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Narrative Women Poems | Narrative Poems About Women

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

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Details | Narrative | |

Will You Tie My Shoes When I Grow Old

You were beautiful, 
my tiny child, 
wrapped tightly in my arms, 
close to my heart.
I listened to you breathing.
I counted your fingers
and your toes.
Helpless, 
you cried out to me
and I loved you
with every ounce of my soul.

Will you hear me
when I cry out? 
Will you hold me close
as I held you then? 

I remember the day
You took your first step.
There was no stopping you.
Your feet gave you freedom
to explore the world
like never before
but danger lurked.
I opened those doors anyway, 
cautiously, 
and introduced
you to the world.
Where will you be
when my legs
no longer run? 
no longer work? 
Will you realize
that I love
freedom too? 

I laugh
about that day
you first tied your shoe.
We tried and tried
to get that rabbit
in that hole
and you finally did it.
You pointed your toes
for everyone to see
how proud you were.

I am proud too, 
of my writing
and my drawing, 
of my needlework
and my cooking.
But my hands are beginning to ache
and my fingers will not bend.
I will lose the things
that make me proud
except for you.
Hopefully not you.
Will you let me
brag on you? 
Even tell wild stories
that are a bit beyond the truth? 
Will you be proud of me too? 

I waved good-bye
that morning when you left
on that large, yellow bus.
I was so scared.
I know you were too.
You waved at me bravely
through the dusty window
but I saw the water
forming in your eyes.
You came home, however, 
full of pride and joy.
You sang the alphabet song
and got most of it right.
You practiced for hours
until you could sing it
even in your sleep.

But 
I'm afraid.
I forgot
whether I took
my pills today or not.
I forgot
if I told this story before.
I even forgot once
who you were
and it terrified me.
My mind
is my treasure
the only thing I have left, 
and I heard you make
fun of me
for not remembering
that I gave you the
same gift as last year.
Will you love me
when I no longer
know who I am? 

You came home blushing
from the glow of
your first kiss.
Your first love, 
the one you thought was real.
You talked about him non-stop.
You changed for him. You gave.
But he left you anyway
for a blue-eyed girl
and I held you
while you cried for him.

I too have a
broken heart.
The love of my life
left me after
fifty-six years.
He left me here
to live life on my own
while he moved on
to another realm
And I cry for him too.
I long for his shoulder
and strong embrace.
I feel betrayed
because he and I
made a deal
that we would never
leave the other alone.
Yet I am alone
sitting in an echoing house
with no hands to hold.

You welcomed her home today- 
your tiny baby girl.
She has your eyes
and possibly your toes.
I see you counting them
as they roll me
into the room.
You finally came
to visit.
It has been a while.

You look up at me
with tears in your eyes
and ask
almost desperately, 

"Will she tie my
shoes
when I get old? "


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WALK A MILE IN HER SHOES

I tried to walk a mile in her shoes, 
fit my toes harder to feel her pride. 
I wasn't ready for what I've found. 
A wounded soul, a bleeding heart.

I tried to walk gorgeously in her shoes. 
And feel ashamed to witness those bruises. 
She concealed underneath her clothes, 
A misery of being abused and used. 

Along the road she speaks softly, 
Then her tears started to fall. 
A courage she used to grasp, 
to tell a story never been told. 

At the end of our journey I came to know, 
this pair of shoes I tried to own, 
was broken once in empty room. 
No hands to care, no one gives hope. 

I gave my best to polish once more, 
give it a glance like 'twas before. 
Although it's hard and takes some time. 
Soon each piece will be formed. 

Now, I see an image of a woman. 
Standing glamorously in her shoes. 
With pride and honor she firmly holds, 
A new beginning, miles to walk.  
 


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Wild Flower

Wild Flower
By Nate Spears
Published 2013 In Death Of A Rose by Nate Spears
 
Rescue this sunflower
It's capable of being a ray of light
Nurture it, value it, and love it
Its petals are more delicate than they appear in sight
 
 A wild flower it is; but it displays beauty
The facts of its species remain unknown
Its fight to reach its true potential is admired
It’ birth to existence is undetermined
 It’s roots shows trauma
Its presentation brings hesitates to potential caregivers
No one's prepared to take a chance
This flower is destined to win
 
All earthly roots sprout from above
At some point in a life’s span; we could use a kiss or hug
 He who refuses to display any element of the wild
Is merely real
An artificial representation of life
Stuck in Styrofoam surrounded by fake moss and dust
No breath, no soul, non-existence
A human being choked from an outer dimension.
Rescue this wild flower with love.


