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Lauren Connolly Apr 2021
She walks home from the ball, glass slipper in hand      
Underneath the stars,
the fairy-tale kind.       
Hair falls sloppily over her neck,                                      
and her dress turns back into tatters.                                  

She must pass through the forbidden forest,                    
the one that all women must travel.

As she enters, the handsome princes smile at her
before turning to dogs and howling.
They follow her from a distance,
but she still feels their hot breath on her
neck.

The trees come to life and taunt her,
laughing at her messy appearance
Until all their leaves fall to the earth,
and ***** at her curves and legs.

The bubbling stream forces her to view her reflection
in its cold and distorted mirror.
Then shows her beautiful queens
much prettier than her
Forcing her to make a comparison.

The princess makes it out,
though she hardly feels like one at all.
Scraping for some semblance of identity
She holds herself
in the harsh wind.
I've got the power to create
The hips and thighs
Perfectly voluptuous

I've got the power to birth
I've got the power to make life
I've got the power to make breath

Don't tell me that I am powerless
Don't tell me to do what you said
You answer to me

I am The Goddess
you answer to me
Ekta Apr 2021
We marry
On the basis of queries
Concerning and confirming
The age difference and dissimilarity
Between the prince charming and his to be fairy
No introductions primarily
The birthmarks entitled as scary
No emotional reciprocity
Only inquiries about the popped cherries
And advices, unchary
By the gooseberries
Hardly any knowledge of monetary
Big mouths begging for a huge dowry
Somehow her decorum works as a parry
This is how we get married.
"why can't I be a man that likes pink,

why can't I be a woman that likes to surf the wind,

why can't I be a man that cries tears of joy,

why can't I be a woman that's not a mommy

why can't I be a man, without toughening up,

why can't I just be

be a human"

Wutherings Bronte
https://www.instagram.com/wutheringsbronte/
It's a Saturday night in fall
and I'm the only boy at the slumber party.

Our festivities begin outside,
the cool wind keeping our knees together
as we sit by the pool
and discuss how cool we'll be.

Inside, her parents eye me,
like the Terminator
scanning a potential threat.

We play charades
and twister
and paranoia,
and we laugh and judge and scream.

At 10 p.m. we're told to sleep,
and I sneak up stairs to meet the stirring girls
who giggle in anticipation.

They get to work.
They paint my nails,
They make me up,
and at some point of reflection I see
that
I can no longer see me for me.
We fall asleep.

When I awake,
White pillow caked with
black and fleshy pink,
my friends put me back how they found me -
The only boy at the slumber party.
The first time I wore nail polish, I hated it so much I picked it off! I was scared my fingers had disappeared.
james nordlund Mar 2021
Would ne'er play in a patriarchal,
'men only', anything, except for it's
theme's the 24 th International
Women's Day, on 3-8-21, sadly,
it may be my last one, here, in
your poetry contest, thanx kindly.

This year's main theme's women's
leadership, especially during this
covided year, only the latest, at
least, purposely not prevented
unnatural disaster, not counting
climate crisis' natural ones,

hoisted on humanity by the fossil
fuel headed global oligarchy,
through it's spearhead, the united
**** of assassin's republican
organized crime conspiracy, as it's
latest tool exterminating humanity

to it's extinction.  Like the yoke,
that's no joke, almost defacto-slavery,
put on all newborn neck by the corp.  
structure, it's convolution, and Man,
which can only end by abolishing
fossil fuel use, "there's a beacon

in the sky meant to catch your eye",
Happy Rhodes.  It's a hopeful sign
that Kamala Harris is the first Vice
President of US whose a woman,
and President Biden's doing a great
job.  Solemn lowering of # of, and

remembering the tens of millions of
premeditatedly exterminated, in their
global class war against the lower-
middle-class to poor, targeting men,
is our duty to those martyrs, and
women are at the forefront of this,

as they are in so many vital fields
of endeavor.  Whereas the % of
mass-murdered by pandemic who
are men is more, women are more
effected in totality, specifically they
make up the largest group of front-

line health + family caregivers, and
are at higher risk, suffering the horrid
death toll from that too.  If vlad-the-
impaler, the patriarchy's, la machine's
tres facile global conspiracy didn't
illegally install Utin's **** into The

