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Penny Yilmaz Feb 2017
Mind your manners
Mind how you speak
Mind the hemline of your dress,
         and the curves of your *******
Mind your business
Mind your make-up
Mind your desires
Mind your men,
                 because don’t you know that
                 ‘behind every great man lies a woman’?
Mind your mind,
          for your thoughts even,
                  are too risky for our youth
Mind your Truth
Mind your Self
Mind your entire beautiful Being,
           but please
                   for the love of God,
don’t mind this when we’re in bed

--PY
ConnectHook Jan 2017
♀  ♀  ♀

Hey you! In the ******-hat,
frumpy feminist dressed in pink;
we men (what do you make of that)
would love to know just what you think.

We've heard of "***-hats", anyway.
But we can see the other side:
it's orificial bombs away
as bridegrooms now behold the bride.

Gynecology on parade:
how weird. You think it makes your point?
It's more a vaginal charade,
and promises to disappoint.

You say your cap evokes your *****;
feline foolishness, I say.
It's cat in bag when fems get fussy
showing patriarchs the way.

Show us yours and we'll show our own.
Well actually, it's kind of cold
to whip it out right here downtown...
We'll grant you this: you chicks are bold.

Your choice-aborted progeny,
disposed of in the clinic's trash,
might blame you for misogyny—
though spared the curse of diaper rash.

We'll keep abreast of all you do,
chanting, marching, fists in air...
yet still, you seem a silly crew
aflush with zeal (and ***** hair).

But must it always come to this:
biology devoid of God ?
Exteriorizing, hit and miss,
the secrets of your aging ***...
({i})  (|)  ({i})

inspired by some of the bizarre costumes and slogans on display at the January 21 Women's March on Washington. March on, ladies !
ConnectHook Jan 2017
Those radical change-agents Femen
set the men-folk to hawin' and hemin'.
When the girls bared their best
all the boys were impressed.
(Keep abreast of the movement, you womyn).
inspired by the radical Euro-feminist group
Sharon Thomas Oct 2016
Sister who conceived was thrown outta the nunnery
This disgrace fed the top feeds hence.
Shunning all her exemplary works at once.
But where did the well-read ladies lose reference?
THE BOOK had revealed it all right there,
But when history repeated itself...
with just a track from heaven missing
And so this mother raised a fatherless child.
But in history when the father was a Carpenter.
Here in time the father was a Father
Who continued to raise "patriarchy" on the altar!
mushroom faerie Oct 2016
i walk over the lawn
pushing my hips up and down
to appear more confident and womanlike
in this patriarchal dungeon
where lads become bros who are
taught to approve what I am saying in order for me to
continue and speak.

i have a family who holds a canopy
of love upon me
how dare you only acknowledge my flesh
and these pathetic letters when
there is magic in my hands, wisdom lying in my mouth, and an unblemished soul that has only been tainted by boys like you.

pray you stay away from me so that
your revolting desires are not revealed unto
yourself.

i am saddened by you
for how will I ever find a man when you are the representative
who has taught me that it is necessary to shield myself.

i am saddened that i will never gain your approval
i am saddened that i now live in a world
where women like me think they
need it
Erin Suurkoivu Oct 2016
i.

Pink doesn’t play into it, that delicate
petal of perfume & flower stuff.
She abhors it.

Red suits her better.
Red for Fridays & red for Aries.
Red for the blood her dagger could draw.

Her seal of wax is no
rosebud adhered to
fine paper.

Warrior, she escaped its letter.
With Roman candles & Roman sandals,
sword, wand & chariot,

defender of her Eden.
Seashells are her votive gifts, the
stars of her Atlantic.

It is within her reign of Camelot.
At the edge of the Earth,
her kingdom dreams.




ii.

Blue maid
a curious ***** in her armour.
But she wouldn’t flinch

if an army of soldiers came crashing in.
They are hunting the witch.
A woman can never have such power.

It is reserved for the patriarchy
to wield at will.
Up it goes.

They can ***** steeples with it.
They are stoking the fires & sharpening
the axe with it.

But threats of torture
don’t make her beg, plead or recant.
She is guilty of nothing.

Even broken on the Catherine Wheel,
Athena still keeps her
bow & quiver intact.
A poem inspired by my friend, Hayley J. Available in my poetry collection, "Witch", available on Amazon and Lulu.
Leigh Marie Sep 2016
It was the end of my relationship with him
and I was crying while he was between my legs cause I knew this was just the beginning
He was leaving and I felt stuck
Nothing makes sense when the one thing that made sense doesn't wanna be here anymore
I cried and shook - losing control
but when he looked up at me he thought I was happy, shaking with joy or overwhelmed with pleasure
He found himself proud as he looked through the lens of his own ego

That night I learned what it felt like to be loved through a piece of glass
As if I am not loved for who I am but who I'm perceived to be- who they want me to be,
my image is distorted and trapped
But all I want is forever

Forever to start today and you to never leave but maybe I've put on glasses of my own
I see you as a broken thing that just needs to be hugged so tight your pieces will fit together again
I think you've lost some pieces along the way
Maybe that is why you're still soul searching
When we touch I cut myself on your rough shards

I put on my glasses and see you as my other half cause my lens are half made of mirrors
I'm looking at myself
I see loving you as a way to fix myself
I just want to love myself
I mean, I just want to love you
I mean, I just want you to love me
But all I do is hurt myself
All you do is hurt me

I'm convinced that you wouldn't see a reflection of your ego in my tears
But you broke my heart when you left without a trace
cause you needed more girls' arms to hold your edges and love you
isn't that the same **** thing?

My friends don't forgive you and
Don't wanna hear me talk about you any more
But I tried to fix you and I shattered
I tried to love you and I shattered
The only way I can feel whole again is to talk bout the pieces of me you pocketed
our song plays to the beat of my heart everyday
No wonder I sound like a broken record

It was the beginning of us and
I shook with excitement - electrified
tears came later when you shocked me
my heart stopped

Maybe it's not our end
and I hope that
you see me as I see you now
with clear eyes
ready to forget the past
Beau Scorgie Apr 2016
"Cheers!" and we drink to
this totalitarian,
patriarchal ****.
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