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Women Ballad Poems | Ballad Poems About Women

These Women Ballad poems are examples of Ballad poems about Women. These are the best examples of Women Ballad poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Ballad |

Slow Movin Tights

I'm in me bath here, with a box of red cheer, 
yeah a box of red cheer, beer's too bloody dear.
Me mind's wanderin twixt big tits and riches, 
bein able to scratch at what itches, 
without scratchin the bum out your britches.
 
If they think you got what, 
they'd rather they'd got, 
mate, hang onto your hat, 
they'll bloody take that. 

That girl in black tights, so jam-packed with delights, 
nights full of delights in them slow movin tights. 
She's not, like Jacko reckons, a whore.
Wouldn't lie on me bare wooden floor.
Christ, I did nothin to get to be poor.
 
And you can't pay what's due
so your creditors sue? 
Funny old world, not half.
But good for a laugh.
 
I can't help but hear next door's shoutin and tears,
all their shoutin and tears, I can hear em from here, 
through the stem of me glass on the wall. 
Pray to God he don't hit her at all. 
I'm half pissed and spliffed and I never could brawl.
 
But I stand in the queue, 
for a place in the zoo. 
Heard you shouldn't have pride.
They wouldn't have lied.
 
A party's upstairs but I can't breathe their airs.
I won't breathe their airs, them there upstairs.
So I fill the bathroom with me smoke.
All those girls shaggin some other bloke.
I just lie here and soak and suck on me toke.
 
What's it like not to do
as the pain wants you to? 
If it's all that seems real, 
what else do you feel? 

I hear downstairs' soul hit his lavatory bowl.
That porcelain bowl gets the whole of his soul, 
as I wring out the bladder of red.
All the sweetest of girls, Jacko said, 
have big whites to their eyes that aint never've bled.
 
There aint nothin so nice 
as those whitest of whites.
On rich girls with sweet arses
in slow movin tights.


Details | Ballad |

Detoured Dreams

I always thought of heaven,
as a warm, New England Fall day. 
The leaves were shining brighter
than the street post lamps at midnight. 
I’m cruising along the highway. 

Passing scenic pastures, tiny plazas and singing-
perhaps we are all just standing
on the great shoulders
of the men and women who were before us?
Everything that was -is 
fortunately apart of today.  

And I write-
because it relieves my pain. 
I create
because it’s nice to remember how to love.
Am I therefore less worthy, 
if I one day choose to make money, 
off my lovely creations?

What if Hitler had become an artist? 
Legend has it at one time, 
that’s what he wanted out of life.

What if Hitler had become an artist? 
What if someone had embraced this passion, this skill?
He could have sipped wine, 
painted on blank canvases,
and basketed in reflection of the moon.

He could have
Made love, 
and wrote songs, 
and Praised God, 
for the fortune of being able to dream. 
 
Instead, 
He abandoned his love for creation,
His love of art, 
praised only the devil
and became crazed with hate,  
millions were slaughtered, 
millions had to pay the price.
How tragic can life be?  

But now, 
I’m Passing through scenic pastures, tiny plazas and singing-
perhaps we are all just standing
on the great shoulders
of the men and women who were before us? 
Everything that was -is 
unfortunately apart of today.  

we never know just how much
shutting down one little, tiny, persons dream
can effect so many other people’s dreams.
and the generations to come. 

What if Hitler had become an artist? 
 would it have spared us some?


Details | Ballad |

WHEN I LOVE THEE

I am not a voluptuous beauty Nor do i live a life of purity I can only say: I love wholeheartedly With all I am so truthfully I have been keeping my heart open Though it gets hurt and pain so often I never have gone irate As I know love changes the heart rate.. Guys tried to coo and woo They say words as for "only you" However, hard to believe it is true? As I have been seeing some untrue I have always give chances As my heart marks with tact entrances I learned from various instances Acknowledging man in romances In a place where rules impedes Two persons who wants to bid Not of money but of affection Between them genuine determination I love thee.. Not of what you have.. Not even of who you are.. But with how you are to me.. If I love you.. You don't need to tell me much what to do.. As me, myself will show you.. I am that real and true.. Yes, I am like by many Tell you what, I don't like this honey.. Nor do I'm proud of it in anyway As one is is enough to make me stay Stand with me through it all As I'll do give my best for us not to fall My name your sweetest call Echoing in every wall.. Hold me firm and dearly As you'll allow me to move closely We'll make it anyhow Just go smoothly on the flow... We are strong, aren't we? No one moving alone As together we'll face phases in tune.. Even if we will be in dunes.. by olive_eloi 3:25 pm 07/13/2013 CONTEST: ANY POEM GOES #13 SPONSOR: POET DESTROYER 8TH PLACE (TO GOD BE THE GREATEST GLORY)