BlackHouse, a President Hillary
would have stopped the death toll
here at ten thousand, instead of the
**** of Utin's million murdered.
Joe's righting of our Ship of State
the S.S. Tea Party tugged into rocks,

may not be enough to prevent Man's
extinction, it gives US a shot though.
Tragically, in the future kids, women
will be little more than a food source
if we don't mothball NASA, stop their
Mars Colony 'exit strategy', their

'final solution', extinction of humanity
on Earth, necessitates.  Trillions spent
on it come from destroying the Earth
through fossil fuel use, when if it were
left in the ground, instead, humanity
wouldn't be extinct on Earth, awaken.
International Women’s Day 2021 - UN & UN Women Present #IWD2021: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hyOOQ_6L-2I   .  Mahatma Gandhi said, "Be the change you wish to see in the world", "abhaya, fearlessness, is most important for an individual and a nation", "the root of all oppression lies in (supposed) science".  You know why they put a female child in charge of the global climate crisis movement, so it will only fail; don't you let it- or her legitimize supposed science, the premeditated mass-****** of 8 billion humanes.  Write on.  Have a pleasant day   :)   reality
sydney Mar 2021
Why is it that
I am held to a standard set in stone
That you are able to treat like a mold

Why is it that
I am punished for not acting “lady-like”
Yet you are excused because “boys will be boys”

Why is it that
When I was a girl, I wasn’t strong enough to lift a chair
Because you, were the “strong boy” my teacher required

Why is it that
I am trained in passivity
While you are praised for being actively inquisitive

Why is it that
As I speak out, I am obnoxiously bossy
But as you speak out, you are a heroic leader

Why is it that
When insulting me, I’m a *****
But when insulting you, you are just a son of that *****

Why is it that
I can’t speak my truth because that would be emasculating
But you are entitled to, because your truth actually has value

Why is it that
—for the same action—
I am spat out, left ruminating in a puddle of self-doubt
While you are uplifted and encouraged

And, why is it that
I've internalized all of these messages, absorbing the ramifications
While you are able to effectively maneuver them, benefiting off of my downfall

Why is it that, now
I reflexively utter “sorry,” coating my rhetoric to please you

Why is it that, now
I instantaneously tell you, “no, it's ok” when
it isn't. ok.

Why is it that, now
When an adult man catcalls me, a teenage girl
I am taught that is my obligation to indulge him, be kind
So I am not further harassed


And, tell me, why is it that
I am taught to compromise my needs
To fulfill yours
This poem is about the double standard and misogyny that is so rooted in our society resulting in, eventually, every person being a walking reflection of it.
Alicia Mar 2021
She ever so delicately shouted out loud.
What started as a whisper became a roar as confidence grew.
Birdie Mar 2021
When I see the news stories
And read the vile comments
I’m reminded of my own
And how for him it’s past tense
But for me and for them
It’s every day
We live with that pain and that shame and that
Way of surviving
Like no one ever ripped out your heart
Like your dignity wasn’t stripped from you
Disbelieved in court
Ridiculed on Facebook
And ******* about in bars
‘This tortures him too’
‘He’s always been fine with me’
That’s what we hear when we try to seek
Validation from those who know our abusers
scepticism and the audacity to accuse us
Of being dramatic, of lying, exaggeration
Well tell me where is the dramatisation
In the fact that in my story when he was done
He wrote ‘No’ on my wall in permanent marker
To reminded him that next time ‘No’ is the answer
Like he should need reminding when he heard it from me
But I am a woman, was a girl
So you see
What I do doesn’t matter
Which sadly is proved
When today we read of Sarah Everard in the news
mark john junor Mar 2021
the world is a changed place,
what we became familiar with is gone,
we must either change with the world
or be pushed aside by it...
I have chosen to embrace the coming world
and trying to learn the "new way"
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