Best 'Girl Poems
An ember sparked will softly glow,
and fed by fuel, will grow and grow.
I once was cinder, sparked by you,
first timid. . . till the flames then grew.
And so our start was touch of dawn,
with amber hue, for I was drawn
to eyes so welcoming and warm
I never guessed you’d do me harm.
Like morning glory, love in June
the rapture of mid-afternoon,
romance of which the ancients wrote,
our passion had no antidote.
And with the dusk, though scarlet tinged,
our love began to come unhinged,
for clouds arrived, which filled your eyes,
extinguishing bright twilight skies.
With cold of night came shadows’ pall,
and I could not tear down your wall.
By midnight’s hour, the fire was dead.
Mere ashes smoldered in its stead.
You left, and should you reappear,
I’ve vowed to shun you. Now I fear
the very thing for which I yearn -
one touch. . . and then again - to burn.
I play like a girl, I hit like a girl
You say I throw like a girl,
And when I run -- I run like a girl!
All that plus more, enjoy this one-size-fits-all
Who and what I want comes from being strong
Classy and fabulous, this is my song!
I've been told, cut to size
The world is dark and gray when life becomes an insult
Take heed when I speak my mind,
I am tough, outstanding, and beautiful!
Move ahead --- say it twice, I smell nice
A taste of Cool Water and Justice Perfume
I have a non-stop multitask fixation
As a woman, everything about me is hidden
Magic and alluring are the only joy you'll need
I'm empowered at this moment!
Endorsing Myself, with a certain sorta mystique
I deliver an independent will,
Don't ever underestimate my physique
I am a caregiver, a female who won't give up the fight
I remain firm and believe all women have equal rights
I walk and talk Like A Girl
Wearing heels breaking the sounds of Wedding Bells
I am, Mona's unforgettable smile, standing tall Like Miss Liberty
I am, Betsy America's #1 designer, I am you and full of life.
The sound in your eyes isn't listening!
You imagine I am weak -- not strong enough -- brave enough,
You call me different and difficult!
Still, you want my warmth -- my love -- my attention
I am not less, I am more
I am a woman -- I frown -- I cry -- I hurt and yell at the universe
Nevertheless, I make a difference, like a girl, I smile
A smile, never seen or felt before, both defined and undefined
Your heart will ask and implore for more
Like a girl, I'll drive you wild, looking pretty "You're In Love!"
My Self-confidence comes from who I am deep inside
Everything I've become follows the makeup on my face
Bare and nude, I am the Madonna flowering the mood
At the end of every day, I have one other thing to say
The Next Time You ask me to cook and clean
Because you think, I belong in the kitchen
You better believe I'm doing it my way
LIKE A GIRL
POTW 1 Oct 2018
Gossip about her
swept the school yard through
“Hey if you’ve got what it takes
There’s this girl named Sue
For a pack of smokes
or a drink or two
She’ll kiss you ~ she’ll please you
like no other girl can do”
Her fuchsia glossed lips
Matched the colour of her hair
Her legs went on forever
She had a self-assured flair
He yearned for those baby blues
to stray his way
How did the cool guys snare girls
come what may?
Dreams on his pillow
a teenage fantasy
Were seconds away from becoming
a manly reality
She promised to meet him
in the park one night
Two packs of Marlboro’s
Under the pale moonlight
A brief kiss on the lips
then as she swiftly turned to go
He yanked her back hard
and as she fell to the floor
A fantasy was shattered
Hopes tossed away ~ abused
Feelings of rejection
Cast aside and confused
He lived in an era
Where double standards
were applauded
Girls were shamed
For going all the way
Boys rewarded
However integrity
doesn’t stoop to lows
no need to impress
Head high as he walked
it was not worth the stress
The journey was his ~ along this untrodden road
Tomorrow ~ todays rejection would be yesterday’s episode
Every step away from her was a gentle elixir
Then came her words on the wind ~ barely a whisper
‘Hey ~ I’m a virgin too ~ and a skank I’m not
They sully my name and my character they blot
The smokes are for my mum it eases her pain
And for my sick Ma I’ll do this again and again’
Continued in 'Tears on her pillow'...
