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Introspection Woman Poems | Introspection Poems About Woman

These Introspection Woman poems are examples of Introspection poems about Woman. These are the best examples of Introspection Woman poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | I do not know? | |

I Am a Large Woman

I am a large woman,
Broad lovely hips,
Soft round belly,
Big luscious lips.

Wherever I go,
People take notice of me,
Let them gawk,
At my massive beauty.

People that laugh,
Think they cause me dismay,
Too small to perceive,
The femininity I convey.

I am like a mountain,
Exuding simple grace,
Too vast and three dimensional,
To be considered commonplace.

I am a large woman,
With pride I stand tall,
I don't take up too much room,
This world's just too damn small.


Details | Light Poetry | |

Burka Woman

Such deep amber green eyes
Stare into me
Like arrows that so delicately pierce my heart
She is covered in a curtain of black woven cloth
Ah but her hair flows like caramel 
She is concealed and wrapped, the camouflage of fear
The burka hiding the princess within
I may not see with my eyes
Oh but how my heart dreams
Of running in the meadows, laughter at our own happiness
Her voice is musical, and softly charms my soul
I am lost in illusions, of this woman in chador
She hides inside this blackness
Her heart protected by dragons
In the dragons lair so deep
I gaze intently into this darkness
I breathe the fire of rejection
I have no chance with this maiden of such beauty
You see
Her dress is blue like the summer breeze
Her hair blonde like the golden skies
She is the desire of many a suitor
As she sleeps in the drum tower
High above all of loves intentions
The bailey her only wanderings
As you see the only burka she ever wore
Was around her heart


Details | Narrative | |

Call Me Gonzo

For thoose of you who may not know.
Just call me gonzo I write the absurd for life is insane and sometimes 
it takes a madman to speak the truth so very clear.

I write for the broken vacant faces that have lost all hope.
To the dreamer who's well is slowley running dry from everyone
telling him to stop wasting his time.

I write like a endless highway fueled by whiskey and wild women 
every adventure leads to pain but life is pain and i love in spite of it.

I thirst for every unseen mile the desert my brother it's people dwell
in the spirt of the west the opium parlors and brothels spirt still linger.
I write with a hint of danger and a promise of disaster.

Im a blues player whos trying to out run the devil.
Im a outlaw riding to cross the border a woman looking to the 
empty range for my return.

I write because I breath in a world were the creative air has gone 
stale.
The bottle sits apon table and I welcome any strangers company
I just rather that stranger be a warm woman instead of a 
unfriendly amigo who is a little jelouse.

Write to be more than just part of the highways landscape.
Some may call me crude crazy insane some even vulgar and 
liar and thief.
But aside from thoose compliments.
No matter what you may call me.
Dont ever forget to just call me gonzo.


Details | Lyric | |

Surrender

Sitting in this empty room
Looking at broken pictures of me and you
A broken life together
I always thought we’d make it forever

What has become of me?
I never ever thought I would be
One of those who were beaten down
One of those who didn’t make a sound

Silent when you pushed me around
Silent when you covered my mouth
Silent when you raised your hand
Silent when you gave your commands

But something deep within my soul
Tells me to rise up and take control
Take a hold of my lost self again
Knowing if I don’t this might be the very end

You will not break me down this way
You will not darken my coming days
I am stronger now you see
And I will never let you kill the beautiful soul inside me

I am someone who has a voice
I am a woman who can make my own choice
I don’t need permission to be free
Or to discover the real woman inside me

Discovering the strength and power within
To let the bright shining sun shine in
To let my heart feel free and bold
To let my soul escape your choking hold

I’ve come to realize just a few things
That my life is worth more than two gold rings
Sometimes it has to be that way
For me to take ME back and then for me to say…

I am a beautiful woman inside
I will never ever run away and hide
I will rise to the very top
I won’t quit and I won’t stop

There is nothing that I can’t do
There is nothing left for me and you
So now I surrender and just let go
I am special this I know…..