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Burger Joint

Lucy and Matilda were on the job at the burger joint.
Bad boy Buzz Muldoon rushed in brandishing a gun.
Matilda kicked the would-be robber square in his junk.
Lucy bashed his head in with a badass ball-peen hammer.
The two hard working ladies continued cleaning up the joint.
They chunked Muldoon in the dumpster with the rest of the trash.
Lucy and Matilda opened the establishment without missing a beat.
It was just another typical day right here in the big bad city.
To be successful entrepreneurs in this old turbulent world,
you have to grow a pair of big brass gnarly ones, be you male or female.


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A Woman's Worth

A Woman’s Worth
By Nate Spears


Her purpose in this world is hurting
She’s never been a designed of perfect
But she is a mom, so she’s super
She works
She cleans
Then roll up her sleeves ; and
Take care of the kids; and
The house 
Making it a home
For a beautiful family to roam
Building wonderful memories
Becoming a woman of worth
Keeping her faith through Christ
Keeping her pace through health
Keeping her sanity through managing
This is a woman’s worth 
I’m giving you


Despite of all the stress 
She receives her family with open arms
Through all the mess
She’s a fantastic mom
A wonderful woman 
Deserving a round of applause
Plus a standing ovation
For always being an American sensation
That held this continent down since day one
Since the Plymouth Rock landed on us
Thank you for her giving
Thank you for her living
Thank you for her children
This is ,
A woman’s worth.


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She

If she makes the mistake
Of loving him, he will make her
Suffer terribly for her utter lack of taste
And when he leaves her
After she had undergone
The great pain of rejection
She will find another HIM
For there is no end to the
Foolishness of a woman`s heart


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Eliza's Escape

 from Uncle Tom's Cabin  (See notes for story background)

The long night was not long enough; 
The new master and his hired men
Soon will come; the river rages,
The water glistens in the morning sun. 
The boat is tethered at the other side,
but water beats against the wharf
And ice blocks bob as if on ocean tide.

The child sleeps. I can but wait,
For merchants traveling to and fro
Will need to reach Kentucky’s shore;
I dare not rest when freedom is so close.
But hark! The men are in the street;
I fear one saw me in the window—
I hear the pound of booted feet.

Lord, help me, they will not take my only babe;
With the river, I’ll take my chance—
No thought. Ice bobs and sinks beneath the waves,
I leap without a backward glance.
The ice seems not so slippery
I leap and leap and leap again
God gives me purchase—we will be free!

The last frozen block sinks beneath 
My numbéd feet. I toss my child to the ground
And lunge—gripping grass midst mud and sleet,
The river roars behind, a deafening sound.
 But o’er my head—an open hand,
A heav’n sent soul, my babe held in his arms—
A chance at freedom in an angry land.


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Sandalwood Girl

They are playing that song again,
The one that always reminds me of you,
remembered from some dim region of my past.

The radio weaves the lyrics
like sandalwood incense curling through the air.

       "All the leaves are brown, and the sky is grey
        I've been for a walk ....On a winter's day"

There is a picture I've kept, that wrestles with my envy
You at twenty-one, wild and beautiful in a way
I had never been

I  only knew you then, as that hippie girl that lived next door for awhile 
Playing a flute, tambourine, and your guitar... 
A gypsy skirt, a peasant look that took one's breath
A frizz of strawberry blonde hair that streamed thick of ribbons 
and the scent of sandalwood, that floated into my yard
from your wide-opened windows
as I hung bleached-white sheets on a clothesline

I had often wished I were you, ..... flitting about, barefoot in the morning sun
But, I was teaching my toddler to tie his shoes
Both of us twenty-one,.... on two sides of a cedar fence...
a thousand light years apart

       "All the leaves are brown, and the sky is blue
        I've been for a walk......on this autumn day
        and wonder what became
        of you" 




_____________________________________________________
9/18/13 By Carrie Richards


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Tale: Mary Magdalene

Behold, one day was a woman who was found in possession of many men. Good men, enamored by some other concubines and some married. And in the year 30 BC the law was harsh and severe. And the woman was taken to a prophet who was in the region to be tried and sentenced to stoning.

