Abuse Woman Poems | Abuse Poems About Woman

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Details | Personification |

PART 2 - Earthbound Angels Made of Stone - An Epic

Those evil thorns of bitterness
That couldn't bear to see
This child so loved and so adored
By their father
Captain Lee

Until one day in early May
When she went out to play
In  fields drenched in morning  dew
Above a wind swept Bay
While standing there
Out on a ledge
Above a sea of green 
With eyes cast down
In deep reflection
Upon that ship of dreams

T'was then 
Her brothers 
Only half
Stepped out beyond the pale
And took the life of Amber 
As her father's ship set sail

The child of Rose
And Captain lee
So cherished and adored
Her lifeless body
Found that morning 
On the Ocean floor 
Forever laid to rest in death
Beneath her mother's breast 
Her named refrained for years in vain
Cried through her father's pain

So many times in life
This Rose 
Had dealt with tragedy 
But this time 
She was dealt
A lifetime 
Of grief 
Without reprieve

So...now alone with 
Hope and faith 
Nowhere in her sight
She drifted  in a fog of
Endless days 
And endless nights

A broken soul 
With only yearnings
For her little girl
A broken soul
Through a cruel 
And lonely world

A soul so deeply steeped in
Endless grief and
Endless  sorrow
Chained to that tragic day 
With no wish
To see tomorrow

Until one day
When Rose laid down
Upon the brink of death
And watched those green leaves
Turn to amber
Kissed by autumn's breath
A breath that set a blazing fire
Deep within her soul
When that mighty tree
Found the strength
To finally let her children go

And...standing there
Before her now
Rose saw a tree 
With empty boughs
And in that moment realized
Those we love 
Will never die

That tree would bear
The cruel sting
That winter's breath 
Of ice would bring
To once again
Give birth
In spring 

So with faith and hope
Now at her side
She found again the will
To rise
To spread her wings again
And fly


For two more score
Rose closed the door
On that devil Tragedy
Reborn again
Found inner-peace
In spirituality

Loyal companion
And caregiver to
The ailing
Captain Lee
Who no longer had the 
Will to sail
Upon the endless sea 

He died a sad and broken man
Who finally came to understand
It was his son's 
Who bore the thorns
That left his heart and mind so torn
When they with
Greed and  jealousy 
The sweetest child
Ever born

But... Justice 
In its own strange way  
Had indeed 
The final say
When the sons of  Captain Lee
Went to the bottom
Of the sea
Downed by a fierce
Raging storm
That finally killed
Those bitter thorns
The day their father

Coin and land 
And hearth and home
The Captain had bequeathed  
For she had stayed there
By his side
Long after she was free
In his final 
Will and testament
His one  good parting deed
Signed with a long repenting quill
And by the legal powers that be
He did in deed
In deep repose
Give it all to Rose

Rose now walked 
The streets of town
With grace and dignity
The richest women in the land
Thanks to Captain Lee

For two more score
With open door
Rose lived in tranquility
Her house dedicated 
To the legacy 
Of Captain Cannon Lee
Providing shelter to the poor
Abandoned women
And their babes
So grateful for the many lives
With the grace of God 
She saved

She died one day in autumn
When amber leaves fell from the tree
And was laid to rest
Beside her daughter
And the Captain Cannon Lee
Dubbed the Rose of Savannah
By those who knew her well
They came by the hundreds
To say their last farewell
Rose petals 
In shades of ebony
Were laid upon her grave
Each one in loving memory
For all the lives she 
Helped  to save


We dwell in quiet places
Where mortals sleep eternally
We earthbound angels made of stone
Keeping vigil for thee

Stone angels carved by human hands
In honor of the dead
Giving meaning to the path
Where mortals dare to tread

Written:  June, 2016
Author:  Elaine C. George of Canada

Copyright © Elaine George | Year Posted 2016

Details | Free verse |

Humanity Melts

Looking at you, they feel lust;
lust for the curves they say you flaunt.
The silver lining visible through your deep neck.
The perfect waist they say,
you show in those tightly fitting kurtis.
Those slender legs they stare at,
during the numb hours;
their humanity melts with each moment a bit more.

Looking at you, they show greed;
greed for the thighs they say you flaunt.
The belly button showing through your crop top.
The toned hips they say,
you show in those cotton leggings.
Those naked backs they search for,
with their lustful glances;
their humanity melts with each moment a bit more.

Looking at you, they trickle saliva;
saliva on your pure spots they say you flaunt.
The strap of your bra peeking out through your shoulder.
Those luscious lips they say,
you call for with those lip balms on.
The dropping dupatta they hope for,
with those greedy glares;
their humanity melts with each moment a bit more.

Looking at you, they fall over;
over the corpse of the shattered soul they say you hide.
The life of the dead emotions oozing through your eyes.
Those clichéd tears they say,
you drip out for sympathy.
The lonely longings they wish for,
in those silent deserted lanes;
their humanity melts with each moment a bit more.