Details | Epigram | |

THE WANDERING WOMAN for epigram contest

    THE WANDERING WOMAN

“Go tell the Spartans, Passersby--
A foolish woman does here lie.
She tired of each familiar face--
Thus died mid strangers in this place.”


Details | Free verse | |

All Woman

Is it the sparkle in my eyes or the thickness of my thighs?

Is it the fullness of lips or the curve my hips

That lets you know that I’m ALL WOMAN 100%

Is it the grace of my walk or the way that I talk?

Is it the life that we share or the warmth of my care?

That lets you know that I’m ALL WOMAN 100%

Is it the softness of my touch or the fact that you can never get enough? 

Is it the give and take or the love that we make?

That lets you know that I’m ALL WOMAN 100%

Is it the thought of my taste that puts a smile on your face?

Is it the sweetness of my skin or that overwhelming yearning within

That lets you know that I’m ALL WOMAN 100%

Some say phenomenal,some heaven sent

But I say I’m ALL WOMAN 100%


Chiquita Baity


Details | Concrete | |

Woman

                                          
                                           VVV
                                          I I I
                                       XXX
                                     EEE
                                  NNN
                                         P VV
                                     A    II
                                   S     XX
                                  S      EE
                                I        NN
                                O        F
                                 N     O
                                      X
               Vixen    doll
         B                 
         E
         A                  Hot
         U               Shot
         T            Mama
          I          Not Afraid
          F      At All
         U     To
         L      Be Free
         l         With             
        a          Her
        d           Sexuality
       y               Dangerous
      w               m  Curviest
      i                 a      Thing you’ve
     l                  k          Ever Seen
   d                 e              Self-Esteem
                      s                 Is higher than
                     M                  Mountains
                    E                     Love flows deeper
                   N                       Surges Greater 
                  c                          Than any river
                  r                            Emotions as unchanging as the sea
                a                             Modern Day
               z                           Super Hero
              y                          Working hard
           W                         Daily
          I                         To defeat
      L                      Sexual Inequalities
  D                  Worthy of stealing
                 Any man’s fancy
               Vivacious
             Sensuous
           Respect the
          Woman
        Woman
        Woman
       The Women
        In Our
          Society
           Please
              


[Dedicated to the Women, the strong, the brave, the merciful]
[The Mothers, the Daughters, the Wives]
[ the women who make up our lives]


Details | I do not know? | |

The Writer I Am In My Dreams (A response to The Woman I Am In My Dreams by Maxine Tynes)

The writer I am in my dreams
is more sophisticated than I am
and sees the world as an untold story
I mainly see the footsteps behind me
        Where I stepped softly so as not to call attention to myself
this writer conjures volumes about the man on the bus
who has a scar on his face five inches long
she elaborates on his life with gifted prose
he is a pilot shot down in Vietnam
guerillas gave him a scar and set him free
he used to be a lion tamer
that one is self-explanatory
I simply cannot stop staring at his scar and wonder
does it bother him to have such a mark?

The writer I am in my dreams
has perfect time management
goes to work, attends class
has a beau
        moves from day to day
        finds time for friends and play
        hobbies and exercise
        dance class and likewise
the writer I am in my dreams
her words are clear and precise
they don't feel like empty thoughts on a page
they don't sound immature
her words and statements work
they don't get in her way and make her mind spin
and conjure up thoughts of self-worth
they whirl around the room and
whisper about the unimagined
they dialogue with rhyme and wit
and they always converse graciously

the writer I am in my dreams
I wake up and pray to be
and sometimes my prayers are answered


Details | Personification | |

The Tree

The Tree- 

My bark is worn from time and life
My steady branches have withstood much strife
The life blood that raged in my youth
Its edges raw and at times uncouth
Time has polished and as steel has hardened
As I have stood watch faithfully in my garden
My saplings I have sheltered and nourished
Their tiny sprouts have grown and flourished
My work here is almost done and
I was content to stand silent in the sun
However, one day as I stood alone
Came a carpenter with hands gentle and strong
He looked past my peeling ragged bark and
Found my barely beating heart.
He has caused me to dream of my youth again
Of beauty, peace and the passion of men
I am his project to mold and to make
A challenge only he is equipped to take
I stand here now curious to see
What this craftsman can make of me.