Details | Ballade |

A Mother Like No OTher

I sing of a special mother
One like no other
One bothered about another

A mother who smiles and care
One who did nothing but share
It is great to know she is always there

When tear drops she brought a toy
Her whispers sparkles unceasing joy
Her love is stronger than the Helen of Troy

You taught me from wrong to right
You taught me the difference between darkness and light
You taught me to recite the Lord’s Prayer day and night

Envelope yourself in a mothers Love
For she is like an angel from above
Never trade her love for the price of a dove

As we celebrate all mothers in a special way
Thank you for your fidelity, even when we went astray
And above all, thank you for what we are today

He grants the barren woman a home, Like a joyful mother of children.
Praise the LORD! Ps 113:9


Details | Ballad |

THE PERFECT WOMAN

THE PERFECT WOMAN

What does a perfect woman mean? 
Does it mean something that meets your standards?
A standard measured by physical appearance
or from within towards one's heart and soul?

Perfect is just a label 
A label to define what you like in a woman
A woman whom you want to be with for the rest of your life
A life that will make you feel satisfied.

What is a perfect woman for me?
The perfect woman is a woman who is beautiful inside and out
Not only in the sight of those around us
But in the sight of GOD


By: Ms.Melba Regina V.Sales
      ( a.k.a RIPPED HEART AND SOUL )



Details | Ballad |

The Singer's Cloak

The singer sang from beyond the grave,*
Or in his grave, to be true.
His voice reached up to the architrave
And vibrated in every pew.

The vicar called on the choir to sing
As loud as loud they could.
But the voice had an even louder ring
Sending quivers down the rood.

Oh Lord, they sang, oh mighty God,
Gloria in excelsis deo.
But the singer sang of life’s hard rod
And of Hell's undying blow.

The women looked up the pillars tall,
While big-eyed children cried.
The singer had them in his thrall,
But was not to be descried.

The vicar read his sermon out,
As if proclaiming from the mount.
The singer responded with a voice so stout,
He sang of fear’s rich fount.

The congregation lost relation
To the good man’s godly word.
They stood in helpless trepidation,
Their souls so far disturbed. 

The church’s doors swung open wide,
To a cascade of chattering leaves;
The screams and panic and terror inside
Shook the church to its very eaves.

And then, oh then, oh horror pure,
The spectre appeared at the door.
His bloodied hair, his sombre allure,
Chilled the living to the core.

The vicar clutched up bible and ran
Through a hidden door to the side,
The singer opened his cloak like a fan
And wrapped all the children inside.

The women bemoaned this cruellest loss,
They wailed to the crucified Christ.
But bound and weak and nailed as he was,
There was nothing he could do.

* This Poem should be read in conjunction with 'The Pauper's Grave'


Details | Ballad |

Antigone

I am the face of misery
My life, a dissonance of autumn and spring,
The years are written in the same
Lugubrious, nostalgic grey
How can it be the author to blame?
I cannot scream this all away…
Burn nor Bleed this all away…
To Death I am Ordained

Lacuna ever growing
With Velvet sheets of life flowing
Aeons apart of my "royalty"
Under the mask the cannot see...
Can you dispel this tragedy:
Antigone - Epiphany failing

If it must be…
Then just kill me,
(Antigone) sing me out of reality;
I wear this dissonant crown of shame
(Antigone) Of a kingdom's disdain
I hate to be this way... normalcy's bane
(Antigone) Here comes the edict, to blame
The sordid child of Thebes,
This is me,
Antigone

No words of hope
No words of hate
Do I have Lenore to send to me:
The sordid child of Thebes
Caught In the longest nightmare
life - the slowest way to die

I know this is my life 
But I'm not under control
under the mask the will see
Just Another Human

