Let the world be the rubber
And you be the glue
I'll bounce off others and stick to you
Catch you when you fall
Pick you up again in the winter
Even tend to your nasty splinters
I'll be the one that gathers your rosebuds in spring
And be your cooling shade in the summer.
And when
Sticks and stones
(Against you)
Will crack and splinter,
And words for your beauty will never leave me
Remember ravishing is what you are,
As I am ravenous
(How do I know)
Because it takes poetry
To know poetry

And that is just what you are.
Poetry in motion

Chained with my gaze
his desire tries to break loose

but my eyes force him, I take
half of my clothes off and wash him
      
with ice water until he glows
and wants more, then I pull out hairs
      
in sensitive places, treat him
until it hurts, I bite
      
where his skin is thin, lick
the blood, rub salt in the wounds
      
knock him off and arouse him
with my claws in his imagination
      
I nestle in his desire
for the end, keeping him *****
      
until he moans and stammers
sweet words, that reconcile me a while

have you ever noticed that you never
see famous female poets who look
like marilyn or nicki or ari?

even the girls today whose words
are celebrated can't sell their rhymes
without selling their bodies.

i guess the new femme fatale
might be less feminist than i thought:
when your looks can ****, they ******
your ideas.

when your lips pucker like roses
and your body is angelic--
we let you take our libidos to heaven
but not our minds.

Must my jaw be firm,
to throw the first punch of a fight?

Must my hands be delicate,
to hold you tightly in my arms?

Must my voice be deep,
to show you how much I care?

Must my eyes be saddened,
to prove how much I want you there?

Two
Halves
Never one whole

Left
Right
But why not both?

Dividing me
Into "opposing" categories
But you can't have one without the other

Neither male
Or female
Simply both

the forest she calls, a feminine tweet echoes in a masculine wood, I trip and stumble like a newly born fawn, he pulls me up, but I'm not ready, 'it's ok we'll walk together'.
who went before us, are they here watching in the sultry mist, his manly arms make me forget my promises to 'feministia', I fall again happily caught by his stone age ignorance
the ground under my heel is a spongy blanket of moss so soft I feel myself float
drift far away from society's rules of my role as a strong independent woman, I smile and giggle like a sickening barbie doll
if society crumbles we could come here to live, he could be my provider and I could be his jane in the jungle...
but alas, it's 2018 and I am a 'feminsitia'

I have these moments of epiphany.
It is while I watch myself
Wake up and not kiss the soil.

The days I don’t remember
What color the sky was
Or how I treated my mother.

Each time I fly and I realize
There is nothing more breathtaking
Then seeing her from above.

Powerful, Resilient, Art, Oppressed, Female.
That is why I fall in love with the Earth,
She reminds me of all the women I’ve ever loved
That I do not deserve.

they don't know that
she is classical;

she is the kind people admire
but seems to be impossible
to be figured out by anyone,

but when they do,
oh how they can hear the
most beautiful lullaby
coming out of her.

— s.r.

She is the sun; her blinding rays of light shine through her soul during the darkest hours of your day

She is the song you know by heart;  every word spoken, every beat played, and every breath taken is known within the depths of your bones

She is the uncaged bird; free and flying through life without a single care in the world, ready to sing her sweet melody at any waking moment, and to bless your eyes with her surreal beauty

She is peace; her soft voice and soothing words can talk you down from jumping off the highest of cliffs and diving into the deepest of oceans without the intent of coming back up

She is love; the feeling that makes the tight chains around your heart break to pieces, leaving it open and whole

She is [insert name here]