~ A Storybook Princess ~
She dreams of princes, princesses and balls
A little girl on tippy-toes, not a meter tall
O, the frilly lace gowns she fashions
Stitched with threads of heartfelt passion
A little girl in dreamland enthralled
Daylight's full of pain, tests and probes
From her lower spine to her temporal lobe
Hair shorn, she bears it all with infinite patience
As they wheel her from station to station
For at night she's a storybook princess
No matter that in daylight she winces
Asleep, her bed's her castle, wedding-bell topped
Where dreams last forever, never stop
Entered in 'All Yours (Feb. '21) Contest
Sponsor: Brian Strand
I wish to claim
My boyness
My yesterday sillyness
Innocent shyness
My crinkled nose grininess
That hide and seekiness
Spin the bottle
kind of geekiness
Getting caught
My hand in the cookie jarness
That pushing too farness
Collecting comic charminess
Pulling pigtales
Stolen kisses
Hidden playboy kinda business
Cop a feel inquisitiveness
Being a bit
Self conscience
A true life witness
Loving the mysterious
Laughing more than being serious
Feeling delirious
Not afraid
Somewhat curious
Wondering
About adultness
What it was all aboutness
Thinking that it leads to freeness
I'd know just how to be-ness
Eating what I want
Staying up late kinda keeness
Now I wonder
What was the rushness
To reach adultness
Full of it's doubtiness
What's it all aboutness
I witness it's dreamlessness
It's no longer about me-ness
More mundane
To much saneness
Routine and sameness
No one cares if you cameness
Less is less
And more is moreness
Can't see the trees
Through the dark forest
So grab onto your girliness
I'll bring my boyness
There will be more
Way more
Yesirey
Hotdigity
Joyousness
No more boringness
We'll spin in circles
Enjoy our dizziness
After all
Having fun
Is a serious business!
For Nina Parmenter’s Tongue Twister Contest.
I hope you have as much fun reading as I had writing it.
Girl, Interrupted-
Deep cuts from within.
She faced bravely the many hardships of womanly life
How did she end up like this?
Severe depression after her first mental breakdown
Sorrow oppressed what was willed
At present in the parallel universe,
Never aware of the world left behind
She will catch a brief glimpse of this world
---where everything is different.
Losing the veil in which includes time,
Aging without caring death awaits!
Her different personality replaces reality
Things appear normal in her eyes.
Although captivate in her own mind,
She feels this is freedom.
Being heavily burdened--
Every day she stares into different mirrors,
Smiling in her bipolar face
Without knowing insanity put her mind at ease.
~*~
7/24/13
Sophie Scholl was raised a Christian in a Lutheran family
Born in the town of Forchtenberg in south west Germany
For standing defiant against evil with her young life she'd pay
In a country that was in deep turmoil and had lost its way.
She was a young teenager in nineteen thirty three
When a new leader offering hope, emerged in Germany
Adolf Hitler was an Austrian, who came to power
And for many it was the start of their darkest hour.
To unite the German people the Nazis held rallies
In some of the larger towns and all the big cities
But something dark and sinister was taking place
The evil Nazis were plotting to create a master race.
All the youth were encouraged to join an organisation
Hitler youth they were known all over the nation
Sophie and her brother together, with some of their friends
Turned their backs on the movement and vowed to make amends.
Word was getting around about death camps and persecution
Together they decided to form, a small non violent organisation
Known as the 'White Rose' who urged the people to renounce Hitler
They handed out leaflets telling the truth, about the Nazis slaughter.
One day at Munich University where Sophie studied as a student
She was seen distributing leaflets on what Nazi ideology meant
A janitor intervened and confronted her, and wouldn't let her go
She was arrested and then handed over to the notorious Gestapo.
They interrogated her to find out, who her accomplices were
But she wouldn't give them their names, as they tortured her
They charged her with high treason and sentenced her to death
To die by the guillotine and the date of execution was set.
They executed twenty one year old Sophie for making a stand
And they had accused her of being a traitor, to the fatherland
They eventually captured the others, five of them in all
And they too walked to their deaths standing proud and tall.
It’s people like Sophie who want to make the world a better place
And not supporting some twisted ideology like a master race
The Nazis were eventually defeated and their leaders tried
But not before Sophie and millions of other innocents had died.
