Modest woman moderate woman
Your inner beauty strikes me
Like the tongue of noble eloquence
More than gold even refined gold
Or our purged fulgent silver.
Black woman proud woman
Your pride is not haughty
But a humble pride of eaglets;
Your black eyes are so glittering
As the eyes of our dark rivers
Filled with messages of peace
That banish the broody turmoil
From those panting hearts
Of your foreigned offsprings.
Gentle mother diligent mother
Your kindness kindles the fires
Of my heart –
Your dexterity dresses
The table of our ageless history
And the thought of your being
– Oh kind mother! –
Makes the most delicious menu
For my heart.
I remember your naked feet
Fast and fair as a pigeon’s limbs
Treading the invisible paths
Almost covered by shrubs
Small shrubs misted by the prime mist.
I remember the wood from the wood
The water from the water
And manifold items from jungle alleys
Borne by your delicate hands
And upon your soft black-haired head.
I remember the constant match
To markets and to farms
And your bright face smeared with
The ash dust
Making you more beautiful
Than any woman whose feet
Ever touched the naked earth.
I remember those burdens
Upon your cheerful kin-souls
And babies strapped to your backs
Babes full of unspoken words
To unborn others in patient wombs
Waiting in an endless turn –
Indeed, mother is dove!
A black dove and a dark huntress
A hunter’s gift from the maker?
Mother is like a weaver-bird
Building a big foot-like nest
Filled with corn and warmth
A bundle of eagle-flight
Mother is dove
And the hunter calls her
The clan’s eternal dove.
Oh, mother loving woman
Gentle as our black horizon
To you we humbly come
From these far and lonely lands
Hoping to grace our love and beauty
Before that jealous grave
Makes her temporary feast.
Copyright © Canny Amah
I was blessed to know a woman in my life
Who faced hard times, struggle, and strife.
A Chinese immigrant, she came from a poor town
Lost her husband, was kept from her daughter, but not kept down.
She had three other children who were born here
Getting them a better life was her biggest fear.
She had to fend for herself and them alone you see,
Speaking little of the language in this foreign country.
But, she had always lived a determined life
So she fought back...with a fork and a knife.
She opened a restaurant in a small community
Where her gracious manner made her friends instantly.
Her children would grow up in town with new friends
The restaurant she opened was the mean to her ends.
She worked very hard...sometimes eighteen hours a day
She never complained because that was her way.
Her life's expectations knew more successes sublime
The restaurant grew...one egg roll at a time.
She once told me of the anxiety she felt at the money she'd spent...
Laughing said, "My uncle said sell 2 qts of Chop Suey/Day...you've got the rent."
She was a woman who chose kindness as she felt had to her been shown
To people far and near her generosity was known.
She was thankful that she had the opportunity
To give back with love rather than animosity.
I first met her over some 30 years back
She struck me from the that moment as a person who had the knack
To make others feel at home though strangers they be
She certainly did, because she did it to me.
I still remember her caring for me...it was shown
Once caught in a blizzard, she opened her home.
So often was there a path to this woman's door
Though she stood, less than 5 foot 4.
Her heart was as big and wonderful as one would want
An earthly angel, she was heaven sent.
Though her health began to wane later in life
She never gave in to that world of strife.
Her eyesight began to fail and it was difficult for her to see
But that didn't stop her or her generosity.
She loved people and filled everyone with cheer
Ever thankful that she had had a life here.
Though she is gone I'll never forget her face
Or her love of life, devotion to family, and unstoppable pace.
To me I'll ever be thankful to have had the joy
Of calling her "Ma" ... ONE IN A MILLION~was Connie Moy!
1st Place Winner - "One in a Million" Poetry Contest
Copyright © Daniel Cwiak
A woman belongs to God, not to man
Created from Adams rib
She was made to be by man’s side
Not above or below or just a ride
She is not to be treated any lesser
She is the life giver
Yet man continues to test her
She bares the pain that no man can bare
Man should be fair and care
To see that in today’s world is unfortunately rare
How much more can she take
Overtime she has cried and cried
Man is blind to this because of his pride
Man should protect and provide
Her sorrow will not end but continue into tomorrow
To hurt a woman is to hurt God himself
Copyright © Tilahun Taye
Busy getting ready to go to a meeting
I was looking through my closet for something to wear
My 20 year old daughter, Shereen, was in my bedroom
Showing me her new clothes
I marveled at her
What a body
What a beautiful woman
Her curves were to die for
Her thin waist set off her other assets to perfection
Such a womanly figure
Her black raven hair fell in big waves to her waist
She commanded attention
Her pencil thin skirt set her curves off to perfection
What a beauty!