Details | Ode | |

An Ode To My Beloved

I just wanted to let you know
That I have this love for you...
Although I'm not fast to show
For you, there's nothing I wouldn't do
And I can't control this love
No matter what I try to do...

While I know our lives are separating
Which has got me pretty blue
I just want you to know
How much I love you...

Because I was blinded by shyness
And now my heart's feeling rugged
So this here's An Ode To My Beloved 

Oh how I still see you every night in my mind
You're the best girl I feel I'll ever find
And when my eyes would fall upon your smile
My heart would be put on trial
And so if nothing else, I want to let you know
That I'll always love you, that my hearts beat
For you, won't ever slow...

Because I was blinded by shyness
And now my heart's feeling rugged
So this here's An Ode To My Beloved 

So I wish you happiness beyond compare
And sorry for the times I couldn't help but stare
Caring, passionate, smart, and loving
From my heart, to you, I'll never be shoving

You will always be in my heart
No matter where we go, how far we drift apart...

Goodbye My Love...


Details | I do not know? | |

The Beach of Promises

The Beach of Promises


1.


Fingers entwined, barely touching,
turquoise waters teasing your dancing toes,

strolling along that serene deserted beach,
our promised dreams within aching reach.


2.


Hands clasped, holding on,
sea-breezes tickling the nape of your neck,

walking together, alone, vowing to never breach,
the dreams dreamed on that faraway velvet beach.


3.


Hands in my pockets, alone,
traces of you linger, teasing,

lost in my scribbles, your memory fading out of reach,

my thoughts ablaze, now and then,
catching a whiff of your fragrance,

wafting through alleyways of nostalgia,
your hand in mine on our pristine beach.




Details | Personification | |

This Day

This is a day that I could have really done without,
Saying you love me and do this to me hurts no doubt.
   Day  after day I pray that you will please stop,
What pain you've caused me has taken all I've got .
   I love you and adore you but it seems not to matter,
Still you continue to hurt me leaving my heart shattered.
   You come to me with words I have only  dreamed ,
But what they were meant for was to hurt me it seems .
    Never  have I seen a woman with so much hate ,
Taking revenge on me by disrespecting me till it hurts.
    True I have  waivered with my troubles with trust,
The one thing thats important and this is a must.
     There are no more words or sayings that will ever work,
I have tried everything  I know giving it all that its worth .     
     To the day I die I will never understand why ,
The woman I love does everything to make me cry .
     So this my dream to be forever with you ,
Is only nightmares for me  and dying is all I can do.
     This a day I surely could do without.
TAC


Details | Free verse | |

Plight of the Adult Daughter

What do I give the woman who gave me everything,
but every bit of myself?
What do I say to the woman who gave up so much
so that I could fly when she could not?
What do I do for the woman
whose only happiness is my joy?
Whose only sorrow is my pain?
For the woman attached to me;
of who I am but a part?
What do I have for the woman 
whose only meaning in life is my life?

I'm claustrophobic but this love is so intense
I'm afraid that she may feel my feelings
that she may think my thoughts,
that she'll cry my tears,
and I'll be nothing.

Feeding off of each other
we'll spiral together--
I have her crazy in my veins.

I'm lost.
Every morning I look for myself in the mirror
but, find her face instead.


Details | I do not know? | |

The Women



The Women



(for the countless women, names unknown, who bore the brunt of Apartheid, and who fought the racist system at great cost to themselves and their families, and for my mother, Zubeida Moolla)



Pregnant, your husband on the run,
your daughter, a child, a few years old,

they hauled you in, these brutish men,
into the bowels of Apartheid's racist hell.