Copyright © Sourabh Acharya | Year Posted 2017

Details | I do not know? |

RIP Virginity

Dear Sir, my innocence is gone now, no more fear 
Do you love to **** me again, I am always here. 
I wonder when you taught me how to use a pen, 
I was so into you but my ****** was in pain! 
I was crying; I was too immature to understand
I was turning only 13, I couldn't feel what happened. 
but I promise I never forget what you taught me at the end. 
I begged you to stop and looked into your eyes, 
there was a reflection of a cruel world, that’s  what I deserved!
Don't be afraid, mommy never knows what you did, 
Nobody knows that you made me bleed. 
Dear sir, my innocence is gone with all my tears,
as I had no safe place to hide myself from fears.
Nobody saw anything as your world was so blind! 
having hidden hatred inside, a virgin died. 
Dear sir, time cannot erase your memories, 
time doesn't heal all wounds, that you marked, 
yes, you took my innocence that will be always on my mind.
My innocent world was shattered by your touch
Hope no one ever has to experience such
For all the pain, all the cruelty, thank you very much!

Copyright © Farhana Akter | Year Posted 2014

Details | Epic |

The pride of a woman

 The pride of a woman
A woman
She is so beautiful
A woman
She is so tender
A woman
She is so emotional 
A woman
She is so humble
A woman
She is so caring
A woman
She is sensitive
A woman 
She is a mother
A woman
On and on she is

The pride of a woman
just for a culture she is
Abuse tender,
At the age of 12 
In africa
A man at his 60's
Pay for her as a wife
As culture demand
What a culture

The pride of a woman
Sade is on exile
She got married
At age 11
And ever since her life
For more 12 years
She lived as a slave wife
To his rich religious husband
At 73 he died 
As culture and custom permit
His first son will take over
 his late fathers wives and wealth

The pride of a woman
Sade could not take it 
any more
And she took a risk of her
As She try's migrate to Italy 
On the way she died
On a sea with a rubber boat
Her body was never found 
Till date
The pride of a woman
Say no to abuse of woman
In the third world countries
Say no to early marriage
Stop the killing of female
Stop the rape of our beautiful 
In Africa a culture of
Early marriage 
Rule so high

The pride of a woman 
A woman 
Is also a human
Not a man's property

Copyright © richard nnoli | Year Posted 2014

Details | Rhyme |

A Marine

As she puts on her military uniform,
She's proud; proud to serve her country.
Yet, there is a dark cloud of memory,
Up the hill from home under an old oak tree.

She can picture in her minds eye,
The mans scarred ugly face.
She feels hands of betrayal as she continues to cry,
Such nasty oily hands touching her all over the place!

She wants to fight; God knows she wants to fight,
But shes young and so very frail.
She can't sleep for worry he'll visit her at night,
Like the bogeyman from hell!

She eventually gets taken away from home,
Rescued by a foster family in another town.
There were times she felt utterly alone,
But confidence and smiles replaced her frown!

She grew up over coming insecurities,
And becoming a beautiful woman so brave.
She destroyed those emotional demonic entities,
And buried them deep in her mental grave!

Today, she is among the elite,
She is an emotional, physical fighting machine.
She no longer wears shackles on her feet,
She knows no defeat; for she is A Marine!!!


Copyright © Jimmy Anderson | Year Posted 2016

Details | Free verse |

a woman cannot always leave

If a man is hurt by love
he just up and leaves -
becomes a recluse
Finds a shack somewhere 
by a pond in the woods

But a woman cannot always leave
she has her family
her pride of porcelain
She tends the stove for them
cooks over the heat
her thoughts directed inward
From December to December she tends them
A recluse in her heart

Come December
 when a pond somewhere
 is covered in ice 
an old man remembers
 he laments his days
 as a recluse with just a stove for heat
the memory of her never leaves him
a memory  as icy-cool
 as her porcelain

Copyright © Suzanne Delaney | Year Posted 2014

Details | Acrostic |

16 days of activism against woman and child abuse

S ober your mind and clear the mist of ignorance
I mmediate reaction is required to gang up against perpetrators 
X enial approach is needed to shield the victims from prejudice
T o help everyone understand their struggles, education is vital 
E very day I hear voices of abused women and children so loud, who are
E mbedded by perpetrators that are protected family ties. Their protection 
N ullifies all the laws meant to deal with perpetrators of abuse   
D evastating news we hear on daily basis 
A mongst ourselves we gossip about victims dilemmas instead of calling 
Y oung and old to shun an abusive behavior 
S ober your mind and clear the mist of ignorance

O ver the years we’ve called for unity and 
F avors to converge in solidarity to support victims of rape		 

A t least to show them, they are not alone 
C avities of abusive incidences are vivid, especially 
T o the young ones who are victims of rape
I ncluding those who were sexually abused. 
V enting words like, it’s your fault 
I nflict contradictory perceptions in a victim’s mind
S ober your mind and clear the mist of ignorance
More than 16 days is need to clear the mist of ignorance
A ctive participations is crucial to help us 
G ain trust and to restore confidence of the victims
A nd the support of the entire nation	
I n this way we can all be sure that
N o one will be left alone to deal with the ordeal of abuse 
S ukumani sakhe isizwe 
T he time is now!