I loved showing her off to the world
Just that day I had told her
She was a living goddess
Rushing to get ready
My mind was on finding something quickly
When her words totally threw me…
This paragon of beauty said to me:
“Mama, I was just looking at you earlier today.
You are so sexy
You have wonderful curves.
What you were wearing really set them off nicely.”
This 47 year old overweight woman
I looked at my daughter
Who is brutally honest
The one I turn to when I need an opinion
"How was the solo I sang in Church? Did I go off key?
Does this color suit me?
Am I being unreasonable?"
To all my questions she'd answer with truth, not mincing words
She'd call me on some actions that she thought were "childish"
"You're overreacting, MOM! Stop being a Drama Queen!"
And here she was saying...
"You're so pretty, Mama!"
Because I know she doesn’t hide the truth
I felt like my heart would burst
It may not seem like much to you all
But those words….
Filled that hurting place in my heart
That little place where insecurity has set up a home
Where walls echoe of coming age...and lessened desirability
That place where memories of who I was
Mock and jeer the reality of who I am
Deep in my heart
The words settled in
And for a time
Chased all the ugly away
and gave me back my glow
exuding out in my stride
and they way I carried myself
Those words reminded me
That age is an attitude
That the inner woman
The INNER woman doesn’t change
She is ageless
A few words….
But what a big gift
my daughter gave me today!
I know it's hard for men to understand the sheer agony a woman goes through when she realizes that time is passing her by. That certain age where menopause reminds you that fertility is a thing of the past and beauty is slipping away. Men don't understand....They just get better as they age...more handsome. The ravages to a woman's heart are extreme. Seeing white pepper your hair....changes to your figure...little wrinkles around the eyes. It hurts, but we need to accept it with grace. I never thought it would upset me so, but I'm trying to cope and it's all the lovely comments I get that make me able to go on. Just this evening, I got another such boost when a family friend who is visiting my brother from abroad said, "Hello, Pudding" when he saw me! What a delightful comment! :) I'm, sweet, jiggly, and yummy! ;) It's all attitude...and I got plenty of THAT!
Copyright © Eileen Manassian
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
Astride they clamp and drain
Lips, that part as seas once
Guiding the yearning with
Plump and moist, they quench
Voices singing their grateful
My blood flows red, and rich,
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
Woman, is my name.
Woman, I am the one.
Woman, I am the only one.
Woman, the I am.
Copyright © Brenda Atry
I am the daughter of eve ,with the strength to create or destroy the world,but you nasty people
Judge and say me as a simple weak being.
Was born to be beautiful being but you made me suffer my whole life.
During childhood,I loved playing with dolls and with friends,
But you wanted me to do the chores so brother can enjoy.
He enjoyed all the pleasures and had all the fun,while I was in the
Hot sun,doing the work like a nun.
I worked like a donkey,but he had the turkey.
As he was the son, and I was none.
He had to read the books and I had the food to cook.
And there came a new man in life ,for whom I was wife.
He earned money and I was honey.
he had the authority and I was in poverty.
He was the ruler and I was the bearer.
All I wanted was the love ,but he gave me the stove.
The days passed and the seasons changed,but my life hadn’t.
Designation changed from wife to mother,nursing all the time .
Was split into two by husband and kids,but the heart always
Desired something else.
Kids grew and flew to new destinations.
the heart does crave and yearn for love as it is stupid,as it doesn’t
have mind to think,and it is there only to feel.
I want to learn, read ,play and relive those moments which were
Mine but were snatched away as I was a girl.
But it is us, who make this world beautiful,peaceful and happy.
We are mothers, daughters, sisters above all we are human beings.
Treat us like fellow humans but not like slaves,then you will see
The more beauty of the world.