They wanted information, you gave them nothing,
these savage men, who skin happened to be lighter,

and white was right in South Africa back then,

but, you did not cower, you stood resolute,

you, my mother, faced them down, their power,
their 'racial superiority', their taunts, their threats.



You, my mother, would not, could not break,

You stood firm, you stood tall.

You, like the countless mothers did not break, did not fall.



You told me many things, of the pains, the struggles,

the scraping for scraps, the desolation of separation
from your beloved Tasneem and your beloved Azad,

my elder sister and brother, whom I could not grow
up with, your beloved children separated by time, by place,

by monstrous Apartheid, by brutish men,
whose skin just happened to be lighter.



You told me many things, as I grew older,
of the years in exile, of the winters that grew ever colder.

You were a fighter, for a just cause,
like countless other South African women,

you sacrificed much, you suffered the pangs,
of memories that cut into your bone, your marrow,

you resisted a system, an ideology, brutal and callous and narrow.



Yes, you lived to see freedom arrive, yet you suffered still,
a family torn apart, and struggling to rebuild a life,

all the while, nursing a void, that nothing could ever fill.



I salute you, mother, as I salute the nameless mothers,

the countless sisters, daughters, women of this land,
who fought, sacrificing it all for taking a moral stand.



I salute you, my mother, and though you have passed,
your body interred in your beloved South African soil,

you shall remain, within me, an ever-present reminder,

of the cost of freedom, the struggles, the hunger, the toil.


I salute you!



(for the brave women of South Africa, of all colours,
who fought against racial discrimination and Apartheid)






Details | Free verse | |

Daybreak

I wake on the sand
Right near the beach
You have yet to awake
Far out of reach
And Daybreak has arrived
A beauty unlike any other
Comparable only to us, girl
And how we love each other

So I gaze up alone
Marveling up at the sky
The warmth of the sun
Drying my eyes
I'm reflecting on us
Oh how each other we trust
I'm just so happy we're together
And I think to myself,
Just as this sun, we'll last forever

Then returning to be with you
I lay again now
Place my hand gently
On your warm tender shoulder
While I think of our lives today, love
And how they'll be when we're older...
I know there'd be no other way
So "I Love You" I make sure I say
To you, each and everyday


Details | Narrative | |

The Woman In White

It was a cold and rainy night.
The stars were shining bright.
It seemed as if the world was at a pause and not a person was in sight.
I sat quietly in my car, 
the sound of music I heard blasting from a far.
I opened my door,
stepped out slowly and looked around.
Now suddenly the music stopped,
not a word is heard, not even a sound.
I turned my head, looked over my shoulder,
I saw a woman running.
She was wearing a white gown.
I couldn't help but wonder why this woman running
flaunted such a frown.
I followed her footsteps,
I listened for the sound.
Running through the darkness,
one question came to mind,
Who would leave this woman?
Who would be so heartless?
How can someone leave her when she is so obviously distraught?
Abruptly a sound was heard.
I came to a stop.
I listened closely.
It was a gunshot.
Now fearful I stood.
I began to run as fast as I could.
I ran so fast, I could hear my heart beating.
I came upon my car and noticed a woman bleeding.
She was gasping for air.
Someone had shot her and left her to die there.
It was as if they didn't even care.
She reached for my hand,
whispered softly to me
"never trust a man"
At that moment her hand dropped.
I knew her heart had stopped.
I looked at her white gown now dripping red.
I I cried to myself and pondered what she had said.
This could be me.
I could be lying here dead.
I will remember her words always.
They will haunt me for the rest of my days.
This moment I will never forget.
No man should ever be such a threat.

This was the day my life would change.
From this day on I would never be the same.
The lesson I learned here,
never have such fear.
Fear that will keep me from being free.
I learned that I can be happy just being me.


