Bloom where you're planted
All women are told
We are told to wait to be chosen, to be cut, to be picked the moment we blossom,
Only to be an ornimental object,
Some temporary color,
A disposable distraction.
To simply be beautifully brief.
I am more.
I am more than a windblown wish
Than petals to be plucked
Than a wilting wildflower.
I am rooted. I am grounded.
That only the uncut flowers
Get to keep on growing.
This one is for all my single ladies.
Bloom- not simply to be picked, but to love the life you live.
Though I was born through
the dust and ashes of fallen stars,
I walk behind my equals
And I am treated like property.
Only I know my true power.
I have the power
To bite my tongue
And play along,
To sit on a shelf
And keep to myself.
I am only wanted for my beauty.
Constantly changing to
Keep up with trends,
Starving myself to fit in the mold,
Denying myself what I want,
Sometimes cutting my wrists with the knife
Because I can’t become the perfect wife.
I can only be so powerful for so long.
I speak up.
I open my mouth,
Cut my hair,
Wear what I want,
Because I don’t care.
It doesn’t matter what they see;
I will be what I want to be.
‘Cause I remember being wanted,
feeling fearless and undaunted
by the task placed before me.
Now all I do is sit under trees,
thinking about how this once perfect world
has become so unfurled;
how this world is so tilted
and kindness has wilted-
so much so that a compliment
has become so complicated.
that everything is a come on,
and we must keep an eye on
the hems of our dresses
and our beautiful tresses
in order to keep the boys happy.
Women deserve more
Than becoming a total bore
To prevent being called a whore.
Women deserve to live
Without having to give
Their life away
To make the men stay.
Your mind is a treasure that I'd love to discover
An abyss of thoughts and logarithms only you can translate
Your mind makes love better than the body can
It's a dopamine high I can't resist
So as I sit here, I suck on your words as if they were a pair of lips
I sip on your wisdom for it is the finest wine.
When I wake up in the morning,
I have rocks in my eyes that'll put your rings to shame.
I'm not the daintiest of women
I square my shoulders up and try to brace myself for the fall whenever I wear four inch heels or higher
I like t-shirts and sweatshirts with sassy and cool logos
Comic strip socks and cufflinks catch my attention before any dress would
I'm not perfect.
My hair is not always combed and I've never heard of another woman who has intense OCD but is at the same time extremely unorganized.
I'm a walking contradiction, an enigma to say the least.
I can eat brownies but react to cake.
My breath doesn's smell like apple pie in the morning and my pajamas consist of boxers and shirts three times my size.
I have a slight lisp when I speak and a face that refuses to soften even when I'm happy.
No I'm not mad, I'm good..
Thats just how my face is.
I don't believe in promises made by people because i've witnessed more broken ones than those fulfilled.
I'd rather let my yes be my yes and my no, a solid no.
I have a soul so old I could've kept your greatgrandma company and yet a spirit so young you'd think I was five again.
I've yet to find the balance.
I don't catch people's eyes the first or second time but I heard third times the charm.
I'm simply Geraldine.
I snort when I laugh and fart in my sleep
And at times I burp out the alphabet.
I'm just me.
Some days I'm sweet and on other days insane.
I break my own heart at times before anyone else gets to it
But one thing's for sure is that I am fearfully and wonderfully made
And my flaws are a thing of beauty to the heart meant to love me...
She's fire set to a fracking plant
She's angelic and demonic
The perfect short temper with the perfect sort of patience
She's way too cautious
When times are cautious enough
She could take you down with words
but you're not worth the time or the effort.
She's way too worried about life
Even though no one is ever worried for her
She'll make her parents proud
and make millions before she kicks the bucket
Her love for animals is something never ending
Her heart will grow for nearly anything
There's more I could say but really what's the use.
All the poetry and metaphors could never explain the plain truth.
The best part of me is finding someone like you.
Women have their needs
They cannot be ignored, made fun of or abandoned
Listen to her, compromise for her, negotiate
Make her feel like she's the center of your vast universe
A man will know when he's in love with a woman
When her well-being is the highest concern in his mind
Real honeys are hard to find
So make sure you don't leave her behind
She's so important
Respect her, always
Count your blessings and remember to thank god on the ground she walks on
You may never meet somebody so special in your whole life
Fulfill her needs, so that beauty can be complete
I went to the womens' march here in my town,
full of women and men who won't be trodden down,
in support of my wife and of my daughter too,
I said, "I am proud to be marching with you".
Misogynist insults aren't made by real men,
but you, Donald, keep hurling them time and again.
When you grab them, insult them, rate them with a number,
you wake up a great mass of outrage from slumber.
Since you just think a woman is something to screw,
does it bother you knowing a woman birthed you?
Link to video of this poem: https://youtu.be/UDPmmjUV8Ac
Written January 22, 2017
She's that moment when you can't stop laughing
Partly because you can't and partly because you don't want to
That's what it feels like being around her; it's addicting.
First you want to know her name and next thing you know she's one of your best friends.
She has a face that she's insecure about
But wow does she shine when she's not thinking about little things like looks
When she comes to school "looking like trash", when she eats like nobody's looking, and when she spills out all her emotions to us
I can't help but notice how much more she glows without all the makeup and clothes to hide under
If we compared her to weather
She would be a blizzard in Egypt
She is something that sticks out forever as unique and amazing
Something that everyone will remember
Beautiful like the snowflakes and loved by all in her vicinity.
That's why I can't help but love this girl
She's something that I'll never see again
She loves everyone but needs no one
And that's something I'll never be.
So when she says that she's not beautiful
Because of the opinions of idiot boys who can't handle her, understand her, or are jealous of her
All I can do is look at all the proof sitting in front of me
I would be really grateful if someone would like to give me some advice about this writing!
She took the beatings, the
Blood smearing her skin
Took the lashings, and the slaps,
And hid her grin
The first time a man gripped her thighs,
Ripped them apart, and forced his way
Past her heart, numbing her to love,
Then threw her away
Numbed down deep to her soul,
She almost broke, almost cried,
Almost tied the knot tight, and
She gave birth to generations
Told them her stories and
Unto them she bequeathed
All her spirit and her worries
She reached past the pain,
Pushed past the slaked lust
Turned herself inside out
Despite the bruises and distrust
She built her walls high,
Enough to endure the storms life
Somehow thought she could survive
And relished a calm from the strife
A destiny couldn’t be resisted
Nevertheless, she persisted