Andrew Tate would hate you

for locking your body away.  

He believes that women should be 

raped and made prey, scream and not

heard, constantly available

to worship him on pedestals.

His pillars thick as tissue paper;

pyramids of tin.

 

What would Tate make of medieval mystic sisters

who write a revolutionary Jesus

is our Mother, God the Holy Daughter?

The first female author to take

the common pen, spread her precious

message in a language free of hierarchy,

make us understand that an anchoress’s hand

holds the key:

fluid is the Host.

The Holy Ghost is everybody.

 

So let him stamp his manly feet

for he is dull and incomplete                         

and you were rare and radical,

counsel-kept and iron will.

And what does Tate give to his men

but bitter whistles, broken bells?

Your heart would take his hatred hostage.

Hir name es Julyan of Norwich.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Julian_of_Norwich