Details | Rhyme | |

I'm Not the Kind of Person God Wants Me to Be

I’m not the kind of person I need to be! There’s too many problems inside of me! I’m not the kind of person you’d want to know… I’ve too many worries and a troubled soul! I’m the kind of person who has a lot of stress! Lately, my life has been one big mess! I’m the kind of person who doesn’t have a friend. You listen to me now… But may never see me again! I’m the kind of person who’s gone through pain! I wake up some days, and don’t even know my name! I may not be the kind of person you’d want to be around. I may get discouraged, and “get you down.” I’m the kind of person who’s giving Jesus a chance… I know he loves me! Whatever the circumstance! I’m the kind of person who needs a lot of prayer! I know that God listens! And is always there! Please help me Jesus! That I may be set free! May it be your love that others will see! Thank you Jesus! For being my savior and friend! You’re someone that this person can always depend! I’m not the kind of person that Jesus wants me to be! That’s why I need more of HIM! And LESS of me! By Jim Pemberton


Details | Narrative | |

Letter to taeljejohn

uncomfortableness, and hesitation arose that you might reassess a possibility for friendship or.... whatever with me.

A disappointment set in place in the event that based on some facet of my being (inexplicable flaws within this corporeal human male), forecast that an about face (booked on charges inherent in this googly eyed, earth-linked, kool hotmail of a yahoo) would be un liked!

Juno what i mean? 

In retrospect, no matter that this average boyish chap desires enjoyment, he admits that ordinary punctuating various stages of development difficulty coping found him msn (miss sin, missin, missing, et cetera) on ordinary interpersonal experiences!

No matter yours truly usually finds me each morning, noon or night conjuring up maximizing temporary residence on this planet earth versus bemoaning those futile and essentially counterproductive mind games sans could a, might a, should a, would a...

today = the moment to cherish, enjoy, help others, ponder the remaining years
since fruitless to expend tears
for suppressed emotional, financial, grammatical, hormonal, physical, and spiritual angst
 that roiled mine inner sanctum - mainly from decades in the past
   which unseen scars with humor this fellow (who by the way likes you) wears!

Notice the sly inclusion of my comment per -- affinity, desirability, rhapsody for you
although just but a mere inkling prevails about an ye taelje john thru
a rather contrived manner - albeit an online adult oriented website - amongst a slew
which yields to this bipedal hominid a scant few
initial responses - as if a ghost app paired in the recipient email - going boo
which unwittingly seems to turn the ivy blue!

So...no matter a constancy of follow-up electronic communiques occurs from ye
bringing tears of joy, that nobody can see
while simultaneously delivering digital glee
a reality check restrains proclivity and predilection to let thoughts run wild and free!

Immense and immeasurable mounts in moi little rock
inducing an electric arc for myself to kin neck embedded in all this schlock
for a sixth sense arises that this holme body strongly suspects yar self 
 to generate sunny watts as an s spy she lee Sherlock

but, reticence to gush with ebullience reins in a cascade
of utter delight washing o'er this less than satisfactory mwm 
 who as a boy and youth happened to b a frayed
of his own shadow - while walking along the boulevard of broken dreams
 listening to the sounds of silence on a green-day.

Thus => the following from one 

Cerebral being ™ in the am and pm
 
This ordinary human
Finds himself a mystery
Within the terrestrial
Firmament and frequently
Feels in a feverish pitch
At his existence
That seers the temple
Mounted upon this slender
Frame - wrought by the
Combination of genetics
In tandem with exercise
Which latter helps to
Sublimate the coiled 
Tension wound tightly 
Like an indestructible spring 
Without a healthy medium at large 
To channel emotions fraught within
Me might find demise
That would rent asunder literate fellow 
And thus annihilate without a trace
One true valued father of two us special
Lovely lasses as just another statistic among 
The obituaries!
 