Copyright © kenisha shines
Man's other half
Sharing to build a life
Love and patience is in your blood
Copyright © Ernesto P. Santiago
Power with struggle
continuing to keep faith
clinging on to hope..
Copyright © lashawn white
Love is all I have to give.
Gentle describes my touch.
I will give you all that I have.
Though, I will never ask for much.
Peace is what I bring to your mind.
Hope is what I bring to your soul.
The words that I speak are poetic.
My words are worth more than gold.
God will bring us together.
Our bond will never be undone.
I will be there to help fight your battles;
Though the war may not have yet been won.
I have always been there for you.
Sometimes you let me pass you by.
I will still do all I can to make you happy.
I will console you when you need to cry.
You sometimes look me over.
Though, I will be who you turn to in the end.
I have come to this world in many forms.
I have been your mother, your sister, your friend.
So take this time to acknowledge me.
Give me the recognition I am due.
I am the embodiment of a woman.
A woman that has always been true.
Do not take my love for granted.
Do not toss me aside like a jacket that is worn.
Many of you have heard the saying;
“There is nothing like a woman scorned”.
My heart is a precious gift.
Do not give me pleasure, and then give me pain.
Do not disrespect my body.
Do not take my name in vain.
Please remember who I am.
Acknowledge who I will be in the end.
Know that someday with or without you.
I will be someone’s mother, sister or friend.
Copyright © Derrick Richardson
A wedding is about the bride and groom
So why does everyone jump to assume
That they're opinions means the bible
It's mothers and daughters that create this vicious cycle
Moms want to throw their daughter the best day ever
They're reluctant to think their dreams aren't the brides endeavor
Its one day in life
With all strings attached
My energy sure feels the bite
No matter how hard you try,
People flake or become insane
You begin to wonder, why?
Then Eloping doesn't sound so mad
All that matters is the bride walks down the isle with the dad
The groom takes her hand
A strong love is witnessed and spread across the land.
Daughters keep your head and will strong
It's about you and the groom,
That's where the power belongs
Don't let other steal your focus
The moment you say “no”
Treasured friendships may become bogus
Everyone else, keep your mouth shut
Wish there was a nicer way to say this,
I'll just be blunt
Doesn't matter what you think or do
For once in your life,
This day isn't about you!
Copyright © Sharon Morken
I laugh as I think of it now, the dire warnings of hell
Nothing could scare me it didn’t matter, on this teaching I never did dwell.
I wondered why one dark night, again begging for sleep.
No fear of death of dying no foolish promises to keep.
It was then I found the answer as I slipped down through the floor
Could this be a dream or am I now no more.
Has death come upon me, I feel the air exude from my chest
Through eons of time yet seconds, maybe days or years at best.
Before me an evil thing but there are no brimstone and flames
“Now we will see this hell you mocked and you will know my name.
You never flinched about the hell threat but you are now here
Not only that I am your father and now you will know real fear.”
He breathed in deep; my skin scorched, it left my body in one piece
The agonies, I must be dead my skin floating in front just like a fleece
My muscles sinews and skeleton were all that I now had
“I thought you were my father I screamed you can’t treat me this bad.”
A thousand legions of devils all came round mocking me
Each breath they turned my way seemed to rip parts off of me
“You will learn to master them but until then you have to pay
You start at the bottom in this work.” then the hounds of hell did bay.
“To inflict the tortures required to give me the satisfaction
You must first suffer them all, that is my attraction.
When you have suffered them all you will know what to do
My work will be in your hands this is my legacy to you.”
“But how can you be my father?” I screamed as the hell hounds tore at me
“My mother was the sweetest woman on earth and all around could see.”
“Ha! I am the devil why would I want a whore,
They are already down here; it was sweetness I searched for.”
“Your mother scorned me, she did not believe in all the hellish games I play
So I showed her my powers and you are with me from this day.
You should have listened to the teachers teaching of my home called hell.”
He waved his finger at me and the screams I could not quell.
Now I wish I had listened and taken an earthly fear
It could have made a difference, I may not now be here.
I take delight in dismembering and gouging out the eyes
Flaying the skin off the ungodly, yet I do it for a prize.
One day I will rule this place then my turn will come
I’ll leave this underworld one day and do what my father has done
I’ll take a woman for my wife the sweetest there ever walked
And pass on my inheritance to the offspring that hell balked.
