Best Businesswomen Poems


Premium Member The Poor Little Black Girl

She sits on a street corner with a teardrop in her eye
Wishing she were in the cars of the people driving by
Her mother left with some john about two months ago
The man with the eviction notice didn’t care she had no place else to go

She carries in her small backpack everything she owns
The coming of the winter colds is in the winds that have blown
The bed she made on a City Park bench can comfort her no more
Her absences in the public school do not entice anyone to go looking for …

… the poor little black girl that nobody cares about

She has potential deep inside of her buried beneath the hunger pains
But nobody in this busy world recognizes what there is to gain
She is doing everything she possibly can to stop from turning tricks
But the only thing her mother taught her was how to hide the bruises from her kicks

The Styrofoam cup she holds out to strangers hasn’t collected any coin
People just leave her looks of disgust as if she is at fault for being forlorn
Shadows cast by the high-rise buildings grow longer with the setting sun
As commuters begin their journeys home she stands up in front of everyone … 

… and the poor little black girl lets out a booming shout

“I don’t do this because I want to; being abandoned was not my choice;
I tried quietly to ask for help – but today I will use my voice
I turned thirteen years old today – the anniversary of another girl’s mistake
Is it too much to ask for, just once, a piece of cake?”

 “You can pretend that I don’t exist; you can pretend that you’re better than me;
You can long for that future day when I am no longer here for you to see;
You can hate me and fear me and just turn your head the other way;
But you will see me again, sitting by our Father to hear your excuses come judgment day”

Businessmen and businesswomen stopped for just a minute
They looked around at one another not sure of the message or how to spin it
Then continued towards their taxis, subways, ferries and their cars
She stood alone after the sun went down beneath the twinkling stars …

It is up to you, now, to determine how this story turns out
© Joe Flach  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

Reverence On the Corporate Ladder

In our ever changing world it becomes more difficult
for women to flourish in business, because men view 
them as misfits, 

They try to deplete their power and
pride with familiarity, treating them as they would their
spouses, acting as if they are insignificant caretakers
of their houses and spawns,

Objects of their desires to be lured and discarded,
for entertainment purposes only,
Women's business accumen is rarely lauded,

The mens' behavior makes women feel inconsequential
and forlorn, causing them to doubt themselves and feel torn,

Intelligence and wisdom are never appreciated,
it threatens the male ego, so cleverness becomes
understated,

The men in corporate America would gladly
bury intelligent women beneath papers,
while they take all the credit and pursue
their capers,

God bless the women who have their own minds
and run interference in the nick of time,
for their deceitful counterparts would have them
looking like hysterical, flirtatious chicks,
discounting their talents and treating them 
as if they were uncivilized Hicks.

The Sociology of the Empress and Mrs Thatcher

An empress, or the wife of an emperor, 
Had great domestic power outright, 
Tremendous personal dictation over, 
Her dressing aids and fashion sight. 

She could criticise the food for happiness, 
Sleep with whoever servants she liked, 
Could advise on political appropriateness, 
In matters important, by her mate hiked. 

Businesswomen in the seventies sank, 
Found it hard to surface in a male world, 
Because they were going out with rank, 
Downing the empress’s domestic hold. 

So Mrs Thatcher changed my life straight, 
Enabled many women to lead and earn, 
By retaining their domineering weight, 
Whilst determining, managing to govern.  

I did not give to her my vote, I rejected, 
But I sure did appreciate her step, progress, 
The connection between empress selected, 
And the businesswomen without regress.
Form: Quatrain


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