C hildren must be protected, and be
H idden away from the monster’s with  
I ll behaviors, irrespective of their biological connection 
L ove is all they need to
D are life obstacles and conquer them 
R emember they draw courage from us 
E ven if we poor a simple gesture of love goes a long way 
N ever underestimate the power of love 
A lmighty gives us children to love and support them 
N o one must take advantage of their fragile situation
D o not condone any acts that violate their rights. it starts with you

W omen often delay to pinpoint abusive behaviors, especially  
O f their partners who are romantically involved simply because their
M othering nature shadows the realities of abuse 
A nd silence the nagging voice awaking their conscience  
N o one should ignore their conscience.

A cts of violent and abuse are inhuman and
B rutal to humanity  
U nder no circumstances should we tolerate their ill behavior	
S ober your mind and clear the mist of ignorance
E xpel propensities of woman and child abuse. Real Man heed the call 

Copyright © Bongani Zungu | Year Posted 2015

Details | Free verse |

The Woman In The Window

                                               Can you see the woman in the window?
                                                 She basks in the glow of the moment,                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                 
                                                 donning a princess pink gown
                                                 with a train of angel white.
                                                 Nervous tears of joy                    
                                                 stream down her vibrant face
                                                 streaking her blushing cheeks
                                                 a pallad hue of shadow blue.

                                                Can you see the woman in the window?
                                                  She bathes in the light of renewed hope
                                                  dressed in a large billowing top
                                                  with teddy bears adorning the front.
                                                  The sudden thrust of an innocent kick
                                                  forces her to clutch her swollen belly,                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                               
                                                  and a tender smile fades to a wince
                                                  as motherhood pains begin to quicken.

                                               Can you see the woman in the window?
                                                  she soaks in the brutality of the moment
                                                  clothed in a torn cotton gown
                                                  with crimson streaks down the front
                                                  Like a doll thrown to the floor,
                                                  she lay broken against the window
                                                  her head twisted slightly askew
                                                  with finger bruises around her neck.
                                                  Her battered terror ravaged face
                                                  pressed against a cracked window pain,
                                                  like some macabre masterpiece.
                                                  Two crystal blue eyes frozen in fear 
                                                  now free from the hands of oppression
                                                  surrender a horrible unspoken truth.
                                                  Huddled next to the cold lifeless body,
                                                  a tiny teary-eyed little girl
                                                  clutches a frail banded hand,
                                                  and loudly whimpers the words:
                                                  Mommy! Please wake up! 
                                                 Have you seen a woman in the window?
                                                  Will she be there tomorrow...?

Copyright © Kim Morrison | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse |

I Have Been Her Kind

"haunting the black air, braver at night.......
...lonely thing, twelve fingered, out of mind......
.....I have been her kind."
Anne Sexton

I Have Been Her Kind

I float above....
a cloud, unto myself
my heart a stone experiment
A woman slightly bent

My shapely legs
beneath a dowdy skirt
My sensual lips
turned down with hurt
Leaf brown to love
A woman not defined

An all renouncing mind
Where trust has flown
on dark befuddled wings
A woman, prey to death

 I have been her kind

 Suzanne Delaney

Copyright © Suzanne Delaney | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse |


Dear Diary,
It's eleventh day of June, I'm about to celebrate my 18th birthday.
But this morning, I don't wanna go out and face the world.
I'm tired, my Dear Diary... I don't have enough strength to tell them my secrets.
It's you and I who only knew this thing, even mom's not aware of it!
I'm afraid that they may not understand, that they may be wrath or hurt me.
You knew, it's been six years now that we everyday talk about it.
And you're the only one that help me breathe when I suffocate.
Six years of unstoppable nightmare, I still recall.
It was 10:00 PM and mom has gone for a party.
Uncle Joe was left to look after the kids and me.
I woke up when I felt the wind passing through my window.
It's a cold dark night, I tried to shield myself in a blanket.
When suddenly an image of a guy entered in my room.
I closed my eyes so tight,then told myself it's a monster from the dark!
But his footsteps moved towards my bed,until a big hand grabbed my mouth.
I grasp the air then try to shout, aloud but he punched me out.
That was so hurt and caused me weak, until I surrendered to his wrist.
Though weak and helpless I felt the pain...
The deep penetration of his thorn to my flesh.
I was left broken into pieces at my very young age.
The most painful moment when someone broke my life.
A night I couldn't forget 'til today that I've grown.
And this evening, I'll be a princess in  a rose pink gown,
The crowd will sure awe while they watch me dance.
I hope I can have the courage to refuse the last hand.
The hand of my step dad who will be my last dance.
I hope I can tell the world that this guy ruined my life.
That he must pay for killing my flesh every night that mom is out!
But today, It's just you and me,  my Dear Diary.
Who knew all the secrets and the faith that I achieved.

written: May 12,2014
Entry to: Anne Currin's Dear Diary Poetry Contest

Copyright © Aiyah de Torres | Year Posted 2014

Details | Romanticism |

Can you feel me

Feel me standing there
on the draw bridge
that stands stubburn and erect
over the rushing waters blown by the wind
back and forth.
I listened to the crows
posted on gargoils designed
of eightenth century Gothic architecture
singing their death songs,
when the sun is setting in the far.