Written 15th May 2021.
--Virginia Slim--
Different eyes, the same world
Ancient skin, dirty Indian Girl
Smokey, eyes, exotic raven hair
---Now listen to the colors, of transformation,
On the day she was born, the wind blew in,
A blessing ---her soul, fallen from the heavens
A gorgeous puff of smoke, Miss Virginia Slim
Able to walk the world with an open mind, she twirls
Pocahontas, one of her many names.
She carves, and climbs on trees, this little Indian Girl,
Her feathers ride with the wind, against her red titian skin
Daughter of Chief Powhatan, a powerful tribal, red man
Peace and love with the Indians of her Virginia Lands,
Many myths, many stories, maybe a mad woman,
A new Christian, living sad poverty, a silent hero,
Twisted tales, from savage green to ivory white religion
In her eyes, life never was about greed and skin
Her new look attained an altitude precision
Pocahontas tricked and captured,
Set to sail another tribe, lands were taken over,
Boat sailed out of Virginia Lands
Tribes acclaimed her to be wild and ambitious
"The naughty one," searching for admission
Native American child, before the princess,
Her beautiful soul, a short auspicious beginning
Leaving her world, beautiful and fearless
Forgetting her roots-- From Mother Willow's Vision
Pocahontas, the Indian Legend from, The Virginia Lands
by;PD
I'm leaving now, but here is a reminder
'Twill bring to you the days we walked through rain
So when you wish to feel my hand in yours
Or stroke your dripping hair-- Then kiss the rain
Though leaving now, I wish I could be with you
So when you feel o'erwhelmed with grief or pain
And long for my caress upon your face,
The rain will touch instead-- So kiss the rain
Whenever you have tho'ts of this sad parting
And salty tears your lovely cheeks do stain
To feel the tears for you I'll surely have
Do this, and I will too-- Go kiss the rain
Whenever you are longing for my presence
And times that we went strolling down the lane
I'll whisper soft endearments on the breeze
So heed the sighing wind-- And kiss the rain
If ever you should pine to hear me speaking
The thunder might burst forth with glorious main*
While drops that fall are sure to be my tears,
To feel them wet your skin-- Just kiss the rain
* Power or Force
Porcelain doll, with a face so pretty
a country gal, ran away to the city
Worked in a bar, dancing on tables
beat shovelling sh-it, in Pa’s stables
Looks for love, but only finds bums
lowlife gamblers, in rundown slums
Go back home
not a chance
One day soon
find romance
Porcelain doll, life’s becoming gritty
rent’s due, ain’t nothing in her kitty
All knocked up, mascara streaking
bloodshot eyes, skin’s unappealing
Sleeps in the pines, winter it snows
crystallised tears, angel eyes froze
Barely alive
baby’s dead
No way back
no warm bed
Porcelain doll, face’s the committee
lunatic asylum, nobody shows pity
Shock treatment, four hourly dose’s
prison guard lesbians, with halitosis
broken doll, made one bad decision
they chipped her head, thin incision
Eyes don’t blink
stare at space
No expression
just a doll’s face
By
David Kavanagh
I See You, Flowers In Your Raven Hair
I see you, in flowery meadow scenes
walking, your blue dress swaying in the wind
your raven hair, beautiful stuff of dreams
and promise, deepest love that never ends.
You see me, with my old pen scribbling so slow
words that poetry absorbs with loud bells
echoing soft tunes shot from heart's love-bow
birthing sheer joy as the oracle tells.
I see you, flowers in your raven hair
coming back, your delicious smile beaming
saying, yes dearest love, I truly care
Fate has decreed our eternal teaming.
You see me, with my old pen scribbling so slow.
Echoing soft tunes shot from heart's love-bow.
Robert J. Lindley, 6-25-2019
Sonnet, ( Where Dream Waves Meet Love's Welcoming Shores)
Note:
Found a moment pen called to dare,
walk from deep dark into that brighter light,
wake again this soul, to its past love bare,
in poetic truth, this life try to repair.
