Woman Anger Poems

Keep it up and you will see
All my sensibility
Lost along with lots of patience
Do not give me all this nonsense
And excuses for this act
Your about...

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Dear Bob,
It has been mighty long 
That I have licked my wounds and cursed your song. 
I wish you had warned me, Bob, 
That the...

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How dare you spit upon his garb! 
This peaceful bredda who by nature only loves, 
When you should have been his Rasta queen 
Your ghastly...

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Stories, stories that was told on to me,
"A woman so pretty, with her flawless eyes.
Soft lips, clear skin and her hair dancing tonight."
My reflection, grudgingly...

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To the other woman,
I am not mad at you.
What you see in him now,
is what he shows me yesteryear,
only one of us will weep upon...

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Howl, I said, roar at the moon
Reign I said, cast upon the land
Fill me with fury, feel me with greed
For I am the coursing blood...

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i can slaughter the girl i once was, but i must learn how to love the woman i have become.

i can eat my decomposing body,...

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I grieve for someone too lonely,
and that heart-broken one is me;
can I ever hold back tears and be strong?
Can I ever find comfort in this...

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"A dressed day has disrobed into the depth of a drawer's nightstand." 

(Oh, how positively awesome that what can be sorted out in such an...

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There was a shyster from Dallas
whose lies were full of malice.
	He groped the wrong girl
	whose anger unfurled. 
So now, they call him Alice....

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A woman who says my hair's a mess,
But won't give a comb, leaving it to stress.
Calls my man a friend or sugar so sly,
Ready to...

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He forgot our roots, from where those women came,
Raised by resilient black women, breaking trauma's claim.
Not a black , I stand as a black woman,...

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Who are you
Dan McGrew?
You sound quite mean
If rumours' true

You lodged yourself
Inside his head
Some seventy years
Still, now you're dead

A tale of love
Of bars and booze
The wheel...

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La llorona

 Oh La llorona,
 The spirits of your children weep for thee
 At the stump of the whomping willow tree
 Down by the same...

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Der Spiegel 

In Kashgar, where the Silk Road begins
I bought an apricot and saw a young 
Fidel Castro on a bike 
The woman who sold...

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