The voices of women passing
startle me with a feeling of sorrow
I can't breathe, I am dying.
Feel me, can you feel me rot away?
Slowly but surely rot away
as time passes with ease,
and taxi cabs take smiling, intoxicated faces
to wayward cafes, oh how they screech to a halting stop
and wave to me to get in.

"No thank you, I'd rather walk." I say to the smiling faces
highly intoxicated with the thought of the birds and the bees
rattling around in their empty minds.
Then they drive off, into the city lights and turn a darkened corner.
I look at the rushing water
and feel myself rot away
slowly but surely rot away.

Can you feel me?
Can you hear me?
Can you see me?
Feel my heart thump with slow paces
that manage to keep up with fast melodies.
Of songs that play in your mind
only the ones that make you sigh
and think those one days in Spring time
as you walked over the draw bridge
and paid no mind to the water underneth.
I hear no more talk of you and me, I hear no more talk
of the good old times we all shared.
Time has passed, as I take my last breathe
and hold my chest and shead a tear.
Feel me, can you?
If you can, put your hand to my weak heart 
and feel it thump away with every second wasted
on useless items.
Now, see me a man of one time greatness
reflect his life with a reflection in the water below.
How I sigh and cry and breath heavely,
as I feel myself rot away.

The voices of woman pass me by.
Tomorrow is a new day,
for the smiling faces in taxi cabs will go home
and soak their raging hangovers with cool, wet rags.
As I still stand on the draw bridge singing with the crows,
feeling myself rot away.

Can you feel me without you, rotting away?
I surely can feel myself rot.
Such a heavy word, "rot"
So vulgare, yet a great description of me,
without you.

I pull out a shawl you once wore and I kiss it.
As the wind gusts and the sun rises and my shadow
comes to meet me, the wind shall take my last memory
of you away.
And I shall weep no more.
Then what will I do? Shall I walk the streets
and think of you.
Yes you, still rambling all throughout my head
like a lose screw.
Can you feel me? Feel me rot away
feel me think about you, and all your works.
Can you feel me?

Copyright © Chris Boskovski | Year Posted 2013

Details | Couplet |

Todays Good Deed

Today’s Good Deed

In your open hand
I placed a red rose petal upon it

You looked up at me in puzzlement
Curiosity won over fear

I replied “ the rose petal fell from the sky”
As I tried to capture and hold, it fluttered to your hand

I am sorry, was not I… simply the wind
You smiled retrieving your hand back to the pen

umm, ummm , excuse me miss
Sorry to disturb encore

You looked up, maybe even wishing me gone
I looked down, how does one fix that frown?

These by the way are for you, please, absorb the fragrance
Twelve lovely red roses

Oh but now your face is the absolute same color
Your frown is a smile

Alas beauty has fallen onto beauty
The mist of yesterdays tear, evaporates

but but but stranger man, why me?
The rose petal was a sign for us both you see

You so wished to know there is kindness in this world
I so wished to make anyone at all smile, even but for a moment

So you see, we both have achieved a goal today
I bid you good day, wishing thee well with flowery bouquet

Off I went, across the street, lurking in the shadows
Following close behind, almost empty street

Behind, a wire quickly wrapped around the neck
I slit the throat, blood spurting to the skies

Shock and wonder, why why why?
Death though came fast, I walked away

The roses made her smile only for a moment
Ah but her stalkers death by my hands.............

Shall wipe the sadness and frown
Her fears you see, I just drowned

In blood

Copyright © arthur vaso | Year Posted 2016

Details | Rhyme |


No blame on you..
No blame on you woman,
To stand and yell,
No blame on you lady,
To shout and fight!!
No blame on you,
To lose your reason,
To miss your season..
To lose control temper and sight.
When your pride has gone with dust,
Approached and left as source of lust,
By....men sons of men,
Fountain of promises, Streams of lies, 
Arrogance and disgust!
Will you still believe and put your trust?
On the sexist..Retrograde..
On the still.. A maniac pat!
Is it wrong or is it right??
To become a sex symbol..?
A commodity..?
Pornography to please the Pratt?
You lost your status...You lost your pride...
Your virginity,
And you did not mind,
You lost your femininity,
Your Victorian teachings,
You escaped the past,
And here you're today fighting the present,
Your cause is a "Must",
Nobody cares..Except you...
Only you..You! Are by God,
An immortal...
A respected wife..
A cherished sister...
A sweet daughter,
A beloved mother... Here you last.!..  