This girl, she's crying inside,
But all everyone sees is smiles,
This girl, she's hurting inside,
She's lived like this for quite a while,
Always holding her pain inside,
She won't ruin everyone's time,
This girl, she's breaking down inside,
But all she does is smile,
Those deep eyes,
Hold a lot world of misery,
Playing pictures from her mind,
Showing her past, her history,
She doesn't want to remember,
But the memories continue to play,
Every night she prays,
Wishing them away,
But this girl lies with her laugh,
And hides behind a mask,
So that no-one can see her pain,
Her past, her denials,
This girl, she's dying inside,
Although no-one can see her pain,
She just continues to smile bright,
From day to everyday,
With beautiful lying eyes,
For everyone to see,
Everyone and anyone,
Everyone but me.
It was a rainy day so I flipped through a stack of comics
My Amazing Poet series
Finally I picked the fabulous Five
I liked the picture on the front
Yanny the Zen Master with long black hair
Becca the Creative and Beautiful with her mythical pen
One of my favorites sultry Eileen known as the Emotionator
Anne the Philosopher was right there beside Eileen with her magical smile
Then to round out this team was Vicky Victorious calling from the wilderness
In this edition they were battling the Poet Destroyer and Joker Jack
who had kidnapped Newbie Timothy Hicks
As I read their words I was in awe of my Heros
They made me cry
They brought me to new worlds
Filled with adventures
Sexy had new meaning
Tears became diamonds
Winds swirled inside my head
All the emotions of the rainbow
I longed to write with such clarity and strength
I tried to flex my poetic Muscles
Worked out every day
Then on the back of the comic
A scrawny poet sat on a beach
Beside the girl of his dreams
He is writing for her when along comes a muscular poet
The big poet kicks metaphorical sand in his face
The the scrawny poets girl is whisked away
Underneath it says
Are you tired of having Metaphorical sand kicked in your face?
Are other Poets getting the girl?
All that can change
Join the Andrea Dietrich School of Creative Poetry
She will have you writing like The Fabulous Five
You will never be afraid to flex those poetic muscles again
So I cut out the back page and sent my five dollars
The address is PO Box 88888 Inspiration California
Now all I can do is wait
What will the future Hold?
Note there are many Poets here who would appear in my vast Amazing poet series.
Poet Destroyer and Joker Jack are not Evil nemeses they were chosen for the roll
because of their names( also I love their work.) I hope you enjoyed my little tale.
Some of the younger poets may not be familiar with the Charles Atlas ads that used
to be on the back of comics, the rest of you I am sure will get the joke.
~
She stood amidst the tropic breeze
the girl with blue Aruba eyes
Between the fruiting mango trees
neath pastel sunset shimmered skies
Meandering this summer’s eve
we stroll the shoreline hand in hand
Where lemongrass and grottos weave
and footprints wander in the sand
Alone this twilight paradise
as moonbeams glow on suntanned skin
Melodic turquoise waves entice
a seaside romance to begin
When here on dampened shore we kiss
my heart it beats in whispered sighs
Her beauty is my island bliss
the girl with blue Aruba eyes
~
Since it is winter, I thought I’d take a poetic trip to the tropics
Care to join me
Alone the bones of the room
bear no weight of responsibility
nor does it bare its breast of secrets
a broken pane
provides a breath with a pang of lavender
a wistful inhale
inhabits the lungs of this space
as the room tries to embrace...
oh embrace the breathing breeze
to squeeze a semblance of life into this place
but the breeze— a gypsy whisper-warm
needs freedom to come in and sweep
sun-dust into swirls of pinprick-stars...
then to go not beholden to bones
stoic and standing still
not beholden to dust stranded midair
only to fall in despair— abandoned
with less a good-bye
as bygone laughter and lullabies
are held on lath-tongues
behind horsehair plaster walls
but mute memories
mingle in dust like fireflies in dusk;
her suckling coos
the woe of rocking chair nights
hot plashes of mud-puddle tears
—a colored canvas that minions of time
would rather gesso white
in its bones the room
remembers its worth as a womb
nurturing a baby’s breath
beneath blue-skin-skies
where rows of purple spires grow
till Mistral winds blew hard and cold
and flew her lavender soul
far from home
oh the loss of life
wind-crashing-seas-onto-rocks—
loss of life
skeleton-ribs-of-the-crib
stripped-of-her-lavender-sprig—
loss of life