The wise heard all the witnesses, the men who were involved with this woman claimed they were attracted by its impurity and its spells, the wives of men who lay with Magdalene really wanted it to be stoned.

Then the sage asked: where is the adulteress? And all pointed to the ground, with stones in hand ready for stoning, toward the woman who was in tears. And again the sage asked where the adulteration? And all again pointed to the woman who was on the ground crying.

His tears fell at the feet of the thinker who stopped for a moment and said to the crowd:

"When each of you pledged to love each other as a sign of respect for the Creator at least stopped to reflect on the consequences that the adulteration of thought would lead to their own destruction teaching?

What did this woman beyond just love?

I see in their faces adulterated by the expression of a thought that leads to hatred and seeks the destruction of the next as to what gushes misunderstanding.

Who really had adulterated the divine purpose? One that gave the body a sign of love for others or those who changed their initial purpose in interacting with the creator?

Then so be pronounced the sentence. He who does not have it in your face adulterated the true purpose of love that judge this woman for the crimes that have been allocated to it, ... "

And one by one all left without even a stone was thrown.

Author: Max Diniz Cruzeiro
LenderBook Company

How would the master: "Love one another as I have loved you"; "Love God above all things and your neighbor as yourself"


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Why Can't I Be Young, Rich and Thin

That answer to that is painfully simple: I’m a disabled, thirty-something individual with compromised mobility…and I’m a lazy S.O.B...

But, oh, how I fantasize! And loath am I to torture myself by looking at all the exquisite, fabulous fashion creations by Versace, Comme Des Garcons, Missoni and Vivienne Westwood; elegant creations I will never be able to wear, let alone afford. Though I enjoy being a man and would have it no other way, I envy women and sometimes wish I was one, just so I could wear a Versace gown, even if it were just to take out the trash.

I worship fashion and models; they are my demigods. They embody all that is outwardly beautiful. I don’t mind the shallowness of it. I wish I was Coco Rocha, Naomi Campbell, Janice Dickinson, Linda Evangelista, Tyra Banks, Milla Jovovich, all rolled into one. I wish I could strut and stomp the catwalk; to pound the runway in some outrageous creation by Rei Kawakubo. To jet-set to Paris, Milan, Tokyo, London…! I would die and go to fashion heaven, and see Gianni, and I would be his Muse. Poor, Gianni; why did that bastard kill you? Genius was lost that day and fashion has since suffered in your absence.

I wish I was as skillful with sewing as I am with words; since I’ll never be a model, I’d at least like to design clothes that would echo my influences. A mesh of the sex of Versace, the elegance of Missoni, the insane artistic destruction and anti-fashion of Comme des Garcons and the hipness of Vivienne Westwood; yes, that would be my style, as my poetry echoes Poe, Shelley, Keats and Dickinson. 

But, alas and alas again! For these are all but mere dreams and fantasies that shall never be fulfilled! But a gay boy can dream, can’t he?


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Rescue Squad 16

82571 lima echo alfa juliet please respond.82571 lima echo alfa juliet are you there?
This is Harry who's this? Its Tom Mansfield. Tom you realize its 11:30 P.M. Sorry we have 5 climbers missing on the north side of Mooseluck and there has been an avalanche in
 that area. Yea I thought I heard it earlier. I'm on my way up to Your place now Tom do you have an extra battery pack for the lamp mine's pretty low. Yep. I have 
Billy Williams with me, You have extra gear for him. Yep. I'll put the coffee on What's your ETA? 20 minutes. This is 82571 lima echo alfa juliet signing off.
  I'll never understand why these Dartmouth students have to mountain climb on the coldest day of the year, in a storm. Ok snowshoes, therma wraps, lamps, goggles and a map.Waiting for what seems like Hours I hear the bronco finally.
  Tom, Billy I was just going to bed when YOU called, What do we have? Four men and a women Headed up Demon's Bluff 10 a.m. this morning. A women they're usually more level headed than men. According to the Information we have they are all seasoned vets at rock climbing  In the winter time?? They were suppose to be back by 4P.M. 4pm why are we just hearing about it now. Gregg Tilman was the co-ordinator of a college dance, when he didn't show up to MC the dance we got called. It gets worst the only other name we have is his girlfriend, Elizabeth Townsend. I think it's going to be a long night Tom. Absorb the heat from the wood stove finish your coffee and dress warm
                                                           To be Cont.