Copyright © Mandy Tams The Golden Girl
As death creeps out of the darkness,
A mother becomes the rope in a (Tug of war.)
A child reaches to help its’ mother in her weakness,
And stares death in the eye with abhor.
The rope falls limp in sure defeat,
Yet the child pulls on the strength of heart.
Against the evilness and deceit,
Fighting with the will to not be apart.
The hooks of death on weary knees,
Shackling the arms, exposing vulnerability.
Screaming and crying the words of “please”
The mother rests with peace and tranquility.
A child left to battle life’s groans,
Preparing for the encounter and all its’ lour.
For one day she will meet Mr. Bones,
And she’ll be the rope in her child’s (Tug of war.)
Inspired by Brian’s Picture Poem’s Contest
Käthe Kollwitz, Death and the Woman (Tod und Frau), lithograph, 1910.
Copyright © Abe Lopez
the season I turned eleven
was the season that I died
there'd been blood betrayal and famine
and I thought I had survived
my neighbor killed my kitten
and for that I could not cry
my mother went to handle it
told me to stay inside
i sat poised in an armchair
trying to calm my mother down
while I could feel nothing
we knew she'd made him drown
the woman was a laundress
washed other people's clothes
didn't like the stink of pig sties
it offended her frail nose
the wash-board on the right side
where the pigs did have their homes
was the one she always gave me
like the left one was her own.
only when a pig was hanging
would she demand to trade
i'd wash next to a hog's corpse
a choice could not be made.
then one day I got angry
and I dared to move her clothes
i moved them to the right side
as the rage inside me rose
the woman tapped my window
and said your cat is dead
it was two days before Christmas
she roused me from my bed
there was display of feeling
tears could not be be shed
gray fades to black
hello sadness my old friend
Copyright © Lucrezia Blanche Aguilar
A seed was kept, by a pretty woman, in her pocket
As she goes, up and down the stairs, with a bucket
For nine long months, she has it, inside her pocket
Till she finally lost her strength to carry the bucket
When the seed popped up, from her maiden pocket
She promised herself, not to let it grow, in a bucket
Though, there is still great pain, in her worn pocket
She continues, even she’s weak, to carry the bucket
To the man of her life, she entrusted him her pocket
Till she went broke, nothing left, but just her bucket
Worst, the conman planted a seed, inside her pocket
He left her, when she has nothing, but only a bucket
Times has passed, the woman has gained her pocket
Because of a strong-willed mind, to carry the bucket
She has a fine young man, the seed, from her pocket
He is matured and never felt ashamed, of her bucket
When the beloved Romeo learned, of her full pocket
He returned with promises, of help, to fill the bucket
Too late, his own seed, he had planted, in her pocket
Will not accept him, for leaving them, with a bucket
No more love for the man, who likes only her pocket
Nor, for the man, who left them, because of a bucket
Will you pity the man, who has but an empty pocket?
Will you pity a woman, who carries her own bucket?
Will you hate me, if, I wish not to share my pocket?
Will you love me, if, I leave you with only a bucket?