Copyright © Abder Derradji | Year Posted 2015

Details | Epic |

A Woman And Her Pair of Shoes

this is a story of a woman.
work hard for the living.
used to work in the evening.
her face is filled with glitters.
inside the cave of dragons and beasts...

she is my beloved childhood friend.
she made a letter one day we met.
to let the people know 'bout herself.
she left it my wallet one morning,
and this is what she's telling....

she was only 15 when she left our town.
try to experience a life she dreamed about.
she dreams to change her life somehow.
but trouble had came and wreck her life.
thought this man can save her from the dark.

but the wheel of fortune did not fave her.
she was thrown inside the carcel.
she became famous in a world of fools.
dancing alone with a pair of shoes.
naked and wounded, her soul is abused.

too many years passed,
our roads had crossed.
I saw her picture in front of a door.
her hair has colors,her face is old.
I went to witness what a world she holds.

so many people are watching over,
their eyes are glimmer and craving.
I look up and see what's amuse them.
A question risen up in my head.
why is she dancing with just a pair of shoes?

that night seemed long, we drove away.
we felt each moment, our soul had mate.
I've drowned in a passion I dreamed to own.
I wake up that morn, I'm all alone.
holding a letter she wrote all night long.

this is the story of a woman,
wearing just a pair of shoes.
she is not different from you.
she is a princess of her dad.
she's an angel, she must be love.

Written by: Aiyah De Torres
Entry for WOMEN ONLY Poetry Contest

** 4th Place Winner**

Copyright © Aiyah de Torres | Year Posted 2014

Details | Rhyme |

Thoughts Of A Broken Woman

Am I not human too?
You look at me in disgust.
What did I ever do to you?
Don’t you remember when it was just us?
No arguments no cheating no fuss? 
You said I was beautiful, you said I was amazing and you and you said you loved me,
But since you met her I have suddenly grown ugly?
You say I’m a mess,
But who wouldn’t be after all the hurt you caused me,
Oh! So you think I’d forget?
Many nights I fell asleep on a pillow soaking wet,
I wish we didn’t end up like this.
I miss the soft touch of your lips,
I miss the feeling of butterflies in my tummy; that’s what I felt when we first kissed.
All I have are the memories and to sit around and wish,
Wish we didn’t end up like this,
Wish if we still felt the way we felt about each other when we first kissed.
We made love,
You were my first, the best!
We’d laugh and talk about anything,
While we both lay with my head on your chest.
Now I’m sitting here crying,
My pillow is soaking wet.
Falling in love with you is now my biggest regret.

Copyright © Sedain Sangster | Year Posted 2015

Details | Haiku |

Geisha Advanced Education - Haiku

       Geisha Advanced Education - Haiku

educated young
no song, no dance, no sex, blessed
Jade barks, Geisha laps

Copyright © Earl Schumacker | Year Posted 2014

Details | Lyric |

In Bloom

Written July 29, 2013

The wind blows the rainbows down
Turns your frown upside down
Then spins it back around

The sun hides the moon
Underneath its coat in bloom
The flowers came late this June

The rain in a teardrop
Falls like dew from a leaf
When she looks at me

See that look upon her face
Used to take her to the stars
Now she's headed back from Mars

Now that Venus loves her more
Wouldn't throw her to the floor
Like before

Copyright © Brandon Carter | Year Posted 2013

Details | Lyric |

Beware the Woman

Beware of a woman with a broken heart
She used to be a girl
They never see pain coming when it's just the start
But a little experience let the truth unfurl
She'll take what you have and throw it away
Just like a little girl
But bat her eyes and beg you to stay
And you'll give it another whirl
Beware the woman with a broken heart
She'll break yours to make amends
She'll claim that the two halves are better apart
She thinks that's how her story ends

Beware the girl with a fragile heart
She'll become a woman one day
Treat her right from the very start
Don't be the one to hurt and run away

Copyright © Juli- Michelle | Year Posted 2013

Details | Rhyme |

Paper Thin

Your paper-thin porcelain skin,
I know how to get right under it.
For kicks is why I do it now.
You tell me to love but I never knew how.
Our feet hitting pavement,
We spent the day in sunny California with sun kissed skin.
I’m learning to forget and how to fade scars,
And you let me let myself down so hard.

Your paper-thin porcelain skin,
I know how to get right under it.
And now I just do it for smiles,
We’ll never see flower girls stumbling down aisles.
I’d lose my head just before that chance,
But if you want we can still have a first dance.
Cause I think I say things that I don’t mean,
Once upon a time you meant the world to me.

Your paper-thin porcelain skin,
I know how to get right under it.
But I’m trying to refrain,
To make this not all end up in vain.
Maybe I can learn to love like some people do,
And you can learn to love yourself a little too.
Or it is in all fairness to let this go?
I guess we can try but then we’ll never know. 

Copyright © Ag Ki | Year Posted 2013

Details | Haiku |

On an abused woman

A cool fresh breeze
is wiping off her tears,
not her bruises.
She is making up
her tears with
big warm smiles.
witnesses to her woes-
luxurious furniture.

