Feminism Poems
Soy Mujer
by Kathleen Diaz
Soy Mujer
Soy Mujer con brazos fuertes
Con caderas que pueden crear vida
Con nariz de mi papá
Con labios de mi mami
Con cachetes que enseñan salud
Con arrugas de Felicidad y Vida ... Mi Vida
Con las palabras de ellos...
......
1 - persephone
by kat kat
coming of age they say
is a transformation
from a bud to a blossom
but it can also be taken
snatched
swallowed by a hole in the ground
and i fell into its depths
to join the land of the dead
......
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Continue readingShe grew up sweet and virtuous
by Martina Athokpam
She grew up sweet and virtuous,
Fancied and adored by everyone;
but she never knew what lies ahead.
Those fairy tales and fantasies
Vanished in front of her.
Reality opens its miserable door,
the road ends ,but the journey was yet to begin
Neither can she walk ahead nor walk behind
......
1 - danae
by kat kat
the cellar
would keep me away
from man’s ugly gaze
thought my father
but no lock or latch
no bolt or vault
could keep away light
and into my prison a golden rain poured
through a slit in the ceiling
......
Soy Mujer
by Kathleen Diaz
Soy Mujer
Soy Mujer con brazos fuertes
Con caderas que pueden crear vida
Con nariz de mi papá
Con labios de mi mami
Con cachetes que enseñan salud
Con arrugas de Felicidad y Vida ... Mi Vida
Con las palabras de ellos...
......
Woman/Girl/Yours
by Aspen McIlrath
You don’t want a woman but a lanky-limbed foal,
New, and still slick with her mother’s warmth,
A body trimmed with lace that smells of apple juice and spit,
Sensual, and fertile, and unmarked by blood.
You don’t want a woman but pigtails and ribbon,
Easy to pull, and to run through eager fingers,
Her hand grips your thigh while you croon some old hymn,
......
तू कब तक यूँ सहेगी
by Muskan Sharma
तू कब तक यूँ सहेगी
तू कब तक यूँ सहेगी
तू कब तक यूँ चुप रहेगी
तू कब तक अपने आपको रोकेगी
तू कब तक यूँ सहेगी।
किसी का तुझको यूँ नीचा दिखाना
किसी का तुझपर यूँ हाथ उठाना
किसी का तुझे यूँ चुप करवाना
तू कब तक यूँ सहेगी।
......
She grew up sweet and virtuous
by Martina Athokpam
She grew up sweet and virtuous,
Fancied and adored by everyone;
but she never knew what lies ahead.
Those fairy tales and fantasies
Vanished in front of her.
Reality opens its miserable door,
the road ends ,but the journey was yet to begin
Neither can she walk ahead nor walk behind
......
To the women from the graves
by Priyanka Roy
Women are rising from their graves, from their coffins in tattered clothes and battered bodies from the circle of death and are now marching down the streets, in flocks to let the world see them, borne in blood, tied to their mother's cord, they ascend with countless scars on their bodies, amassed over time, by centuries of oppression.
Thwarted and bodies fatigued of years of tales of protection and tenderness by agonised chaps.
They are marching downtown pouring stories like mud on their way for other women, mothers to collect and preserve.
Some crawl, some limp, some crouch -
Does Lord know what they have been through?
Some walk, steadily, clenching the burden of their breasts, oozing milk, neglected by their haughty inborn, defending them from strangers in congested buses, markets and clubs from uncles, cousins, paternal-maternal male relatives.
They are rising from their graves again
after a blistering deluge on Earth.
Dispersing and pinching out through the dark clouds - smiling, humming, lullabying
in languages local, rusty, thick.
......