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Hostile Times II

Hostile Times II
By Nate Spears
	

Busted love is my Crystal Ball's fortune
My heart hurts in a torturing way
Nothing ever works in my favor
Standing still 
I lower my head and pray 
Confessing to God 
All I have to give

A 16 year old rebellious daughter
A 13 year old son that’s dead
My father is in prison; so is the one of my two kids
Is this really a way of living?
I didn’t have a choice from the days beginning
Anything different
Would have a given me a chance
at living

Walls of barriers bearing on us 
On this earth we stand
Refusing to let go of this curse
If no bill is signed by Congress
My unemployment runs out next Thursday 
Now I contemplate what’s next?
Sex dollars or Creflo's Dollars?
Be an honest woman; or
Be a fool that’s starving?
When pushed to the limit
All governors are discarded.

Hostile Times rains upon us
Other nations joins the honors
The Elite makes me vomit
There’s plenty of resources among us
God have mercy and let it trickle down on us
Rather than become degrading
In this pew 
I choose prayer
Becoming Sunday Mornings best
Washing away my pains that become abreast; with my chest
Bringing in a new day, 
A today, 
For a better way
In these hostile times we live in.


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A Thing Of Beauty



Some of my best friends are men... BUT WOMEN!!! When a pretty young filly passes me by, I still sit up and take notice There are so many sweet sweet ladies here on the Soup I've actually lost count From way back I've always related to women better than men What does that mean I wonder One thing's for sure, I'm more comfortable in the presence of the fairer sex When a sweetie gives me THAT look I'm a goner... I melt and become a tongue-tied old geezer My male hormones haven't stopped raging even at this MATURE old age I still love watching pretty young things walk by A thing of beauty unsurpassed The most gorgeous work of art that was ever created Some might call me a dirty old man... that's okay I just appreciate the finer things in life And a woman is right there at the top I LOVE WOMEN! © Jack Ellison 2014


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Broken Treasured Flower

With his persuasive tone he continued 
Until she was convinced that the time was ripened.
After a long-winded foreplay she was stimulated,
Like the first taste of applesauce she wanted it.
Her mind poised as she lay back in amorous stance
But her muscles were tautened.

His fingers seemed roaming, but knows the targeted point
His fingers ambled, exuding great adeptness as she moaned
He asked her if she was indifferent and scared
Anxiously, like a baby’s mouth on mama’s nipple for natural milk
She mumbled pluckily with a not-at-all-response 
As she shook her head in affirmation.
In the twinkling of an eye his finger found the right spot.

Deeply his finger bumped into her
He assured her he would be as gentle as a lamb.
Reaching the ‘boiling point,’ shower of shivers rained over her
And goose bumps formed as her body became twitchy all over.
Profoundly both eyes met in enamored density; chemistry was mutual
She saw a telltale conviction in his eyes; her spirit was re-assured
His sedated smiles laid-back her muscles as her legs became wide-open.
Hush his tubular tissue struck softly-softly into her innermost sanctum.

In ecstasy she began to ask for more, oblivious of pains
She beckoned him for a hurry-scurry as her hunger for more continued.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                      
As skilled in the game he understood the pain thereafter
So he took his time as he journeyed in grand pleasure at a snail's pace.
Deeply he invaded her sanctum sanctorum as her muscle cramped
And her network of tissues opened up to avoid 'traffic jams.'
Reality darkened fantasy as she felt pains oscillating insidiously all over her body
And dribble of bloods dripping from the broken treasured flower
Her eyes were filled with tears as she realized her tightly-held pride was gone.

