I would liken you
To a night without stars
Were it not for your eyes.
I would liken you
To a sleep without dreams
Were it not for your songs.

sri ram koyalkar Oct 2014

people wish for a boy
not for a girl
there blessings are for males
not a females....
but .
when they need courage
the pray to lord durga
when they desire knowledge
they pray to god saraswati
so, why they hesitate to have a godness in their family ???
~ ~ ~ ~

Picked up and dragged through the air of violent twilight.
Crash landing into each world of pain.

Grow up; learn up she told herself.

Red lipstick, tight dress; bad girl good. Unrested she was, she was unrest.
Unrest in her mind, unrest in distress.
That girl was nocturnal,
her life was night.
Although star & moons glared,
reluctantly lit,
her blue skies were none but bottomless pits.
Duck duck GOOSE, once a child without care;
I choose YOU, life spitefully said.

GROW UP; LEARN UP, she scolded herself.

Keep your head up, keep it down.
Too much air, too much water,
too much CONSCIOUSNESS.
Low then high then low again.
One minute was 60,
but she blinked and it was over.
So much time was so little.  
Disregarded, she became the Object of obsession.
Danced too fast, danced too slow;
never by the beat of her heart.
Chaos!
Calamity!
Joy!
Insanity!

GROW UP, LEARN UP; she forgot herself.

The madness before the storm,
the storm of never-end.
She had to grow up, she had to learn up.

Untimely Growth
Renu Bindlish Oct 2014

A girl is the doll
Princess of the house
Loves so much
So pretty and cute
Everywhere  
Like little fairy
Solves all the problems
Never demands
So affectionate
Till the death
Then why?
We are so cruel
Kill her in the womb
Think about it
And take an oath
To give her a right
To survive.

sri ram koyalkar Oct 2014

people wish for a boy
not for a girl
there blessings are for males
not a females....
but .
when they need courage
the pray to lord durga
when they desire knowledge
they pray to god saraswati
so, why they hesitate to have a godness in their family ???
~ ~ ~ ~

Shazia ullah Jan 2016

My baby girl

My baby girl,
She doesnt speak to me
But i know what she says
I know what her gibberish means
I know why her tantrums are
My baby girl
Beautiful as anything ive ever seen
Maybe more
Innocent pure unique
My baby girl is special

Jasmine Luna Apr 2014

who knew that in about
4 years time,
or maybe
10,000 years lost in
10,000 multi hued tears,
id be on the same trip-
dancing to the same
shimmering inner grove as before-
braiding fresh cut
flowers-
delicate genital-hands, unfolding in prayer
into my subconscious mind
or perhaps into my hair-
saving colored prism fragments
of knowledge or nonsense-
digesting intoxicating
incense smoke into the
deep throated green streaked
laughter chasms
that are my lungs-
spinning vinyl, spun mind
unwinding, undulating
through string music-
contemplating the sunset's sweet
immaculate form, reoccuring
and balancing itself right outside my window-
dressing in shells, bones,
and beads; kaleidoscope fabric dripping from
the breasts like mother Kali in a Fellini
flick-
peeping out at heads slinking down
the stoned pavement streets-
my hairy angelic form grooving
intensely, spastic-
body flung, strung out in
hot patterns of
mirrored arms and legs-
brain brew bubbling; wicked, fantastic-
limbs waving and grabbing at
tangible tasty morsels,
smelling strongly of indigo
and patchouli-
the East smiling on me and
my intrepid journey to the ocean city-
head thrown back in
tranquil madness-
pipe smoke curling like
ancient hound howls from the corners
of my lips-
smiles spread like insanity, a wicked disease
lost in the forgotten finger painted
confounds of creamy
opiate milk consciousness-
basking in lamplight
of the golden glistening
                                  Now.

Xan Abyss May 2015

She was only seventeen
In a town called Mexicali

Purple lipstick, hair dyed green
Wouldn't let her leave without me

And she liked things obscene
That I won't talk about here

But her weed you wouldn't believe,
So I had to keep her around...

My marijuana girl, my marijuana girl
Her eyes lit up
When I lit up
My marijuana girl
My marijuana girl, my marijuana girl
Smoky dreams
and tequila screams...


...My Marijuana Girl...

She was a wild thing indeed
Life carried by the wind

A little wink is all she needs
To drive a holy man to sin

My bloodshot eyes were hypnotized
My head started to spin

She can blow you up or calm your heart
Like nitroglycerine

My marijuana girl, my marijuana girl
Her eyes lit up
When I lit up
My marijuana girl
My marijuana girl, my marijuana girl
Smoky dreams
and tequila screams...


...My Marijuana Girl...

Mi chica marijuana
My marijuana girl

Lyrics.
Ajay Apr 2012

You make me happy.
We are from different planets
We are still so close.

Famous Isaacs Jun 2014

I’m a child and not a bride, but
Last month you made me marry you.
You know it wasn’t love that made me say yes
But the fear of what shape my death could take
If I were to turn you down. Of course
I had no voice. I could only muse to myself
In the dark closet and imagine myself
A mother at thirteen: would it be awesome?
Would it be dreadful? Would it…? I died of anxiety.

Last month you made me marry you.
I had no time to discover me for myself:
Who I was, what I was, what I wanted to be;
I had no time to think before I had to say yes.
But it pains my bones to the marrow.
I am an unripe fruit for the eating.
I am a piece for the show-glass.

Last month you made me marry you.
I spent nights upon nights weeping over how you’ve
Broken me; how you’ve set my life ablaze
Like a forest in a wildfire;
And now the once-upon-a-time sweet sounding music
Of my soul is burnt into silence.
I have forgotten the dialect of my soul.
I hush. I hush. I hush. I hush. I hush.
You have beaten silence into me,
And now I have to prepare to moan and wail
Beneath your weight, while I watch you helplessly
As you bite into my innocence,
As you suckle the un-ripeness out of me,
As you dig into my childhood and pleasure yourself
In the childhood screams you hear from me.
But it isn’t the fun that makes me scream.
It is the bitter pain of knowing, of remembering
That my life ended at thirteen:

Broken like a fallen calabash
In the hands of a fifty-five year old man.

2013, in Nigeria, a 55-year old Senator married a 13-year old girl. The #ChildNotBride campaign against the senator's decision was born.
ZinaLisha Sep 2014

If I have a kid,

I'd prefer a boy.

Periods and childbirth

is not a joy.

Abi Mar 2015

Silence is my loudest cry,
Although my eyes seem to be dry,
What I am trying to imply,
Is that no one see’s the burning red eye.

Hidden beneath a shining smile,
Leaving the room in amazing style,
Is a girl in single file,
Walking alone the next one hundred miles.

When the girl looks up to the stars.
All she sees is a million prison bars,
Trapped and enclosed and no one knows,
The girl of course never shows.

Behind a smile is a broken girl,
Trying to fight this horrid world,
Her emotions soon begin to swirl,
Breaking another broken girl.

themotionless May 2014

When I look into your eyes
There's always that little spec of light
The twinkle that dances on the edge of your pupil
And in that twinkle I can see
That you really do love me

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