As the world turns (indiscriminately oblivious of the harrowing days per one simian), an agreeable, amiable, edible, immeasurable, likeable, pleasurable, sensible woman (such as yourself - predicated on a gut level intuition) goads more seriousness to share

Plaintive unheard heart strings o mine that wail
Displeased with this marriage fraught with travail
As if in a maelstrom whip-lashed vessel without a sail
Yet - averse to lambaste or rail
Against abby (whereby we pass like two ships in the night) who married this male
When each of us happened to seem more similar 
   And thought each ourselves to fail
At any endeavor, though now confidence 
   Buoys my heart while she doth ail

And exemplifies attitudes, beliefs, efforts, 
   Idiosyncrasies, pathos that life does rot
Ill suited to Matthew Scott, 
   Whose bon vivant manifesting faith in him
   Perhaps from herself deferring many domestic 
   And child rearing tasks not
Of course being boasting - even when scissoring the umbilical cord
   As a now beaming papa, whose daughters 
   Blithely ignore "mother" a lot
Thus necessitating this quest 
   For a counterpart to offer succor 
   To eden (age 16) and shana (14 on february 4th, 2013) 
   Yet accepts that i must dispel any dreamy fantasy even this ours - a mere jot
At this juncture knowing full well how unwise to set myself up for disappointment
   By thinking and rushing like a fool, 
   Where angels fear to tread
   Though "chutzpah" i got!

U r slowly filling my mindscape with joy
Thank you so much - for accepting without complaint how atypically words this writer wannabe 
   Named Matthew Scott Harris dozen ploy.



Details | Personification | |

Empress Crown As Queen

I am going on a trip because I need to spend a week away from these aspects.

Don’t burn that money.

Don’t waste it either.

I’ll spend it on something that I dislike.

It may be a venture but since I have spent my money, I can get high.

Clip art are my drawings and they are of beautiful megabits.

I think I am superfly so I play Rock & Roll all night.

Madness 

Sheer excitement 

Escape to the highest heights of my imagination is when I know who I am and where I have been

Little am I and my jeans are tight.

With my big tits, I walk as if I am filled with sexual desire.

I see myself and smile.

My empire.

I’m feeling something that is so real.

I knew, if I lost focus, I lose my inner being.

So I give self a darn bulge, know that this is my world; therefore, I don’t lose the sensation.

The impression I give is that of confidence.

Self-asserted and assured, I moving up to finer things.

Handsome is the day and the night falls so lovely.

But I need to see what’s mine.

I need to see what belongs to me.

Strikingly, I find that I own so many priceless images.

A landscape I may pick to be serenity.

Or, a portrait is nice for the stillness.

I’ll plant a flower field to enjoy the contentment.

Equanimity is a silent panic.

I am just a being of the higher intelligence.

The noise is a clamor that does not last.

I will be the uproar of happiness.

Such a pleasure to have told you this.

If you want a replica, you may do the same.

That is joy in a virtual domain.

No more is the chance than any other government.

I have ruled this empire as long as I can remember.

Directions are easily to follow.

If you fail, I will not fail mines because all are downloadable.

I do not share my empirical secrets.

I am a régime of systems.

Simulated by thoughts that is pure.

Only I can be the downloader.


Details | Free verse | |

Woman, The I AM

I am the woman. I am the only woman. I am the one woman. My name is Women. I nurse nations at my breast. Ripened bosoms set loins afire. Life spews forth from my parted thighs. Astride they clamp and drain desire. Lips, that part as seas once did, Guiding the yearning with silent voice. Plump and moist, they quench the arid Voices singing their grateful rejoice. My blood flows red, and rich, and warm. Tears stream rivulets borne of joy and sorrow. A rib once lost, hath given no reason to mourn I am perfected, I will lead all tomorrow. Woman, is my name. Woman, I am the one. Woman, I am the only one. Woman, the I am.


Details | Haiku | |

What Do The Nuts Say

What do the nuts say?
“We thought we were safe being
parts of Bruce Jenner.”


