Marta Luzim’s Writing the Wave: Mama Stop!

I wanted to tell you Mama, as you died, as you sat drugged on anti-psychotic medication, barely breathing, feeding tube up your nose and down your throat, because you refused to eat. I wanted to tell you Mama, as you threw me down the stairs, pulled my hair, slapped me across the face, tried to drown me in a tub of sudsy water when I was six. Mama I wanted to tell you as you held a knife to my throat, stood on the ledge of our window in your bra and underpants, rain pouring down and you wanted to jump and kill yourself. Mama I wanted to tell you, no, scream at you, no, grab you by the hair, squeeze your breasts and grasp your cold hands and say “STOP. STOP YOU CRAZY BITCH. I NEED TO BELONG TO YOU!”

Marta Luzim’s Writing the Wave: Mama, Your Body is Mine

Green, red, sky clouds of swimming blue

Lavender, squirrels, shapes of bushes wave

Huge oaks, roots groping into the earth

Majestic house of soul, large windows, waving blossoms of light

Coolness in the air with warmth that flutters through the breeze

This is life mama, this is life mama.

Mama. You taught me to say, Fuck, cunt, bite, pull, eat shit, vomit, dump explode. Mama this life, all of this

Warm, exited touches of heat, voices calling whispers

Deep longing

Comfort, nourishment, stomach filled with medicine of community

Wild Gods and Goddesses

Gift of unbridled passion

Do you hear me mama?

Touch and ignite the cosmic orgasm

Releasing all hurt, pain, holes of despair, pockets of longing

The love that never ends.

Mama, my body is my teacher. The body you said stunk when I played outside. My body that you reached to when you were in pain. Ran your black rain into my skin and cells. It felt like love to me.

My body awakens me in my sleep.

It needs food, soul food, earth food, stomach food

She whispers go here, go there, go everywhere inside of me

Tiny fingers and angel wings flap and massage me

Say, listen, listen, listen

Healing chants and visions, herbs, nature’s harmony.

My body is my legacy Mama.

Every woman, grandma, daughter and child who has walked the earth

She is the diva woman, dancing, swirling to the orgasmic plunge of the universe

She seeps into every pore, cell, vein of blood

Circular in the moment explodes into the womb, down the uterus, out the vagina

To find my voice…scream out…MAMA!

The moment, the seconds, the generations, the eons of life

Awakened in the Garden, the Tree of Life, Eve bit and it all began

You thought you were sin, wrong, unworthy.

But no more. My body is my teacher. She digs to live in my soul

Belonging to the body is the legacy; the women

Wild and dangerous, soft and compassionate, full of life,

Deeply surrender to the raging energy of love.

Not of violence, Mama

The eyes of the Shekinah: Astarte, Isis, Esther, Sarah, Leah, Rebecca, Mary

Creating the universe where fear and separation is at rest

I see you mama

Arms silent on your heart.

Breath no more

Soul floats away.

Can you hear me mama?

I am left here to continue on…

The past is the past and it still echoes in my present, dances in my dreams

And holds a candle to my present where I see a light in the distance to an

Unknown future.

But your face, mama, is there. Through the veils of time.

And a longing that remains…always.

Marta Luzim’s Writing the Wave: Mama’s Breasts

I was six when I saw mama naked form the waist up. Mama’s breasts were large, round and fleshy. I stared at them with wonder. I asked, “Mommy, when will I have those?” I pointed to her breasts.

“Later. Much later.” She said.

They became a mantra of sight. The image of her breasts. Mama, your breasts lift out of your cocktail dress. Hang over your skimpy nightgown, stick out in your turtleneck like fat bullets. You wanted the world to see your breasts. But your breast teachings were, “Never let anyone touch your body. Men are like dogs, they go from fire hydrant to fire hydrant.”

I hungered for the nurturance of your breasts, but they were made of mud and steel. You taught me to squelch my orgasms, to hate the smell of my body. So I fucked every bad boy to bond with the hatred you leaked all over onto me.

Mama. Considerable superficial charm and average intelligence

Absence of delusions or other signs of irrational thinking

Unreliable, disregards obligations, no sense of responsibility

Untruthful and insincere

Lack of remorse, no sense of shame

Poor judgment, does not learn from mistakes

Self-centeredness, incapacity for real love and attachment

No true insight, inability to see oneself as others do

Ingratitude, egocentric

Vulgarity, rudeness, quick mood shifts

Impersonal sex life

Failure to have a life plan

Personality disorder – traits are inflexible and maladaptive and cause either

Significant impairment in social and occupational functioning and subjective distress



Sexual intensity

Sexual release

Sexual intensity and insanity

Intensity of the insanity feels like the intensity

Of the sexuality.

How is this?

I seek…creatively?

How is this?

I don’t understand

Brain scrambling

Attachment disorder

Body feverish

Soul sadness

Life with mama

Appetites of a Borderline

Borderline Personality is characterized by a pervasive pattern of unstable relationships, self-image, emotions and impulse control. Borderlines are emotional hemophiliacs.

The conditions can manifest themselves through, among other things, “angry outbursts” and/or “chronic feelings of emptiness.”

The terror
The voice
The purpose
The permission
The process

Raw, no skin, emotional hemophiliac
Signs of trickery
Blame others
Take offense
And tense
Responses shallow
Instability in relationships
Mood and self image
Attitudes, feelings
Change inexplicably
Over short periods of time
Unpredictable, irritable
Moods shift abruptly
No sense of self
Remain uncertain with life
Intense one-on-one relationships
Which usually are stormy, transient
And brief,
Evaluates others with no real concern
For them
Chronic depression and emptiness
Manipulative attempts at suicide
Psychotic under emotional stress
Hysterical personality
Overly dramatic-always drawing
Attention to themselves
Emotionally expressive to unusual degree
Angry overreactions to minor annoyances
Quick to boredom with normal routines
Interpersonal problems are frequent
Constant demands on others
Vain, shallow, ungenuine and inconsiderate
Moral insanity