She lay snuggled in his arms as he whispered into her ears lyrics like a lyrebird 
Like the Roman Janus her desired pleasure had fathered a two-faced offspring:
She was gloomy cheerless that her treasured flower had been broken;
She would never be the same again
She was worried that she might be gravid.
But she was pleased to have shared her innermost hush-hush with him
She was delighted that the days her peers’ poured scorns on her were yesterday
She would no longer be left out in their brash adventure natter
She was happy he left an indelible experience ingrained in her memory.


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A DIVINE HOOK-UP: Loyalty, Love and Devotion When Women Worship God

Naomi and her family departed from Bethleham Judah the land of milk and honey
in the midst of a famine as they were unable to earn any money
so on to the region of Moab they ventured and prospered to some degree
until Naomi lost her husband and both sons and was left alone to grieve
to her daughters-in-law she told them both to their families they should go back
but one daughter-in-law Ruth refused to let their relationship come under attack
she told Naomi I will never leave you nor forsake you
I will stay by your side no matter what we have to go through
your people will be my people, your God will be my God
and wherever you choose to travel you and I will never part
with loyalty, love and devotion Ruth needed Naomi in her life
in order for her to develop a relationship with our Lord Christ
now worshipping God together placing their fate in His hands
for this was a divine hook-up that the Lord our God had planned

Now Naomi needed Ruth too but was too afraid to admit it
as she felt she had been forsaken by the presence of the Holy Spirit
but God was in the midst of that relationship from the very start
He had destined that Ruth and Naomi would never, ever part
for when women worship God great relationships are made in life
with loyalty, love and devotion in the name of Jesus the Christ
 
In the course of your life there will be people whom you need and require
to help you to be all that you can be in the way that God desires
the clarifiers in your life will help you to see what is your mission
the collaborators in your life will encourage you to come to a decision
the confronters in your life will nag you and stay in your face
while the comforters in your life if they're of God will help you find your place
then the celebrators in your life will help you to rejoice in your victory
with the spirit of love, devotion and a godly loyalty

Now Ruth went on to get remarried but kept Naomi as a member of her household
for their relationship was a divine hook-up that was under God's control
for when women worship God great relationships last an eternity
Naomi and Ruth a divine hook-up of love, devotion and loyalty


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Female Companion

                                                     She is so typical
                                                           So critical
                                                   For most part difficult

                                   I never really could grasp her in such way
                                       She just wants me to some how stay
                               She comes to my man cave and makes me obey

                                          Shy she was and now I am scared
                                              In such way I almost cared
                              She thinks she can do everything for me I swear

                         She makes me guess everyday but I keep on believing
     Because it is fun to give her a kiss, while she does not know when she is sleeping
                She stresses out but I will tell her my love for her keeps deepening

                So for the most part I just keep her close to make her smile and me
                                When I do things I do it for her it is always a key
            Call me romantic or call me stupefied, but it makes her so, so, sooo, happy


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A Spanking Good Tale

A spanking good tale I read a blog -was it only yesterday I haven’t laughed so much, I can truly say About large women and I will not make fun That’s because I am turning into one But the blog that I read proved there is hope for all As long as we can make sausages, if I recall A massage or two with a pin rolling flat Is it to iron out wrinkles or reduce the fat? A spank a day or so I have heard Is what middle age men like, but girls think absurd A front bum, well that’s a new one on me I have enough in the rear to perhaps make up three But what gives me hope, apart from the front bum thing Is that some men out there seem to enjoy this sort of thing So send me you dreams followed by your numbers too I’ll put them aside for when I’m ready for you So thank you Chris for your blog yesterday You have given hope to all women and that’s all I can say
Inspired By Chris D Aechner's Blog 15/02/2012


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STILL FRAME

Rest assured of pause

let's sit down,love and talk cause

mine is "you"

yours please?

the world, the light

what? say you might?

sensual n beyond.....

cut the bull n ****!!!!

don't be rude if hard hit

okay..

say?

your eyes...

will wrinkle someday

your lips.....

not pink and dry when sip

your heart....

full of envy and angry sweat

what do u want?