Copyright © Vassilis Comporozos | Year Posted 2014

Details | Free verse |

I'll Stand For You

I am standing for the woman that is too weak to stand,
A string of abuse she has suffered all her life long. 
She believes she is on her own no one to support her
So I will be her strength and support, her verbal backbone.

Let me then tell you Mr. Abuser, I will not stand aside,
While you tear down the walls of the weak and feeble.
In your face I’ll stand, with my shoulders squared fast,
Been there, stepped up, overcame, so that is my armor.

Now that’s not where I’ll leave it, more needs to be done
For the woman that is weak and feeble in self esteem.
A rescue is not the wherewithal, there has to be a goal
For her to strive unto, on the road she'll walk to being whole.

Encourage her to use her past of pain, to build
A better self for her future and make her fears
Be the rock on which she stands, to reach higher
Above the murk of abuse and self-mutilation. 


For Debbie's contest:  Stand

Copyright © Joy Wellington | Year Posted 2012

Details | Rhyme |

What Does it Mean to be a Woman

What Does it Mean to be a Woman?

What does it mean to be a woman? 
What does it mean to suffice?
It means to overcome suppression,
By men as cold as ice.

I suspect you know about the cruelty,
Of history and its legacy, 
And that you yourself can change our society,
Away from this harsh, insidious fallacy.

That we are different from men, 
In any way apart from physically, 
Is an ignorant misconception, 
That should be quashed entirely. 

Women and men are like a rope, 
Two separate strands twisted together; 
Both strong and individual, independent, 
But to each other they are important. 

Without both sexes you wouldn't have kids, 
The continuation of life and humanity, 
Where many affairs and relationships occur to give, 
Much happiness, freedom and proclivity. 

But the relationship facet of daily life, 
Can be very distastefully circumvented; 
You can be sexually abused in childhood and raped, 
And then not taken seriously or respected.  

Being female means that you need to justify your intellect, 
To validate it and maintain its vitality, 
In replies to teachers, lecturers and college friends:  
Reactions will tire you, and you will not comprehend. 
When you're employed, you just have to ignore the signs, 
Men give you when they're not mellow or tactile;  
You just need to chill out and get on with things energetically, 
‘Cos you know you don't need them to be upwardly mobile. 

And worse, you're considered second in the family, 
‘Cos your brother is always way more important;  
He's the pride of his eternally doting parents, 
When you're just left with a specific love quotient. 

Feminism is old, but it is still really young, 
There's so much more talking to be done, 
For a world with no rape, jousting and evil glares - 
We all need to climb a few more stairs. 

Copyright © Rhoda Monihan | Year Posted 2016

Details | Free verse |

Rape Culture: A One Act Play in 4 Scenes

Scene 1
Curtain rises. Spotlight illuminates a selfie. Notice her beauty. Notice her confidence. Cue likes and comments. A gentle waltz of "yasss queen" and heart eye emojis enter the stage. Cue slut shaming. Up through trapdoor in center of stage jumps slurs. A grand ballet of "put on some clothes" and "wear less makeup" attack the confidence of the girl. Audience applauds, glad it's not them getting harassed.

Scene 2
Enter from right strange man. Cross to stage left and grab hold of girl. Girl yells "fire". Audience reacts in confusion by the lack of an actual fire. Sudden flashback to girl, younger, being told by her mother that if she is attacked in public, to yell fire, for no one will respond if she yells rape. Audience woos at the reveal of institutionalized rape culture. Audience romanticizes the ensuing rape. Audience blames girl for being raped rather than man for raping. 

Scene 3
Enter girl, walking through the cemetary of her femininity. On her right, "here lies her dignity". Rest in pieces. On her left, funeral goers asking her why she climbed into the grave they dug for her. Cue music. Orchestrations include the songs "Catcalls on a Dark Street at Night" and "The Hypersexualization of Young Girls". 

Scene 4
Lights reveal girl standing on empty stage. Cue final monologue. Girl opens her mouth to speak and… Lights dim. Curtains close. Audience is relieved they didn't have to listen to the girl speak. Relieved they didn't have to hear her opinion. Relieved they didn't have to acknowledge her as being a human being just like them.

Copyright © Hannah Fischer | Year Posted 2016

Details | ABC |

Black Woman

Heeey! Heey! Black, black woman 
Run, Black Woman Run,Run for your 
So called husband is about to Beat 
you and hit. You again, Black 
Woman Run,Run for he has Made 
Another child somwhere and you are 
about to Bear the Pain for his 
Heeey! Black Woman Run, Run for 
he did not Go to Work the whole 
Week and yet he will want food on 
the Table. Black woman Run Run for 
He is drunk again and yes he will 
force to have sex with you even 
though he knows that you know He  
is sleeping around and Only God 
knows if he uses prottection, oh! I 
feel the pain you feel Woman but 
still you have a chance to escape 
such pain and suffering, Black 
woman Run, For this is so sad for 
Black Woman didn't He promised 
you to love you until his last Breath? 
Was he not the one who said till 
death do you Part not till he putts 
you to Death, Woman I have seein 
your suffering and pain now Run b4 
He bruse you myb he may kill you 
this time, look at that deep scare 
above your eye, look at your swalen 
arm oh! What about that internal 
bleeding you had the other day ey 
Run Woman you shining Armour is 
turning into something else Run, 
Run Run its getting worse

