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Girl Life Poems | Life Poems About Girl

These Girl Life poems are examples of Life poems about Girl. These are the best examples of Girl Life poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Ballad |

Indian Girl

--Virginia Slim--

Different eyes, the same world 
Ancient skin, dirty Indian Girl 
Smokey, eyes, exotic raven hair 
---Now listen to  the colors, of transformation, 
On the day she was born, the wind blew in, 
A blessing ---her soul, fallen from the heavens
A  gorgeous puff of smoke, Miss Virginia Slim

Able to walk the world with an open mind, she twirls
Pocahontas, one of her many names. 
She carves, and climbs on trees, this little Indian Girl, 
Her feathers ride with the wind, against her red titian skin
Daughter of Chief Powhatan, a powerful tribal, red man 
Peace and love with the Indians of her Virginia Lands,

Many myths, many stories, maybe a mad woman, 
A new Christian, living sad poverty, a silent hero, 
Twisted tales, from savage green to ivory white religion
In her eyes, life never was about greed and skin
Her new look, attained an altitude precision
Pocahontas, tricked and captured, 
Set to sail another tribe, lands were taken over, 
Boat sailed out of Virginia Lands

Tribes acclaimed her to be wild and ambitious
"The naughty one," searching for admission
Native American child, before princess, 
Her beautiful soul, a short auspicious beginning
Leaving her world, beautiful and fearless
Forgetting her roots-- From Mother Willow's Vision 
Pocahontas, the Indian Legend from, The Virginia Lands

by;PD


Details | Quatrain |

Frosted Panes - re-post

                                   
When winter paints those frosty ferns on my windowpane
I find myself a little girl up on your lap again
In that old house, where you wove that coloured tapestry
With all the glorious memories of your life upon the sea

With weathered palm so deeply etched with every season past
You rubbed a porthole in the center of the frosted glass
Where outside in splendour lie a winter-wonderland
As halos rose above your head from a pipe bowl in your hand

And there upon a rocking chair as smoke rings filled the air
We rocked across a sea of dreams wind tangled in our hair
To lands I’d never been before we stepped upon those shores
And through your eyes I saw each one and still I wanted more

The morning passed in dreams between two pairs of eyes of green       
As the world outside held its breath in a sea of snowy cream
And when the chill of winter melted from the windowpane
The whistling kettle on the stove brought us home again

You held my hand and looked at me with that twinkle in your eyes
And told me you would be my Captain 'til the day I died
So when winter paints those frosty ferns on my windowpane
I find myself a little girl up on your lap again 

             ~~~~~


Written:  Jan 15, 2011

Author:  Elaine George
First Place in Brian Strand's contest:  Let's See
4th   Place In - Anything goes contest

In loving memory of my Dear Papa 'Captain James George'.