Details | Rhyme | |

The halo effect

If there is one thing I remember
It is what life told
Just open your eyes
All that glisters may not be gold
So who is to blame and whose fault I hold
The halo effect, the one in disguise
Manifesting deception in front of thy eyes
Treat one different because of their look
Why read? Judge the cover of the book?
But you do read others because they don’t have the look
If you understand, how long has it took?
The halo effect, we magnify a trait
Condone the flaws, we magnify a trait
Attractiveness, is this what you mean?
All this talk, my perception a feign?
What I see, aint what it seem?
Huh, thanks for this, as well as that.
The halo effect, my mind was hacked. 


Details | Free verse | |

A Departing Memory

I know you.
Candles lit, incense fuming,
You like it when I bite your neck, just hard enough.
Blankets thrown about the room
So recklessly, they refold themselves.

And we roll down a hill together,
Kissing the leaves, tickling with our eyes,
Laughing with our hearts.
"You'll just leave me for the next girl you find."
"Yes," I say. Because only
Nothing
Lasts forever.
And it spills through the cracks in your hands
The moment you grasp it.
Like water from a stone.
She bites my neck
Drawing lines of ecstasy down my back with her fingernails
Spilling into me, fighting my words.
"I leave when the sun sets."




Details | I do not know? | |

The Nameless - for South Africans of all colours who fought for freedom


The Nameless


Slipping through the sieve of history,

the nameless rest.

Not for the nameless are roads renamed, nor monuments built.

Not for the nameless are songs sung, nor ink spilled.

The nameless rest.

Their silent sacrifice,

quiet ordeal,

muted trauma,

remain interred,

amongst their remains.

The nameless rest.

Not for the nameless are doctorates conferred, nor eulogies recited.

Not for the nameless are honours bestowed, nor homages directed.

The nameless rest.

They rest within us,

they walk with us,

in every step that we tread.

They rest within us,

they walk with us,

for their spirit is not dead.


“Your name is unknown, your deed is immortal”
- inscription at The Tomb of the Unknown Soldier WWII in Moscow


Special thanks to my dearest elder sister Tasneem Nobandla Moolla, whose conversations with me about life as a non-white person growing up in pre and post-Apartheid South Africa prompted me to write this dedication to the countless, nameless South Africans of every colour, whose sacrifices and dedication in the struggle against Apartheid tyranny must never be forgotten.


My sister’s middle name ‘Nobandla’ which is an isiXhosa name and means “she who is of the people” was given by her godfather, Nelson Mandela, my father’s ‘best-man who could not be, as Nelson Mandela was unable to-make it to my parent’s wedding as he was in jail at the time in the old Johannesburg Fort. This was the 31st December 1961.


Details | Haiku | |

What People Were and What People Are

People were
Many things.
Strange or not

People were
Different and
Odd and fun.

People were
Monsters but…
That’s not all

People were
And still are
Strange and odd.

People are
People. For
life is life. 

Yet not.
Not is lies.
Truth seeps from

Every mouth
Lies, lies, lies
Move, move, move

But somehow
Lies prevail.
Lies are life.

Lies are death.
Lies are homes.
Lies are pain.

Lies are truth.
Yet somehow.
Truth prevails.

Truth is life.
Truth is death.
Truth is home.

Truth is pain.
Truth is lie.
Truth is that.

Lies will die.
Lies will cease.
Nevermore.

Truth will live.
Truth will be.
Forever.


Details | Haiku | |

MUSIC - HAIKU

Play The Radio Get Up And Dance All Night Long Music Heals The Soul


Details | Rhyme | |

A Woman Not a Girl

On this earthly plane I've come to be
an older woman,not a girl.
But in my dancing reverie
bend me over and watch me twirl!

For there came a time inside my life
I could only see the years pass by.
Realization cut like a knife;
I spent my days upon a sigh.

Then I put away my childish things;
one moment and they were gone.
I learned even the caged bird sings
when breathing in the newborn dawn.

