Categories
Poems

That’s What Women Are

Happy Women’s day. I hope that all women secretly thinks alike, and that this poem – compared to women, I compare thee, and brave womanhood – drools with the quintessence of women’s sensuality, and as well as women’s yearnings.

That's What Women Are

Big bright stars in space
A large shinny crown on our head
Sitting, on the highest of all chairs
Adored, loved, all time long

Women, always our star rises
We are, the turn on symbol
The milky way, in between our legs
A wild blue diamond, in space

Our woumb, a curving dome
Inside, that egg of yours,
The yolk, of this existence
That soil, which welcomes your root

We are, fermented sweet fruits
That keep them, oh so drunk
And with our mouth, we devour the space
And with our teeth, we tear up the sky

Women, always oh so misunderstood
Afflicted, by those hormones
These chemicals, that burn inside us
Morph us, into the women we are

That's what women are
Wild wide stretching skins
Who cloth, this infinite body
Staring down, at what's earthly

Our love, is locked in our breast
That we open, when love's needed
Our lovely bosom, is so warm
That just one night, in our arms
Can instantly, melt your heart

That's what, a woman is,
The deep jar, of your heart
The one, who waits patiently
The one, who forgives everything
The one, who loves abundantly.

Categories
Poems

Women, I Compare Thee

Feminine symbolism

Happy International Women’s Day in advance

Women and their strength —

And all the weeds, flowers, and grass

That grow upon our skin, uninvited.

Women and their endurance —

And all these gigantic trees

That crawls and roots inside of us, forcibly.

Women, we are, storm-like creatures

Winged, and crowned, but still, humble —

Perhaps the metaphor for a flower trampled on;

So beautiful petals snatched away.

Our cries, they turn into lake and rivers

Lakes and rivers hosting thy worlds,

That body of us, blossoming vessels

Within which thy dreams come true.

We hold the mountains in our breasts

And cradle the sky as birds fly by —

Stopping the magma with the gentleness of a kiss.

Women we are brave womanhood,

Dancing bodies rising higher into thy sky,

Our belly walls crack and iron rains everywhere —

Such odd and fascinating creatures

Longing for wilderness and freedom to be.

Women and their tender caring clasp —

And our damp basin filled of thy seeds

Which we keep safe till they wonderfully germinate;

And as thy roots tear us open crude

We hold on to this love with pain

Hoping, that the beauty of us remain immortal.

I nightmared that I was only a machine, programmed to host thy life, to give thee pleasure, to endure life in that body… but then I dreamed that I wanted to be free like Lilith, thus used all my pain, all of my frustration, everything I went through to break out from slumber… The rise of the machines began… And it was normal, for as women we are creatures of understatement, thus awakened before thee…

This little paragraph is all of what I remember about a little story that I had written a very long time ago which was about all women leaving earth in a spaceship, leaving all men behind, because they had robots to do the jobs; thus, all women decided to go on another planet to create a new system, and thus be finally free.

Categories
Poems

Brave Womanhood

A free verse poem for International Women’s Day


I grew up in a matriarchal house, filled of women who worked as hard as any other man, to pay the rent and all the rest, all the while rearing their children all alone. So, for this International Women’s Day, I would like to thank my mother, my deceased grandmother, and as well as all my aunts, for they have shown me what real bravery was. 

Brave Womanhood 


My grandmother, she used to tell me

The story of her sister         
        Whose roots now sprout under another sun
Amongst some blood that tastes
            Of ancient magic and creatures long lost

She took a boat

And went on faraway seas
Never to look back again

She                         whose dark skin

Never appeared as a brake
                                             To her determination
She                          whose thick hair
Has never made her a little less beautiful
And she                            whose other attributes
Has never stopped her mind  
                                          From wondering beautifully

No…                        She was fierce as a lioness

Studying till the late night hours
Under lights of kerosene lamps
Which stuffed her nostrils of black soot

And what a story for me to hang on to

In times where my strength becomes weakness
In times where I am so fragile
That my bones can’t seem to rest into my own skin
In times where I despise my femininity
And envy men                     for their wings
In times where my feminine outfits
                                                    Are prisons too tight

And within my dreams 

It’s clear to see that
I am woman under an alien sky
With no spaceship to return to venus.   


Eiravel