Copyright © sipumeze Mba | Year Posted 2013

Details | Villanelle |


Justice adjourns in Civil Law. All must hear my voice. I entered the Court Room insecure. I stand as he enters the room. The Judge begins deliberation. Justice adjourns in Civil Law. The injuries I have are the cause of litigation. My pain is stated via face. I entered the Court Room insecure. In God’s speed, I trust. Confidence begins to enter my person. Justice adjourns in Civil Law. Focus on the Defense brings more confidence. I stop self-doubting. I entered the Court Room insecure. The case was heard. The Judge submitted his Opinion and Order. Justice adjourns in Civil Law. An abuse of discretion An error in Law I entered the Court Room insecure. Justice adjourns in Civil Law. ______________________________/ Sponsor: Juli- Michelle Contest Name Rhyme Battle: Round 4 Entry Date: March 09. 2014 Motif: Justice ~This is not a typical Villanelle. A villanelle can be atypical. This villanelle is atypical (not traditional 19 lines) because it has 22 lines (w/o spaces counted) but is perfect to rhyme scheme. Note: However, a villanelle needs no particular meter or line length, so I was free to experiment with the form. Villanelle is terribly obsessive and brings out the emotions of any neurotic writer. ~Please read About This Poem!~

Copyright © Verlena S. Walker | Year Posted 2014

Details | Dramatic Verse |

Son of a Woman

o my dear mother, please do not grieve on this tragic death
the death that your son has to under go

although, as a son, i had a strong affection for you dear mother
i hadn’t even once held your hands to comfort you, the hands 
were roughened and chapped from the toils and worries 

my affection toward you was never less worth than anything else
in the world, i couldn't show my affection because it was not the time 
for me to express my own feelings

nevertheless, since i am a son of woman
i became a lonely reed in the marsh when i stood by riverside
thinking of you, and when i was longing for you my beloved mother
the passing high wind struck and blew me down to earth

dear mother, many nights of miserable and lonely hours in the valley
i dreamed of you with sigh, many nights of cold and dark hours
in the wasteland i was thinking of you with tears

in the valley the rock was my pillow, in the wasteland the dews were
my quilt, and now, i am submitting myself to death as if i have 
reconciled with and unconcerned of it though i am afraid of dying

nonetheless, dear mother, i know your desperation;
when i knelt to earth and fell on the ground because of the weight 
of the cross that is too heavy to bear, you strove not to fall, but, alas,
all in vain, you have fallen on the ground with me holding the weight
of agony that is heavier than the cross i was carrying

for i never showed my passion that of a son to you
it is less painful to die on the cross than to watch 
your restless anxiety at there in a short distance

therefore though i am dying after the fulfillment of my tasks on earth, 
my heart is not easy to see your suffering, which is the mother to watch 
her own son’s persecution, the pain that only the mother 
can know

dear mother, please be healthy till 
the end of the day though your son dies by a violent death; 
dear mother, please live long and thereby the tears well up 
in your eyes, on one bright morning, turns to full of joy 
and flow into the river of everlasting happiness

dear mother, on the surface of earth
‘mother’ is the most affectionate, yet precious name of all i know
and therefore your lonely son’s last wish is to breathe my last breath 
in your tender caring bosom

nonetheless, look at john the disciple who i love stands by you
dear mother, he will take good care of you, he will be your son 
in my stead

o it is a torturous moment; 
the affliction is, o mother, more than i can bear

Copyright © Su Ben | Year Posted 2015

Details | Rhyme |

This Woman

I remember my teen years and the attitude I had.
I always said, “I’ll never let a guy hit me or treat me bad.”
The first time it happened, the first time I was hit;
I couldn’t believe he did that to me, it was bullshit.
I felt immediate pain, disrespected, and degraded;
feeling like my mind, heart and soul had been invaded
with anger, tears, and genuine disbelief,
quickly turning to confusion, terror, and grief.
I remember crying out “Why did you hit me?”
He was drunk and so angry, he couldn’t see
the tears streaming down my face and the pain so deep.
He just ignored me and went to the bedroom to sleep.
I stayed up that night replaying that moment
when he first beat me, like a drum…an instrument.

That was the beginning of an abusive relationship
in which I received bumps, bruises and a busted lip.
The shame I felt with a black eye and bruised cheek;
calling in sick to work for two days that week.
Returning to work with makeup caked on the bruise;
coworkers saw through the mask, they saw abuse.

I was only 21 with a secret I couldn’t tell.
My life with my boyfriend was a living hell.
What happened to that strong Chicana who didn’t take shit?
Where did she go?  Why was she getting hit?
He made me question the woman I had become.
Maybe I did deserve to be battered, maybe I was scum.
I thought if I learned to cook better meals,
stopped wearing sexy clothes and high heels,
if I looked down when we went out,
maybe, just maybe, he wouldn’t shout.
I feared his anger and rage
it was too much for a young woman my age.