Never rush to a person, who minds only your pocket
Nor, love a person, who has no guts to hold a bucket
For it is not so easy to be a seed, in an empty pocket
Nor easy to witness a mother carries a loaded bucket
She was a pretty woman, who once had a rich pocket
Thou abandoned she gave her son a life, not a bucket
Copyright © Ernesto P. Santiago
I I I
I Not Afraid
F At All
L Be Free
w m Curviest
i a Thing you’ve
l k Ever Seen
d e Self-Esteem
s Is higher than
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
I To defeat
L Sexual Inequalities
D Worthy of stealing
Any man’s fancy
[Dedicated to the Women, the strong, the brave, the merciful]
[The Mothers, the Daughters, the Wives]
[ the women who make up our lives]
Copyright © Bella Cardenas
Can I maintain this life
Without begging Christ
To save me
From the life he gave me
Can I walk to the plot
To where lays my father death spot
And stand over his grave
His life is with me acknowledgement
I’m is daughter but I wasn’t with him his last dying days
Tears seem to not fall from my eyes
Because I know emotion will not grow him back
And the last words that utter from my mouth will be with me until the day that I’m
dead they are now un-depart able bitter words that has now been said
They say Gods give you nothing you can’t bare
Trying time he’s given me trying times is in me
I dream of some better days
As a young child proven educate with good grades
Wanted to be a woman at a young age
Started working on my life
Tried to blackout every thing in my life that went wrong
Even as a minor I promise god that all my struggling was going to make me
But lost in the mine set that I had no one to carry with me
Turn my back on the people that had given me life
Told them I didn’t need them so forget their advice
I broke them down to the same feeling that rooted bitterness
Spoke for me took hostage over my pride
But each heart beat I wanted I wanted them to reach for me because all I wanted
was to be their child
They say Gods give you nothing you can’t bare
Trying times he’s given me trying times is in me
Fast I was moving
Tried I was getting
Still I wasn’t not going to stop
Because I will never give up
I instill in myself as long as I don’t misused my body and educate my mine
There was nothing that could harm me Nothing
Suddenly everything that I was reaching for turn around and ran from me
And for the first time in my life I wanted good to save me
I barely stop myself from falling to my knees begging him to free me
For now I could see
My daddy deceased
My mother sickly
And soon I will be a woman
For I will be no ones child
I feel as if I’m not ready
They say Gods give you nothing you cant bare
Trying time he’s given me trying times is in me
Copyright © Lartoria Brown
A figure in darkness
Cradleing a small package
Trots up the stony ridge of stairs
In the night clouds cover the horizon
No stars can be seen from the gloomy street
A single lantern is lit and the only light
A woman with the hood drawn above her head
Lays a child upon the doorstep of a lonely family
She touches her fingers to her mouth
Then to the child's forehead
A tear filled with happy memories
Lands upon the baby's hand
With one last look
The woman disappears into darkness
As swiftly as she appeared
And the baby gave a cry of sadness
Then all became silent
Copyright © Airisha Jackson
(W)- A real woman knows that the wages of sin is death so she is not concerned about the wages of a real man, because money comes and goes like day and night; but true love comes just every blue moon. A real woman isn't loud and doesn't have to be the center of attention. Money is a gold-diggers virtue, while patience is a real woman’s virtue. A real woman is always wary of the image she displays to the world because she knows her children are watching her every move. A real woman’s wisdom comes from the teachings of her elders and the experiences and hardships life brings. A real woman is the wings that help a broken man learn to fly again. When you become the object of a real woman’s affection, winning is the only option.
(O)- A real woman’s main obligation is to better herself, before she attempts to become someone’s better half. A real woman is very obliged with all that God has blessed her with. When a man takes a real woman for granted, she makes up her mind to put him away into oblivion. A real woman is use to jumping hurdles because overcoming obstacles in life keeps her on the right track. A real woman doesn't spend her time worrying if failure is around the corner, because she occupies her freedom chasing her dreams in her most comfortable running shoes. A real woman is a hopeless romantic ready to be wooed with an odyssey of love with a real man by her side.
(M)- A real woman’s presence is magnanimous and captures attention because of the poised and elegant stature of her classy nature. A real woman is like the magnet of ecstasy. All women don't attend college or hold prestigious employment, but for many being the Valedictorian of mothers everywhere is the major of their lives. A real woman respects the art of marriage and believes in monogamy. A real woman’s life is the motion picture of sophistication. The mythology of a woman began within a man’s ribs and ends in the beat of his heart.
(A)- A real woman sticks to her man like glue and never abandons his side. A real woman has the ability to do anything a man can. A real woman has the power to fill the abyss of a man’s pains with joy. A real woman prays with her other half because faith is the key of remaining on one accord. A real woman will amaze you with the way she adapts to changes in her ambiance. A real woman is the architect of her own destiny.
(N) A real woman needs a man to understand and love her for everything she is and for everything she is not because a good support system is a leading factor in longevity within relationships. A real woman is the nexus between love and happiness. When you converse with a real woman you will realize that she is nimble with her every response. No man can ignore the nymph of a real woman, because it is in her D.N.A to be notable.
