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Men, they say
Dominators
Slayers
Conquerors

We have been subjugated by their culture and rules
The norms and the religions of masculine fools
The laws and the clowns
The world one day will evolve

We who have the curves and seductive smiles
Are we not filled inside with the same DNA? so they say…
Give us books and untie our bonds
We shall rise up, making empires strong

Mock not my dashing eyes
Discount not, my luscious thighs
I shall dance your dance into the night
Have no doubt; I shall be your queen

When we are embraced, for who we are
Do you not see? We shall gleam like the stars in the night
Genders, colors, nations too
Leave them sitting in old church pews

Philosophers, doctors, engineers of creation
We shall be side by side, working with you
So smile and behold the new golden age
Suras must die, in the deserts of past sage

Sisters of the sun, the gods, and the wind
The old men of the past must rescind
Glories are coming, so rejoice and behold
Equality is the greatest story a woman ever told 

Poet George Sand Notes

Excerpt from letters to Gustave Flaubert Nohant from George Sand
Amantine-Lucile-Aurore Dupin, wrote under the pseudonym name of George Sand
She was born in July, 1804, and is more known as a writer, but many of her prose by today’s standards are very poetic in nature. She was a feminist long before the term existed. She was very able to converse and discuss with men, as equals, and at the same time able to maintain all that makes us beautiful. She was able to see the finest details of life as well as absorb the political and cultural idiosyncrasies of the time, and had no fear saying her own views. 


To be an inconvenience distresses me
I sleep everywhere, in the ashes, or under a kitchen bench, like a stable dog.
Everything shines with spotlessness at your house
So one is comfortable everywhere.
I shall pick a quarrel with your mother and we shall laugh and joke, you and I,
         much and more yet. 
If it’s good weather, I shall make you go out walking, if it rains continually, we shall
          roast our bones before the fire while telling our heart pangs.
The great river will run black or grey under the window saying always, fast, faster! Carrying away our thoughts, and our days, and our nights, without stopping to notice
          such small things.

"The beauty that addresses itself to the eyes is only the spell of the moment; the eye of the body is not always that of the soul."
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