"i don't know and i shan't?"

then now

be the man and know

treacherous and torture

have me? or leave me? but hurry up and be sure

okay...okay...give me a...

stop....here come another.... a delightful friend

 




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Human Hyenas

From the time of creation
Adam was brainwashed into
 Believing that he was the brainiac
Behind the Garden of Eden fictions

 Women got tired of men carefree life styles
They laid back personality, they sanctions,
And Most of all they diminished sex drives
It’s too late now, it’s too late now 

Too many wrongs, not enough rights
This world belongs to everyone
Not only Your average Tom, Dick and Harry
Men and women have lost respect for each other.
It’s no longer a man’s world theatrical standards
It's more of a mad, mad world with so much mental attitudes
“I was on first; “I was here first kind of society 

Some of us are human hyenas that 
take advantage in human suffering
Not so hard to believe… but it is the truth.
however, it is so hard to swallow


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Men Becoming Women


What I'm about to write may be offensive to some people But I am absolutely appalled by what's happening at the Olympics Men playing on women's teams concealed by their national dress Not being discovered while undergoing a cursory examination As incredulous as this may seem, it is happening The true spirit of the Olympics has long been destroyed By this “win at any cost” or “by any means” attitude Once a big fan who took pride when my country achieved success The true spirit of the games has become shrouded in controversy Oh, how times have changed © Jack Ellison 2014


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Long Live The Ladies, Ole



Someone mentioned to me quite recently They noticed 90% of the comments I receive For my poems here on the Soup are from the ladies Must be damn well doing something right!!! Now why do you think that is dear Soupers I'm not aiming particularly at the fairer sex Perhaps it's because I write with a bit of humour Which seems to strike a cord with the fairer sex Learned a long time ago you don't have to look like Brad Pitt Or George Clooney or Robert Downey Jr. To get the attention of the ladies You just need to make them giggle till they wet themselves! That sure made a lot of sense to me As far back as I can remember, I've always loved the ladies Can't imagine a world without them It surely would only be half as beautiful! Long live the ladies... olé!!! © Jack Ellison 2014


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The Empty Rib Slot

Dedicated to all of the guys who helped me to make the checklist - thanks!

The Empty Rib Slot I think I might have A perfect checklist Highlights from men Gathered now missed Yes special highlights Each man carried some Now added to my checklist For a guy having it all in one This could be the key to find The man I’m dreaming of Not with bits and pieces One filled full of love A man made for me No it would be not I should fit perfectly Into an empty rib slot Let me share this list With every one of you Then decide for yourself If it could possibly be true My first check comes from This guy with dreamy eyes He deeply touched my soul Way more than ever realized He even had a special smile That made you want to grin No matter if life was down He encouraged me to win There was the big hugger With squeezes oh so tight He lifted me off the floor Like if I was taking flight He never did grow tired Of giving me those hugs I never had to ask for them He always did it out of love Then there was the dancer He stayed light on his feet He loved dancing with me Carrying rhythm and a beat Now of course on this list There certainly has to be That best friend I count on Who can also count on me I am even going to count The good points of quality Generated from my brothers And even from my daddy From them they all carry A very good temperament Always being so easy going Not looking for an argument When I am nestled in that slot With a perfect feel of passion All of his glory will then shine As it eludes from my reflection The most important one of all He who shares a spiritual side Being spiritually open with me Not allowing his beliefs to hide I know how this all may sound Like a crazy thing that I’ve got I want the man I fit snuggly with When I match his empty rib slot Florence McMillian (Flo)


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Since The Very First Dawn



Think of the most beautiful woman You've ever laid your eyes upon And the feeling of passion it stirred inside Men have felt since the very first dawn Only speaking from personal experience But I'm sure most men would agree Nothing's as exciting than this loving vision Of a gorgeous woman, guaranteed A primordial instinct takes over our soul Our thoughts are clouded with lust Of making love on a warm summer's eve Her face the moonlight does brush A scene of passion takes over our mind This fantasy her vision evokes The feeling of two bodies in perfect rhythm Sounds of love emit from our throats Think of the most beautiful woman You've ever laid your eyes upon And the feeling of passion it stirred inside Men have felt since the very first dawn © Jack Ellison 2015