How could I allow this monster to abuse me verbally and physically?
I had allowed him to strip away my pride, he controlled me totally.
I knew not how to escape from my new horrible life.
I was raised with a loving family, now all I knew was strife.
Even when I was seven months pregnant with our first child,
I was still being abused; a punch in the belly, that was mild.
The verbal abuse and hurtful names pained me even more.
I was called ugly, fat, slut, *****, and whore.
Each name and every slap or punch tore away at my heart.
I needed to leave, take my baby and go, but I didn’t know where to start.

The shame of being a battered woman was too much to handle.
If I confided in my family or friends, it would be a huge scandal.
How could I tell them that the strong confident girl was long gone.
I had become some guy’s doormat to be thrown and walked on.
I had lost my joy, my laugh and my smile.
I had become an abused woman suffering silently, yet in denial.
I thought I deserved the abuse; I didn’t make him happy, it was my fault.
Maybe if I lost weight and worked two jobs the abuse would come to a halt.
That didn’t work; he still beat me and cussed me out.
I knew he didn’t love me, there was no doubt.
I began to believe everything he told me…
He said I was disgusting, fat, and ugly.
He said no other man would ever want me and my children.
He told me I could never be attractive to any men.
I believed his bull*****and all of his bold faced lies.
My smile became a frown; gone was the sparkle in my eyes.

Fast forward my life, 26 years after the nightmare began.
Divorced for four years and living a happy life without that man.
I wish I’d known then, all that I now know.
Never settle for a man who’s abusive and love he doesn’t show.
If he doesn’t care and respect you from the start,
don’t allow that man any place in your heart.
Life goes on, the bruises fade, but the memories never do.
You can get away and find happiness by learning to love YOU!

Copyright © Cynthia Ozuna | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse |

I fear people

I fear people 
 People who are wearing colorful masks
 Hiding poisoned daggers in their casks 

I'm afraid of people 
 Whom over their head
 Carry the banner of benediction
 Then again at night 
 carry salt to rub on my abrasions 

I am afraid of people 
 Out of their mouths comes mesmerizing words
 An ax is what they are holding behind their swords
 Do you think they won’t break my trusting core?

I'm afraid of people 
 They lie and call it knowledge, 
 do evil and declare it courage.
 Their eyes filled with lust so foul

I am really afraid of these people
 I am so afraid that I crouch and hide in the cellar 
 People’s shadows are dancing on the wall 
 And I tremble and curl myself in a ball

I know it well
 I have to go and buy myself a disguise
 Plus a dagger dipped in malice 
 Shouldn’t I forget to secure a heart of stone 
 Tomorrow I will got to become one of these folks!

Copyright © Rahy Hy | Year Posted 2015

Details | Monorhyme |

A Woman Repaired

A battered woman in tattered cloths huddled beneath an oak.
Befuddled by the stranger’s gaze as he handed her his cloak.
Unwittingly, her lips curled up as her tangled hair she stroke.
Her pale blue eyes began to tear as she looked upon the bloke.

Her yesterdays were filled with pain for her spirit had been broke.
Each night she walked beneath the stars, tears flowing; she never spoke.
Without knowing, passers-by, would sneer at her cruelly and joke.
Her younger years still haunted her, the assaulting by men-folk.

Left for dead in her blood stained clothes, after hours she awoke.
Now, she cowers-down and slinks away even from her kinfolk.
And so she has lived since that distant time, cold, without a cloak 
Long ago in a frenzied daze, her engagement had been broke.

The gold upon her finger disappeared in a cloud of smoke.
Her memories of love and peace to that horror had been yoked.
Wild blue eyes painted well the scene; deadly terror did evoke.
And not one smile escaped her lips since her spirit had been broke.

That battered woman in ragged clothes drawn-up beneath the oak,
Surprised that someone cared enough and would share with her his cloak.
He reached for her with his soft skinned hands; smiling, he bespoke.
Come, my dear, and walk with me, a new ring to mend…our hearts broke.	

Copyright January 12, 2014

Copyright © Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen | Year Posted 2014

Details | Ballad |

I want to write

I want to write
This time of that cold night
when I heard my mother cry
When I saw her lie
Flat on her belly
Her back bare and scaly
Her eyes swollen
Her right stolen
By one she called husband.

I saw the tears
I saw her fears
she sobbed between the whips
she tightly bit her lips
And tightened her hips
to swallow the pain
just for her stay.

I want to write
this time of that night
that night without stars
when I saw the scars
On her back
the scars stuck
made a permanent mark
on her back.

I want to write
I want to write
This time of my mother
write her as a victim
tortured by male chauvinism.
write her as a strong woman
Who challenged the stress of a man
Mama who raised us
built us
Made us.

so rise mama and shine
All will be fine
Mama rise and shine
All will be fine
All will be fine.

Copyright © Griffins Ndhine | Year Posted 2015