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bianca Jun 14
she held the cigarette between her index finger as if she was pointing towards her next foreseeable victim, but shortly it was blown out, the remaining ashes lit at the end of her tip. her cardamom eyes simmered, square but foundational, a million could love her.
another excerpt from a story I am writing. what do you think?
They are the fierce writers
They ride on horses and write past you
They have rode on this earth before
And wrote with reed on various seeds
Armed with fine parchment and accoutrements
Meadows and the cemeteries
Their favourite haunts
Hannah Nov 2020
Don't let anybody cut your tongue,
when failing to comprehend what you mean.
We are all just hidden tigers among
the distant places that have yet to be seen.

Colors of fire draped across our hearts,
when the ones who hate start to bark.
Looks of terror reflected off our eyes
of the ones who dare to stand and criticize.

A glance is all it takes,
for their knees begin to shake.
They see the potential we have within,
afraid to find out who will win.

The ones who dared to stand and criticize,
now don't dare to look us in the eyes.
Finally being able to overcome,
the fear we had when the fight had begun.

The eyes are the secret key,
that reveals our now discovered mystery.
Unleashing the inner tiger
brings forth that hidden fire.
Dante Rocío Nov 2020
I reflect with a projection,
when hearing
melodies of rhythm or
lower basses like guttural
voice chords, especially
in the dark or being on a waiting room
of a car ride,
whenever I want it or not
an endless dance or some
image that twirls into
even though
there’s no dress to whizz,
feet strong like Carmen Amaya’s
had no mercy for Iberian taverns’
dance floors of flamenco
watching that spectacle
from discarded collage views
of that accounting
and how no
voice is needed to direct
the melody a vector,
only let it be sung-thrung
through the heat rising
and orchestra listened to
completely, sharp motions in
the eyes of the crowd
or those who had ever considered
pondering on me like a philosophy...

Maybe such styles and asphyxiations
of rapid ragged jerkings of too sharp
notes in the air cutting
the atmosphere like a blunt knife
have got to me a long time ago,
stay ever more as visions to moves
audacious, and have been
chosen beforehand my vessel
without its decision to be turned
into something greater
in the collaboration with my own other dishes
to fit Passion.

Then - then - I always imagine - then
in all that how
any certain entity
would be looking at that,
taking it in from the outside
and what that painting of me
will be made as
in their sculpted no flesh

Thank you
Ladies, Gentlemen, Whoever Further
for attending
Prima, Prova, espanso aggiunto dalla danza e verso il fiato soffocato ma del fiato.
The daze of that accounting and making, above, within, towards, has been written and reminisced so real from every reoccurring time of itself my body authentically lost breath and freedom of fatigue's influence by then from that vision. Beforehand, afterhand.
Have you ever come to dance there where your body doesn't exist yet only what's beyond it eventually here on Earth or somewhere else? The feet knives rather than flesh and deprived of idea of physical ******* or not
Kara Shirlene Aug 2020
Woman or Dragon?
Some could claim one in the same.
When a fire-breathing Being is met with the winds of a Goddess,
And the flames of passion are fueled with raging love and fury.
When the beat of the heart and the blood of the womb
Ignites the rhythms of Dance and Flight and Life.
When the soar in the Soul is as mighty as the roar of madness,
And then the wings take control.
When the skin and the scales become tough as nails
Because walking through fire is all that's ever been known.
When resilience is more than folklore,
And grace rests upon weary shoulders.
When the embers remain after the flame consumes
And gentleness remains there too?
Only then can one begin to understand the meaning of both-
Dragon and Woman.
©KSS 6/2019
This poem was originally written as an ode to the Yin Yoga pose Dragon. It's purpose was to highlight the fierceness of women, and how dragon pose feels in the body. I also wanted to capture the gentleness that remains when we surrender into the embers and flames of life, fury, and love. That we, as women, are fierce, gentle, brave, and much like a dragon- breathe flames.
Kara Shirlene Aug 2020
Do not treat me like an object.
I'm not a pleasure tool for your lust.
I am a human,
I do not care about your ******.

So listen as these words hiss off my lips:
I demand respect, and will accept nothing less.

Do not whistle at my back.
I am not here for your entertainment.
I will not turn to give your ego attention.
My patience has been spent.

And lest you er forget-
Without my kind you would not exist.
Alone you were not sufficient,
So God took out a rib.
©KSS 7/2018
Kara Shirlene Aug 2020
Women were made to roar.
So don't tell us to calm down.
We'll shake and howl,
And then stand proud
As we fix each other's crowns.

Women were made to speak.
So don't silence us when we scream.
We'll stomp and rave,
And then release
The lioness within- Strong & Brave.

Women were made to lead.
So don't pretend we won't.
We'll rise and march,
And carry on fiercely,
Every sister rooted in her strength.

Women were made to bleed.
So don't act like we are weak.
We'll shed our skin,
And be renewed,
Ready to roar again.
©KSS 4/2020
SiouxF Aug 2020
Who is the woman in the mirror?
This morning it was a fierce woman
Standing in her power
Ready and willing to take on the world
On her terms.
Not just a survivor
But a thriver
A Phoenix Risen from the ashes
In all her glory
Staring right back at you.
The past hurt, pain and abuse
That had kept her playing small,
Lying all around her
In tatters,
Like dust upon the floor,
No longer attached to her,
No power in them.
Only the fierceness
Of the woman
In the mirror

This was originally called Fierce
SA Szumloz Jul 2020

Loud = Outspoken
Weak = Enduring
Embarrassing = Unique
Stupid = Young
Vain = Proud
Aloof = Fierce
Clueless = Dreamer

Watch your language.

I am probably the most honest person in my family. However, whenever I speak my mind about something, most of the time, I get judged for it. My family calls me "rude" and "disrespectful". I don't think I am. At least I am not bottling my feelings inside like most people my age do.
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