Copyright © Tay Reid
The rose bud is small and the smell is so sweet
And no other flower in the garden quite so unique
When the petals unfold it makes a beautiful rose
and the fragrance of that flower fills the air
Take the thorns from that beautiful rose
and the beauty can no longer to be found
When the morning dew falls softly on the rose
it's like a tear on a woman's face when she cries
And when a woman's pride is taken away
like the rose her beauty is faded and gone
So never make a woman cry and men be very aware
her beauty may be hidden but the thorn is still there
Copyright © Oma Bennett
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
Copyright © Gideon Foli
A strong woman doesn’t have to have the body that only society wants.
A strong woman doesn’t have to run a marathon.
A strong woman doesn’t have to wear a size zero.
A strong woman doesn’t have to have marvelous muscular masculine legs.
A strong woman doesn’t have to bike up a mountain.
A strong woman doesn’t have to work out for hours to make her tough.
A strong woman has the look of confidence written across her face.
A strong woman still stands tall when she is full of sorrow.
A strong woman does everything at a steady pace.
A strong woman won’t be afraid.
A strong woman keeps her head held high.
A strong wouldn’t care about what she weighed.
A strong woman never gives up.
A strong woman through hard times.
A strong woman is always tough.
Working long hours to make money,
She still makes time to ask,
“How was your day, honey?”
Instead of having a tall, strong stance,
She goes crazy
And she does the Carlton Dance.
She will turn your frown
She will always be there to help you-
For everything you go through.
She will have that shoulder to cry on.
Always- dusk until dawn.
She gives you the clothes on your back.
She gives you the food in your stomach.
She gives you the shelter above your head.
Even when she’s hanging by a thread.
You may say your super-hero is Spiderman…
But my hero is my mom…
Because my mom is a strong woman.
Copyright © Kimber James
They see strengths
Not the limitations
These are people who will make you proud of yourself
They will tell you why you’re special
Trust you to the point you have to answer their expectations
They make you better than you normally are
You can be proud of yourself
They respect you
For what you’ve done
Where you’ve come from
They see what you’ve experienced something real
Respect you for your courage
They live by their rules
They do not expect you to follow theirs
They are at peace to themselves
They are not proving anything to you
They are good listeners
Sincere in their interest in you
You feel important
They are available for honest
Makes you want to share yourself
Copyright © Jacqueline R. Mendoza
Yeah true she might not be flesh of my flesh or a product of my seed, i may not have carried her in my womb for 9 months but that don't mean I didn't succeed. because u will never be more of a mother than I've proven to be. U will never fill my shoes or be able to
Walk the path that I lead. She means more to me then u ever would she will be more of a woman then u ever could. Although we will never have the same blood run through our veins or the same letters spell out our last name, that doesnt make me any less relevant, matter fact just the opposite because that makes me even more prevalent. The fact that I could take on this child with nothing handed to me but a barely empty baby bag but i did it all not for u but because I could never deny a childs innocence because of your stupidness, or neglect a childs needs, the needs that u never could even see. She too nieve to have been brought up any other way then protected and loved and i refused to have her stay wit u and suffer because u didn't have your head right too preoccupied with u and your loser mans life that u didn't appreciate the gift that god gave u in order to change, u threw away the only life line that could ever save your name. If you had done right by her u could of claimed that title but because the worlds drugs and games got the best of u, u will never be entitled. u will never have any rights u will never hurt this child. Because I would die before Id ever let your influence turn her in to a abuser a loser a liar, before she will ever be a whore a freak before u will ever bring her into a world of prostitution and cheats she will never follow in your steps and be so lazy, so your words on me as a person will never faze me cuz I know what I've done I've seen what she came from and I guareentee her life will be a clean one. You will have no part in having her follow in your footsteps by being used and abused by the same type of worthless men that you've fall victim to. Cuz u chose to repeatedly lay on your back and give all the power to a man, rather then have a spine that was worthy to defend. She will never succumb to the same objects of your defeat. She is worthy of so much more than u ever will be. And that's only because she learned how to be a woman from me! U will never be worthy of calling yourself a mother to the smart independent and strong woman, that she will some day grow to be because I take responsibility for that and I only have wishes that she is not like....but yet better than even me. That she never have any needs that she'd have to rely on any one else for, she will never live off the system in order to pay her bills because she will be a well developed perfectly capable and functioning woman living by her own means making her own rules. Cuz I made it all possible I've given her the tools to be able to go out in the world and succeed and never be used, know that she will surpass every bad decision u chose to do. Because after all her real mama didn't raise no fool!
