought gifts
Should the glow of all the bitter things

spoil the game?

Like Prus on the battle field,

Tarpeia storms the Rome

„To war! I care!
Too early peace on

tongue was born.”

New century to the womb
New emperor on the throne
Force creates new herds
History is giving birth