Authors Note:
When I was a child of three, I Went to live for a year with my Grandparents in Nova 
Scotia. At that time my Grandfather was a retired Sea Captain of a Three Mast 
Schooner. He had spent most of his life at sea, taking lumber and coal to New 
Brunswick and various ports in the U.S. and in the winter months, would carry on  to 
pick-up and deliver  cargo in the  West Indies. Although my time with him was short, 
the memories we shared have comforted me through-out the years.  
~~~~~


   
 


 


Details | Narrative |

Sweetest Love Note

One night a guy & a girl were
driving home from the movies. The
boy sensed there was
something wrong because of the painful
silence they shared between them
that night. The girl then asked the boy to pull over
because she wanted to talk. She told him that her
feelings had changed & that it was time to move on.
A silent tear slid down his cheek as he
slowly reached into his pocket & passed her a folded note.
At that moment, a drunk driver was speeding down
that very same street. He swerved
right into the drivers seat, killing the boy.
Miraculously, the girl survived. Remembering the note, she
pulled it out & read it.
"Without your love, I would die."


Details | Free verse |

She Hulk

When I was a child I only ever wanted to be strong.
I wanted to be able to compete with the boys
and when I foot raced them at recess I won every time.
They called me ‘She Hulk’ because of my muscular frame
and from the way I only ever wore soccer t-shirts and sweat pants.
After that nickname was implanted into my brain like a growing weed,
I’ve only ever wanted to be feminine.
I started wearing skirts and dresses 
and in middle school they shrieked at the site of my makeup and done up hair.
But that weed inside of my mind only grew, and grew, and grew
until I became a mixed drink cocktail
with one part anorexic and two parts lonely,
because I thought that the definition of feminine began with the word frail.
No one ever realizes how greatly words affect us,
how a simple nickname can turn a pretty girl into a skeleton.
I stood at five foot two weighing seventy nine pounds,
so cold and frozen,
yet I still considered myself a ‘She Hulk.’
You could see my ribcage through my t-shirt
and my spinal cord protruded loudly through my weathered skin,
as if somehow my bones were dirty knives
just trying to cut through the flesh of judgment.
As I grew older I became the girl that was never enough.
Not good enough to speak poetry.
Not good enough to lay paint on a canvas.
Not good enough.
Not tall enough.
Not big enough boobs for them.
Not primped to perfection.
Not undeniably straight.
Not smart enough.
Not dumb enough.
Not ditsy enough.
Not cool enough or fun enough.
And I began to believe, too, that I wasn’t enough.
I never told my mother that I had been in madly in love with a girl.
I never told anyone about the night we first kissed 
because I was too vulnerable for the judgment.
And parents always justify saying that ‘kids will be kids’
But when we are kids our brains are still growing
and the smallest of seeds that get planted will one day bloom
into one giant regret,
will one day affect the choices that we make,
will one day influence us about the clothes that we wear,
will one day shape us into the person who we thought we would never be.
I only ever wanted to be strong,
and as a child I thought strength was only about being able
to lift a bar stool above your head.
I thought that strength was only about being able
to beat the boys in bare foot running races.
I was told that strength was something only
a man could have.
But as I’ve grown older I’ve realized that strength
isn’t about muscle at all,
but it’s about weakness,
and the ability to overcome the social anxiousness.
It’s about carrying around a lifetime of baggage
on your broken back
because the ones that kicked you when you were down
are going to be the ones that were  ultimately wrong.
I thought that the definition of woman 
began with the word disappointment.
And I became a mixed drink cocktail
with one part freedom
and two parts Sailor Jerry
because every girl needs a stiff drink once and awhile.
We are not disappointments.
We will never be the ones who gave up on hope.
We will never be the ones who gave up on each other,
or god,
or our mothers.
We will always be enough;
enough for the ones who shunned us 
enough for the ones that cursed us
enough for the ones the hurt us
and destroyed us
and beat us when we were covered in bruises.
But you see, bruises fade
and the scars of our flesh are only stories
things we have overcame
and there are things out there that we will overcome.
When I was a child, I only ever wanted to be strong.
I hid my vulnerability.
I hid the parts of me that were true.
I never told my mother about my girlfriend
because I was afraid she wouldn’t understand,
kind of like all those people who never understood 
just how much words effect us. 
I can’t say that I can beat the boys at foot races anymore,
because, well, I smoke cigarettes now.
And I can’t say that the nickname of my childhood didn’t affect me.
But I take that name now and embrace it.
Because I am strong.
I am the ‘she hulk’.
I am a mixed drink cocktail
with three parts greatful.


Details | Free verse |

A Girl

As light leaves us,
the truth is unveiled.
A girl lies with sorrows unscaled.
To wither and die, 
without hope on her side.
She can no longer see a light,
to guide her through those forsaken nights.
She waits for a sign,
that all will come in line.
She is in pain,
with no one to help, all efforts sought in vain.
When will the girl see,
there are others like she.
Others share her pain, 
others like me.
Her light once pierced through the shadows,
it was a beacon through the night.