Copyright © Tiana Tillman
I do not know?
someone always told me this with tears in her eyes...
(for Lata Sethi's late-mother, who was my mother’s ‘sister’ and who took us all into her heart, and for Lata and Ravi Sethi of Defence Colony, New Delhi)
a wife left South Africa in the 1960’s to join her husband
who was in exile at the time...
in 1970 the husband was sent by the African National Congress to India to be its representative there...
the husband and wife spent two years in Bombay...
one afternoon the husband fell and broke his leg...
the wife knocked on their neighbour’s door, in an apartment complex in Bombay
the neighbour was an old Punjabi lady...
the wife asked the neighbour for a doctor to see to the injured husband...
a Parsi ‘Bone-Setter’ was promptly summoned...
the husband still recalls his anxiety of seeing ‘Bone-Setter’ written on the Parsi gentleman’s bag...
by the way, the ‘Bone-Setter’ worked his ancient craft and surprisingly for the husband, his broken leg healed quite soon...
but still on that day, while the ‘Bone-Setter’ was seeing to the husband...
the wife and the old Punjabi lady from next door got to talking about this and that and where these new Indian-looking wife and husband were from as their accents were clearly not local...
the wife told the elderly Punjabi lady that the husband worked for the African National Congress of South Africa and had left to serve the ANC from exile...
and that they had left their two children behind in South Africa and that they were now essentially political refugees...
the Punjabi lady broke down and wept uncontrollably...
she told the foreign woman that she too had had to leave her home in Lahore in 1947 and flee to India with only the clothes on her back when the partition of the subcontinent took place and Pakistan was formed and at a time when Hindus from Pakistan fled to India and vice versa...
the Punjabi lady then asked the foreign woman her name...
‘Zubeida’, but you can call me ‘Zubie’...
the Punjabi woman hugged Zubie some more, and the two women, seperated by age and geography, wept, sharing a shared pain...
the Punjabi woman told Zubie that she was her ‘sister’ from that day on, and that she felt that pain of exile and forced migration and what being a refugee felt like...
Zubie and her husband Mosie became the closest of friends with the Hindu Punjabi neighbours who were kicked out of Pakistan by Muslims...
then came the time for Mosie and Zubie to leave for Delhi where the African National Congress office was based...
the elderly Punjabi lady and Mosie and Zubie said their goodbyes...
a year or two later, the elderly Punjabi lady’s daughter Lata married Ravi Sethi and the couple moved to Delhi...
the elderly Punjabi lady called Zubie and told her that her daughter was coming to Delhi to live and that she had told Lata, her daughter that she had a ‘sister’ in Delhi...
Lata and Ravi Sethi then moved to Delhi...
This was in the mid-1970’s...
Lata and Zubie became the closest of friends and that bond stayed true, and stays true till today, though Zubie is no more, and the elderly Punjabi lady is no more...
the son and the husband still have a bond with Lata and Ravi Sethi...
a bond that was forged between Hindu and Muslim and between two continents across the barriers of creed and time...
a bond strong and resilient, forged by the pain and trauma of a shared experience...
and that is why, and I shall never stop believing this, that hope shines still, for with all the talk of this and of that, and of that and of this, there will always be a simple woman, somewhere, anywhere, who would take the ‘other’ in as a sister, a fellow human...
and that is why there will always be hope...
hope in the midst of this and of that and of that and of this...
