Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Carlo C Gomez Dec 2019
He loved to teach...

He loved to teach her...

He loved to teach her abject lessons
      in elevators and on stairwells.


She hated to learn...

She hated to learn from him...

She hated to learn from him the inherent
       danger of buildings.
Nearly 1 in 4 women in the United States have experienced severe physical violence by an intimate partner during their lifetime.
Carlo C Gomez Dec 2019
"Every survivor of ****** assault deserves to be heard, believed, and supported."

Rainwater of
the Elysian fields,
you assuredly do
like to drown your winged heroines?
You write them as strange
bitter narratives,
spurious to the calling
or as a bit of
bloodletting go.

The history formed around either
her breaking at the seams
upon the witching hour,
and her own home village
pillaging her claims
in the bonfire;
Or the arcane notion
no woman shall give testimony
against a neighbor
on the occasion he's a man.

Yes, she cried 'no' at the temple gate
Yes, she repeated such entreaties
But she'd also been into the ale
and wore an overtly
fetching carousal dress
you incensed.
Let her dam break
Let her try and flood us over
you mocked.
She was only a wayfaring angel
one reckless bird of passage
What type of wounds
could she inflict?

How easily you lost sight
of her will & halo
becoming stronger than fright.
Down she poured in antipathy,
until covering your gaping mouth!
It wasn't rain that killed you,
for you were the rain,
it was her blood calling out
that finally did you in...
When it comes to ****** assault and/or harassment, a woman's voice needs to be listened to and believed.

Inspired by the poem "Dark Sky, One Star," by fellow HP writer Ashly Kocher.
Hayley Dec 2019
A/N: This poem probably makes no sense but after listening to a few Blythe Baird poems I felt inspired to write something like this.



The life of a woman can be challenging
The life of a woman can be an uphill  battle that sometimes we just do not want to fight
Women can be born in hospitals
They can also be born trapped in masculine jail cells
Some people say that sexism is dead
But then they remind us to always carry pepper spray in the same breath
And I begin to wonder if being a woman is a curse or a blessing
Surely things had to improve by now
We are not in the twenties after all
But dread settles in the pit of my stomach like stones at the bottom of a river
When I remember reading that we had to invent nail polish that changed color in drugged drinks
Lipstick shaped mace
Develop apps to walk us home
And underwear designed to prevent assault
I wish I could go back
Back to a time before womanhood hit me like a truck
Back to a time before *******
And periods
Before I knew about all the sharp corners of the world
I often think of if I want to change the world
I do
And I do not
Somedays I want to write acceptance into existence
Some days I just want to hide from the weight of responsibility
Crushing me like a ton of bricks
I shudder as I remember the nights a man twisted my will by calling me, baby
Talking me out of conversations I knew I should have brought up sooner
I want people to see women as people
Most importantly men
We are not your  playthings
We are not objects you can twist and mold to your desires
We are not a piece of candy for your eyes
I want everyone to realize these things
But I will try and coat my words in sugar
I will try to make these words easy to hear
Easy to read
I will try and soften the impact of reality
I will try and make these words
This poem easy to swallow
Like a microscopic pill
I will try and make reading this easier than it is for us women to live
Carlo C Gomez Nov 2019
Dads buy them
Boys hide them
Fascinated by what they see
It's a passed down ideology
A coming of age curiosity?
Or the beginnings
Of misogyny?
Carlo C Gomez Dec 2019
At a party, a gym,
anywhere the lighting is dim.
Along the shore, down in the subway,
during an overnight stay.
On Christmas morning,
by the fire where she's warming...

She is the hunted.

Amidst war, conflict, and revolution,
in the confessional during absolution.
For retribution or initiation,
after a movie premiere's celebration.
In the pool, the jacuzzi,
when drugged and woozy...

She is the hunted.

When did the female species
become a personal plaything?
An implicit right of lords, masters, and kings?
A gratification tool to sadists & seducers,
ego-fed athletes, even film producers?

She is the hunted...
in this cathedral of misogyny,
an unholy ground where hands
can never come clean.

At what age, Malusha, did your little boy
become a ******?
Malusha Malkovna was the mother of Vladimir the Great, who in c. 978 infamously ***** Ragnhild, the prince of Polotsk's daughter.
elysian Dec 2019
all i ask is for you to treat me as your equal,
so i don't have to fight with all my might.
all i ask is to be loved the same way you love my brothers
is it not only right?
all i ask is to be recognised when i achieve,
without dismissive comment.
all i ask is for you to allow me to express myself freely,
to be free of judgement, even if just for a moment.
all i ask i to not be the one to blame,
when i had to face the torment of assault.
all i ask is for this to come to an end,
please just bring it to a halt.
I’m sure it’ll be a great party
even though I’m dressed like a Barbie
it’s all in good fun
I won’t drink more than one
and they probably won’t even card me.

I’m sure the flyers aren’t serious
the cover girls all look delirious
the guys all wear suits
while the women “let loose”
but I can’t justify the criteria.

I’m sure it was one great big joke
the way your fraternal friends spoke
it wasn’t the way
you called me your bae
it’s just that I’ve never been groped.

I’m sure it wasn’t your fault
and it wasn’t really assault
so let’s just forget
the ***** and the sweat
and take it with a grain of salt.

I’m sure there’s nothing to fear
and in nine months to a year
we’ll give in to fate
and when you graduate
we can shack up and share a career.

Now I’m sure I was being naive
turns out your name wasn’t Steve
and all the support
you swore not to retort
leaves me nothing to do but to grieve.
limerick written from the perspective of a victimized young woman

for peace in solidarity

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ojleMU9rZ4k
triztessa Oct 2019
We aren't,
after all,
objects
you fit into
the shape of your
wants and needs or
whatever kind of life
you lead us
and you turn me
like a marvel
like a caveman
discovering
this light
and then you switch

I am not the type
I am not the end of the game
I am not the comfort

You seek.
whisper Aug 2019
I am a smooth surface.
I am a number of hiding places.
I am meat, I am bone and
I am anything but my own.
Next page