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WOMEN

Where I come from
Women are morale formed
Symbol of sanity
In a world of insanity
Mother Nature in personified
Mother to old and young alike
Better half of a man 
A man ages above her
To be better, she is submissive
Submission, made possible by respect
Through the ages gaps the respect becomes natural

To love a man ages younger is unnatural
Therefore unwomanly, though women are blameless
Blinded by the illusion of sexual expressionism
And freedom which is not needed
With the presumed weakness, comes the strength
The strength that is fast eluding us

You don’t have to be men women
Because we men are jealous of women
For they always stoop to conquer
Who ever said age is just a number lied
Age substitutes wisdom and experience
Nature made it so and nature is woman
 


Offor Ujunwa
on the contest- Cougar Effect


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Memoir: Crashing Women's Studies- Feminists, BEWARE lol

Don't ask me how it happened; I have no clear recollection. I have always had this brazen habit of coming right out and directly asking for whatever I want; I always figured "no!" was the only worst possible outcome, aside from a good cussing, perhaps. Either or both I can handle.

My best friend, who had invited me to this event, wasn't even a speaker; she was just present for class credit and I had nothing better to do so I happily joined her. Her professor was the director, or MC, of the night's festivities and proceedings and Jill introduced us soon after we entered the banquet hall and before the speaking commenced.

I also have this horrid habit of mentioning that I am an artist to anyone of any importance or significance whatsoever, hoping to sound gallant and impressive. I can only surmise that Jill's teacher asked me what kind of artist I was, and I must have boldly stated, with an air of haughty confidence no doubt, that I was a de facto grand poet of the ages. I was only 19 at the time and thought I was Poe! My style was sloppy and unrefined, but I didn't know it yet.

Given that this was a "Women's Studies" organization and all guest speakers that night were, obviously, going to be female, I don't know how I convinced, finagled, schemed, bulled, or mechanized my way into making myself an impromptu speaker as well that evening. It was an "anything goes" type platform, from women reading poetry to short stories, to essays or presenting artwork. I was, I kid you not, the first male to EVER be a speaker at this "Women's Studies" gathering.

Having committed many of my poems to memory, I just quickly jotted down four or five particular favorites, and when it was my time to speak, impertinently stepped right up to the platform, adjusted the microphone, and recited my horrible poetry to a group of...I'm not sure if "feminists" is quite the word for which I am searching. Let's just say that if Gloria Steinem or Gertrude Stein had been in the audience, I might have been yanked off the podium. So there I was, babbling about, having basically crashed this Feminist rally. That I wasn't mauled or had my eyes scratched out can only be attributed to luck, progressive-thinking, guardian Angels or plain ol' polite courtesy. In retrospect, I blanch at the thought of my shameless, unabashed audacity.

I would love to know whether any more males ever took part in anymore of their events, but I guess I'll never know and can only hope that little bit of history I made that night remains intact. True story.


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How To Meet Gorgeous Women



How does a man meet a gorgeous woman So it doesn't seem he's out on the make If she smiles, that gets the the old ball rolling Take it slow with each step you take Start with talking about the fun you're having Then ask her if she's having fun too Imagine your arms wrapped around this beauty And kissing this sweet babaloo Duck if she tries to hit you with a chair And screams bloody murder out loud Probably misread this sweet lassie's signals Best to disappear in the crowd Problem arises if she follows you home Yelling a bunch of very naughty words Pretend you don't know this very strange lady As her blows make your vision blurred No one promised success the first try Eventually you're bound to hit pay dirt You'll wonder forever why it took so long As she coyly takes off her skirt!!! © Jack Ellison 2015


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Women Who LOVE Football - VERSION 1

Women Who LOVE Football
Live with PASSION
Are not afraid to FIGHT
Aren’t afraid to get DIRTY
Know how to put their GAME FACE on
Are always ready to EXECUTE their OPTIONS
WILL NEVER GIVE UP
Have a sense of PURPOSE
Are STRONGER than they think
PLAY by the RULES
Have ATTITUDE 
Will lose with DIGNITY
And will always WIN with STYLE.

 
(November 28, 2010 Wausau, Wisconsin)

(c) Copyright 2010 by Christine A Kysely, All Rights Reserved, 


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FALLEN LEADERS

THEY WERE AN INSPIRATION TO US ALL THEY WERE MIGHTY AND THEY WERE STRONG.