(for Lata Sethi's late-mother, who was my mother’s ‘sister’ and who took us all into her heart, and for Lata and Ravi Sethi of Defence Colony, New Delhi)
Copyright © Scribbler Of Verses
As we have all come to know and accept
That within certain parameters we find ourselves trapped
It’s either you’re stuck with wearing pants to rule and impress
Or socially considered inferior and wearing a dress
Well, I for one, fortunately belong to the latter
However, at the excruciating sensation of being perpetually overlooked, I shudder
For I know my worth exceeds that of just another fine lady
A woman who ignores harsh Reality and hides behind a smile, looking dandy
A conformist, being looked down on by what is called a man
So from this awkward position of helplessness, to remove myself without delay is my plan
This feeling of constantly being emotionally and socially dormant
Exhausts me – utterly drains my energy, to be used as a dusty doormat
Then carelessly, I am cast into a sea of vulnerability
Viewed by society as a mere object of instability
I, being of greater value, will remove myself from behind Male’s shadow
For I refuse, the social norm of this world, to follow
Even though seen as nothing, for myself I have respect
And to the world, my greatest strengths I shall reflect
Because I possess rare beauty that goes deeper than the skin
So onto my strengths, I shall trustingly lean
Where man exhibits his pompous ways I humbly outshine
For I am a woman of worth and that, the beauty in me shall always define
As a woman, I am made perfect in my weakness
For I thrive, where man tries his best to impress
Copyright © AJ Lekobane
She is strong but also weak
with that beautiful smile
so graceful and meek
Her touch is soft
and her words ever so sweet
Never a dull moment
always bright and sometimes lenient
with a positive outlook
even when it's clearly out of the books
She wipes the tears, and forces the smiles
touches the heart
and never you dare cross her child
Mother, Mama, Mom, Mommy
the many names that she goes by
All quite fitting for the warrior inside
with the love giving and super healing ways
she never makes a mistake
Even when you thought she was wrong
give it a day and you'll realize exactly what she was trying to say all along ( you soon realize she was right all along)
She is the all knowing, all loving, super talented and magical gift from the God above
Copyright © Tora Simpson
To the woman who loved and raised me
To her who brought meaning of life at home
A queen who reigned supreme without a crown
She cared and valued mine life as her own
Willing to give up her life for mine sake
For nine moons her life was at stake
She was the angel who sang and smiled for me
She told me the sweetest and most beautiful words
That I will ever hear
She raised me without fear
She taught me to speak and listen
She showed me how to bow and pray
Her arms were always open whenever I needed a hug
She understood when I needed a friend
Her strength and loves remains even today guiding me
Lastly she gave me wings to fly
Copyright © bulinya martins
(FOR MY IRISH GODMOTHER WHOM MOST OF WHO I AM IS A REFLECTION OF THE GREAT WOMAN SHE IS!)
"Am proud of you baby!"
At my best moments
and lowest point
outstanding or just okey
mama always tell me am the best.
Often she reminds me the mountains
i have moved
the much i have achieved
how bright my star shines
how far am yet to travel....
"You are amazing my child!"
With immense joy and gratitude
i have come to realize
to mama i am never inadequate.
Each day she teach me
being a mother is not just a role
It is a full time duty and dedication
a pledge of guardian,guidance
An intimate function of care and solace
A lifetime commitment!
"Am here for you baby!"
My prayer to Allah
to grant me the same strength
to be as much to my unborn daughter Mia
as my Irish Godmother is to me.
A role model
And human enough...!!!
"You are the blessing in my life!"
"I love you my daughter!"
I love you too much too Mum,so much, i don't know who i would be without you!!!
Copyright © PENINNAH NGANGA
The gracious woman grows through her own self-reflection
Everything she goes through in life is a lesson
Her beauty is of essence such as her presence
Full of integrity, compassion, and optimistic guessing
The courage that she brings
Screams a strong woman destined
With the passion of a soldier at war
She is honorable, respectful, worthy and more
Qualities that must be adored
Copyright © CeAsia White
Dear Mother of all
Sweetest mother of all Time
Queen of the world of women
You never aborted me
You raise me with your hard earn
You teach me the way of the righteous
You Bless me with the blessing of your mouth
Who will I praise if not you
Who will I believe if not you
Who will I trust if not you
You that carry me for nine months
You put me to bed on the 17th Day of the Sixth Month of the Glorious Year
You breast feed me till I am fit for the race
You put together your earning for my first birthday
You work under the sun and the rain just for me to be among equals
I understand it is not easy in this part of the world
Yet you gave me a reason to live
And even though I heard I use to be stubborn when I a little kid
Yet your love for me never ceased
Memories fade me not of my past failure
You hold me close to you and whisper to my ear saying
"Foluso The sun still shine, you can still make it"
No wonder I am reaching my goals now because your Sweet words still live in me
Words are not enough to express how I feel
But I have to tell you this Sweet mother
Ain’t a woman alive that can take my mama’s place
Copyright © Foluso Fapohunda