If it must be…
Then just kill me,
(Antigone) sing me out of reality;
I wear this dissonant crown of shame
(Antigone) Of a kingdom's disdain
I hate to be this way... normalcy's bane
(Antigone) Here comes the edict, to blame
The sordid child of Thebes,
This is me,
Antigone

If it must be…
Then just kill me,
(Antigone) sing me out of reality;
I wear this dissonant crown of shame
(Antigone) Of a kingdom's disdain
I hate to be this way... normalcy's bane
(Antigone) Here comes the edict, to blame
The sordid child of Thebes,
This is me,
Antigone

Can you dispel my life; this tragedy?
Can you control the storm in my mind?
I'm asking you: can you rid me
Of The Curse of Antigone?


Details | Ballad |

My Invisible Ink

The evening sun dawdles into the dark
Night’s darkness croons nocturne
My eyes popple as they turn into Crocus flower
Dreams flow down as I sway in nirvana.

At the sight of your godly beauty
My soul wobbled at the edge of my oblivion
Your body as charming as Jips Twink-
The special kind of Pelargonium.

Delirious with joy I was contented
The pleasure alone filled my belly
As you revealed the pearl you’re
My roots are embedded in you.

At the morning sight of your face
Smiles cascade my face in torrents
Of expressions as morning unfolds
Joy opens in my heart a la Crocus flower

At the morning whisper of your wishes 
Purred with pleasure from the tone of your voice
I woke up with only but one thought-
You’re my invisible ink.


Details | Ballad |

Emotionless,and a sorry Excuse

Can Things ever last,
When they happen so fast.
do these tears and pain ever fade,
Is Drama yet another day,
That I must play to waste the day away, 
and ignore the pain,
 that never seems to fade.
I know that game,
I played it so many times,
Emotionless is what i shall be,
 for all times and eternity.
Galeea's training proved right,
All little boys play the game of deception,
But they do not realize that some girls see it before them,
Some girls grow up to be woman and are looking for guys,
Who want to be man enough  to take any
Drama and pitiful lies that other little girls spread around to see,
 if they can steal that one great guy in their life.
Pity is what it is called when a Man falls into that pit of vipers,
Why can i not be like those vipers?
 because I am too smart and not so vain as the 
 others girls i see around me.
  Because  i am me  and  i just want to be me
and that is what i would like to see,
 For that is reality.


Details | Ballad |

Slow Man's Rap

This here brois the Slow Man's Rap.
This slow man knows where it's at.
I'm never condescending. I'm always offending.
But being what I am is a job that's never ending.
I got my ways. I got my days, when people of 
different shades look at me in strange ways.

I don't care. I have no fear.

Didn't cause no one's troubles. 
I got my own. I just do my thing.
Then I go home.
So don't blame me, if you don't feel free, and 
why don't you just let me....go to sleep.

This here slow man treats life like toy.
Don't believe in sorrow. I believe in joy.  
Don't believe in fighting.  I believe in rhyming. 
And making the best of my too short timing.
Cause my bomb will blow, when my fuse burns low, 
and life's got to move. Not fast, but slow.  

Feeling fine, feeling free, feeling fun...
under the sun.

I've paid my dues and and sang my blues.
Now it's time to put on my walking shoes.
The thing is here, the thing is back.
The thing is coming at you with the master rap.

I got women on the left.
I got women on the right
I got work in the middle.
And this is my wife.

I'm one slow Joe, but a lot is what I know.
And I can't speak jive but, I know I'm alive.
I'm up and down, and all around.
Don't act like a clown, cause I rock this town.

I'm flying like a bird.
I am the word.

Now that I've bored you with my name.
And my stupid little game.
It's time that everyone go insane.

So, have a good time. On the party line.
Where the fun is so fine.
And laid on the line.

Enough with the rapping.
Let's see some hands start clapping.
Some feet start stamping, and 
lot's of dancing.

Or whatever
Or whatever
Or whatever

Y'all

Hit. Hit. Hit. Hit. Hit it

Get with it.
Get with it. 

Women so fine.
A bottle of wine.
A real good time.
I ran out of lines.

Moving my feet, to the master beat.
Looking nice and looking neat.

Move your feet
Move your feet.
Move, move those feet.

Hit it.

One last time.
One last time.
One last time.

Nevermind
Nevermind.


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