Never a shrinking violet here
on the stage of my own history.
I'll keep going for now it's clear
life's really not such a mystery.


So I'll rock on into the night
when joy appears,give it a whirl.
Turn all the darkness into light
for I'm a woman,not a girl!


By Deb Wilson
for contest"Coming Of Age"
sponsored by Frank Herrera


Details | Acrostic | |

A TAPESTRY WOMAN


Artless and aged, a comfort, a frayed rag,

This woman is woven of many yarns,

Aware of life’s hazards, each sudden snag,

Pondering losses that will not be darned,

Enraptured, though, by what some dare not see,

Seams in the sunshine, the twining of night,

There, fabric of what was and what could be,

Revealed by silk strands to my spun delight.

Y ears have softened me; I am less but more,

W hat was bright and brash is muted and spent,

O ld tales held by pulled threads, my token lore,

M oments sweetly stitched, forever content. 

A heart’s history that love still spans, 

Never to fade, a tapestry woman.


Details | I do not know? | |

The Petty Posh-WahZee - Liberation and Ostentation



The Petty Posh-Wahzee - Liberation & Ostentation


The Not-So Distant Past:

The fallen fighters for freedom, are unable to turn in their graves,
their battered, fragmented bones, mixed with a handful of torn rags,
are all that remain, a mute reminder of their selfless valiant sacrifice.

They endured brutal Apartheid harassment, detentions without trial,
torture in the cells, and mental anguish when loved ones disappeared,
they left their homeland, to continue the struggle against racial bigotry,
while countless others fought the scourge of white-minority rule at home.

Nelson Mandela and many, many others, spent their lives imprisoned,
on islands of stone, and on islands of the cruellest torture, yet they stood,
never bowing, never scraping, they stood, firm for ideals for which they were prepared to die,

and many, many comrades did die, at the hands of the callous oppressor,
and many, many comrades perished in distant lands, torn from their homes,
while the struggle continued, for decades, soaked in blood, in tears, in pain.


The Present:

19 years have passed, since freedom was secured at the highest of prices,
delivering unto us, this present, a gift of emancipation from servitude,

a freedom to walk this land, head held high, no longer second-class citizens,
in the land of our ancestors, whose voices we hear and need to heed today.

I do not care much for fashion, Lewis-Fit-On and Sleeves unSt.-Moron,
yet the ostentation that I witness baffles even my unsophisticated palate,

our ancestors' plaintive whispers are being dismissed, left unheeded, as
we browse the aisles for more and more, always for more and yet more.

Asphyxiated by the excess of the Petty Posh-Wahzee, we find ourselves,
perched precariously on the edge, of a dissolution of all that is humane,

babies go hungry, wives are battered, our elders left in hospitals for hours,
I cringe as I scribble these words, perhaps too sanctimonious and preachy,

yet I know, deep in the marrow of my brittle bones, I know, I know, I know,
this tree of freedom planted by the nameless daughters and sons of Africa,

needs to be shielded, nurtured, protected from our very own baser impulses,
so that the precious tree of freedom, may bear the fruit that may feed us all,

for if not, then we are doomed, to tip over, and into the yawning abyss, we shall fall.








Details | Free verse | |

I am - All Woman

~ Who am I ~

The epitome of independent ~

definition of pain ~ despair ~ heartache ~ love ~ loss ~

and undeniable strength and triumph through it all. ~

Never been perfect and don't want to be ~

Who I am is okay with me. ~


~ Who I am ~

Complicated ~ Strong Willed ~ Aggressive ~ Blunt ~

Honest ~ Open minded ~ Driven ~ Self-Motivated ~

Optimistic ~ Beautiful ~ Loving ~ Eloquent ~ 

Poetic ~ and Free...


~ I am All Woman ~

open your eyes, mind, and heart ~

Only then will you see ~

All this woman ~

all of me...

Lay