Now it is only a dying flame,
leaving the world to darkness,
cowering in shame.
A girl lies dying in her pain.


Details | I do not know? |

A Broken Lover

People look her way
But they don’t understand
No one knows the pain she’s felt
The tears she’s cried
And the life that has died.

There was once a time
When the love was alive
The tears never came 
And the smile never faded

The girl up above was the one who knew to love 
The one who’s heart and smile was free 
The one who used to believe in her dreams

Now that girl is gone 
Replaced by one who slowly fades away 
Destined to walk her own death 
Fading to a broken lovers grave.

Walking as if the life was gone
Speaking to a ghost of her past
Screaming to be free 
And wanting to believe again.

Will the life longed for 
Ever be relived?
Will the love she searches for 
Ever be received ?

Or is a broken lover…
 all she has come to be?


			



Details | I do not know? |

Why would a 12-year girl want to die?

Why would a 12-year girl want to die?
What would make a 12-year-old girl end her life?
Why would a 12-year-old girl want to say goodbye?
Now I lay here with an empty bottle of pills by my side.
It was just too much to hide.
My little brother found me on my bathroom floor.
He went screaming out the door.
The ambulance came and I heard voices fading away.
I can still make out what they say.
Why would a 12-year girl want to die?
What would make a 12-year-old girl end her life?
Why would a 12-year-old girl want to say goodbye?
Now I lay in a hospital bed.
He can’t hurt you anymore the nurse said.
Thank god the gun box was locked.
Now theirs a knock.
The cops came in and said my sister talked.
They said after what my father did he will never walk.
Why would a 12-year girl want to die?
What would make a 12-year-old girl end her life?
Why would a 12-year-old girl want to say goodbye?
He came in my room at night.
Something’s a child just cant fight.
Tired of living with this dirty feeling.
Tired of all together feeling.
Why Daddy Why?
Why would you make me cry, lie, and all-together die?
Why would a 12-year girl want to die?
What would make a 12-year-old girl end her life?
Why would a 12-year-old girl want to say goodbye?
Mom didn’t know.
She said it wasn’t my fault and beyond my control.
They said there were more.
They just were scared to come forward before.
Now I’m on the stand facing a child molester.
The lawyer asks my father.
Why would a 12-year girl want to die?
What would make a 12-year-old girl end her life?
Why would a 12-year-old girl want to say goodbye?
What did you do that was so bad that your daughter wanted to die?


Details | Free verse |

A Girl Who Sells Peanuts

She floats on the saffron shore,
Holding a bamboo basket.
Her heart beats 
Within the shelter
Of peanut shells.

Toys and textbooks ;
Picnics and pampering s ; 
All collided on a roadside wall,
But death dropped her to be tossed.

The girl in a dirty frock –
She sells parched peanuts
For coins and eye pricks.

“Peanuts”, “Peanuts” – her withered call
Haunts her parents in the dungeon of a grave.

Her pale figure walks away with Time Teacher.

FABIYAS M V


Details | Free verse |

A Beautiful Reverie

Here I lie beside you
My heart goes thump.thump.thump.
My soul dances inside you
Reveling in the texture of your own.
Electric and flowing 
The currents of our love
Glow like neon lights
Illuminating the hope in my eyes.
Though we're not moving
I feel so incredibly alive
Invincible to my past
Untouchable by all who lack
That gentle touch of when 
You lean in and brush my face
Your lips grazing my skin
Softer than a butterfly.
And then you gaze into my eyes
I fall into your depths 
Twirling like the autumn leaves
Melting into your smile 
Your soul reminiscent of summer.
You pull me into your arms 
And for a moment I'm lost 
Breathless and in awe
Staring in the face of pure exquisite love 
And there you are - holding it 
Glowing in the moonlight of my stare.
My heart beats - its drum pounding away
Echoing a song thats lost its words
I touch your cheek and smile
My hands cant stay away
My lips s l o w l y, draw near yours
Hovering, and then - 
Part, a soft warmth against them.
My eye lids pulling shut
Dragging me into a silent heaven
I pull away - and what seemed millennia
Lasted only a moment, a second in time
But this is our love
This is what you do to me
You make me invincible and fragile
Lost forever in a beautiful reverie.


Details | Sonnet |

Confessions to a Bartender

BARTENDER! BARTENDER! Pour me a drink if you please
strongest you got...get the lime twist it, with a squeeze.
Had a rough night last night..got a bug for your ear
Pour yourself a stiff one..buddy... come-sit right here.
Remember the man I told you about -I saw the other day?
Said it's his playground....ask me to come out and play?
I went over that night…my husband’s out of town-
Bartender…let me tell you..let me tell you  what I found..
Mansion..pure mansion..from the front to the back
Money everywhere..he definitely has no lack
Bartender.. he..had..me- when he turned down the lights
He got closer asked me to stay even spend the night.

The dim lights, soft music, scent of his Drakkar Noir
Girl..I was ready what else could a girl ask for?
Just when I prepared to form my lips to say “yes”
What happened next.. go ahead take a guess
I tossed my head back to masculine scents of his cologne-
Another song began to play, girl it was my phone.
My husband was calling me.. he was on his way back-
Bartender, I thought I would die.. have a heart attack!!
I hurried up and got my shoes..coat and all the rest
If it hadn’t been for that…well..you know, I must confess!


Confessions To A Bartender



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