THEY FOUGHT FOR EQUALITY AND FOR JUSTICE THEY PUT GOD FIRST IN EVERYTHING.
THEY DO.

THEY STOOD UP FOR WHAT THEY BELIEVED IN THEY DIDN'T TAKE NO FOR AN ANSWER.

I SEE THEM AS MIGHTY MEN AND WOMEN WOULD NOT TAKE A BACK SEAT.

ONE MINUTE THEY WERE HERE BREATHING THE AIR OF LIFE THEY NEXT MINUTE THEY ARE TOUCHING THE GROUND ASLEEP IN THEIR COFFINS.

FOR IF THERE WERE NO WASHINGTON THERE WOULD NO LINCOLN, NO TEDDY,NO FDR, NO JFK, NO CLINTON.

IT WAS SUSAN B. ANTHONY WHO PAVED THE WAY FOR WOMEN SUCH AS GERALDINE FERRARO, NANCY PELOSI AND SO MANY OTHERS.

SHE PROVED THAT A WOMAN IS MORE THAN JUST A CHILDBEARER AND A MAID.

IF THERE WAS NO NAT TURNER THERE WOULD BE NO FREDERICK DOUGLASS, NO MARTIN LUTHER KING, NO MALCOLM X THEY WOULD BE NO OBAMA.

THEIR LEAGACY LIVES ON IN THE LEADERS WHO ARE IN THE MAKING INSPIRING US TO BE ALL WE CAN BE AND IF WE FOLLOW OUR DREAMS WE CAN GO ANYWHERE.


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The girlfriend of my friend

THE GIRLFRIEND OF MY FRIEND
Saturday noon I drove my car to her house.
Seeing the doors open my eyebrows were all aroused.
I began to curse Jai who told me
“Samit look after my girlfriend while I’m out of town”
Damn it! Now all my weekend plan are drown.

I saw the first sight of Natasha.
She was sitting on her sofa with her legs crossed.
And a pretty little mole near the thigh exposed
Her skin was like a cream from orchids of Vanilla.
Lips that can drive madness spree in any fella.

“Hello there! When did u arrive?” mouthed she.
“Come down and help me with my sandal” asked she.
I took her softish feet in my crude hands
And haul them inside the sandal where they melt.
“Let’s go”, she stood up and said in a shot.
I followed her to my car with her range goddamn hot.

I stopped the car at the Curries restaurant.
But her thoughts in my mind still drew.
With the getting to know chit chat, yea, oh, hmm…
I thought I’m getting her bored.
She’s a kind of girl who let me down as I feel fool.
With the cool girl as that I wish I had tricks bag full.

Dropping her late night I asked if she had the good time.
With eyes looking at sandal she said that made me wakeup,
“Your friend shows he has move on after the breakup
But still didn’t forget to send the gift on my special day
 Give my thanks and say the sandals are not my size”
She muttered after a teardrop rolled from her eyes.

So I’m texting you Jai…not to make her shoe size settle
But urging you to go back to make her every day SPECIAL.

-By Kunal Rathod


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God doesnt make them like our mothers anymore

God doesnt make them like our mothers 
anymore

There is no love in them
Their eyes move in every directions like a 
chameleon
They value money more than their bodies
Every man can touch as long as he is rich 
enough

They walk around with their bellies open 
With artificial faces which defy nature
All they know is the bottle and less books
They reduce themselves to attention 
seekers 
and calling themselves names like "bad 
bitches"
I am pretty sure God doesn't make them 
like 
our mothers anymore

They boast about not being able to cook
All they know is our beds and not our kitchen
They exchange lovers like shoes 
They ignore the words of wisdom from their 
elders

Unending relationship struggles,broken 
marriages and kids with no fathers.
You find them in bars and not churches
What is happening to our generation?
God doesn't make them like our mothers 
anymore

They no longer carry seeds of patience in 
their bossom
Pretty smiles, beautiful skin but corrupt 
hearts
This is what has become of our sisters, our 
girlfriends,our women
They are lost in their world which they think 
they know everything until Aids comes 
along.

Written by Tawona M Ranganawa