Best Girlhood Poems
EIGHT
A deliberate surprise
A shove from the back
while creating artwork
in my second-grade class
Perhaps an ocean scene
A distant angry memory
of my eight-year-old
consciousness
The broken waxy blue crayon
in my right hand
Before me the ripped orange
construction paper and
a scattered image
Girl bully momentarily
reigned behind me
her face encircled with
frantic spirals….
a golden mane
My neck flashed heat
and then a cold sweat
I challenged her to a fight
In the girl’s bathroom
that day
Pale turquoise tiled walls
screamed at me
as I entered the ring
Staring up I saw a field of wilting flowers….
wads of scrunched up soapy paper towels
hurled up at the ceiling where they clung and
appeared as corpses threatening to fall down
on me at any moment
The pungent thick air of girl
bodies surrounded me….
A hungry lion appeared with
open mouth ready to strike
Tightly wrapped around each other
A blur
A blow to my right side
A second to my stomach
Descending to my knees
catching my breath
Rising up I landed an efforted
blow on her left cheek
An explosion within her wild
starving eyes filled with
superpower magnetism
The pounce
The strike
My body collapsed…
the blue tiles hugging me
Sounds of silence
Distant voices of teacher adults
dispersing the crowd
Inside the small stall
crumpled body crying
on the toilet seat
head on my knees
salty tears cascading
Tasting them now
With armor and shield
bleeding …dented and broken
my heart and soul
rejoiced
While sighs arose from dried marsh and clay,
the girl in me embraced an amiable virtue
born out of an affinity for our town’s revelries :
Oh those bouncy play with cousins
when burnt dusk kindly taught me
the wisdom of moon’s varied phases, fables,
then a soul tamed through older clans’ demise
as this ancient realm became a night keeper,
leading me unto stages of womanhood
Today, I am older, perhaps more dauntless…
yet nostalgia seeps into these heavy eyes
where youth’s indulgences
are now gone, damp, acrid...
A bushfire searing our farmstead
like cinder on my hands bolstered my spirit
Though parish bells knell afar,
long gazes of abode ‘s remnants tear my flesh,
mirroring portraits of youth epiphanies
which now mold my present life's outlook…
a kind resolute amidst triumphs and hurdles.
Brian Strand’s Completely Your Choice 17
~ format and spelling of ' girlhood edited
due to bad internet
9/27/2020/em>
The girl, so young, with dreams so wide,
The girl, she laughs, she loves, she cries,
The girl, in this world, finds her way,
The girl, through life, learns day by day.
The girl, with heart, so full of grace,
The girl, she'll find her special place,
The girl, in time, will bloom and grow,
The girl, her spirit, will always glow.
The girl, with strength, she'll face her fears,
The girl, through trials, will shed her tears,
The girl, in her eyes, holds the sky,
The girl, with hope, will learn to fly.
The girl, she realizes, with wide-eyed glee,
That girl, that teen, oh, it is me,
It's you, and her, and every soul,
In every heart, she plays a role.
In every laughter, every tear,
In every hope, and every fear,
The girl, a mirror, reflecting true,
The strength inside, the world anew.
So cherish her, this girl in you,
In every shade, in every hue,
For in her journey, we all unite,
A tapestry of dreams, so brilliantly bright.
Oh, this girl, she's more than youth,
She's love, she's courage, she's simple truth,
In every teen, the world can see,
The boundless possibilities, that girl is me, is you, is we.
Hours in the mirror,
For her first date awaits;
By all laws abide
27/06/17
Copyright © All Rights Reserved
i will write haiku
so that my big feelings don’t
take up too much room
i know well enough
silence wields no rejection
so i stay silent.
the feminine urge
to scream like a wounded beast
but i just say no.
i am seventeen
my mere age is poetic
just like a haiku
to be six again
is what the sky hears when i
wish upon the stars
i sleep and i dream
so many things left unsaid.
in sleep, we made peace
solitude my friend,
would you tell me if I was
meant to be in love?
love me tenderly
i asked, instead you left me
tender like a bruise
you were the wrong one
to give all my love to but
maybe you need it.
oh give me guidance
what do i do with this heart
that just falls apart.
god, when did i start
writing poetry like this
about you again?
Old
lattice
of brown vines
loosening their grasp
from a cracked dwelling-
Nearby, I trace
sweet girl's years
bouncing 'round
trees
I fear I'm not enough,
A young girl's quiet doubt,
In this world so big and tough,
I wonder what it's all about.
I worry I can't measure up,
To expectations high and strong,
But I'll keep trying, never give up,
Even when things seem so wrong.
I'll take small steps, one by one,
Learning as I go, you'll see,
In the end, I'll find the sun,
And be the best that I can be.
In shadows of the night, I ponder deep,
Why does this emptiness inside me creep?
I'm just a girl, lost in this vast sea,
Searching for answers to set my soul free.
The world whirls by, a chaotic race,
But I stand still in this empty space.
I wear a smile, but it's just a mask,
Hiding the questions I dare not ask.
Why do I feel this hollowness within?
Is it the world's noise, or some secret sin?
I long for meaning, a purpose to hold,
In this story of mine, yet untold.
The days go by, a relentless stream,
And I chase dreams, like a fleeting gleam.
But they slip through my fingers like grains of sand,
Leaving me empty, like a forgotten land.
Perhaps it's the journey, not the end,
That fills our hearts, my dear friend.
I'll keep on searching, I'll never stop,
For the answers lie within, at the heart's workshop.
In the quiet moments, when stars above,
Whisper secrets of the universe's love,
I'll find the solace, I'll find the key,
To unlock the mysteries inside of me.
So, in this quest, I'll bravely tread,
Though the emptiness lingers in my head,
I'll write my own story, and make it sublime,
And fill this void with the sands of time.
In a world that says I must be pretty,
I struggle with doubts, it isn't easy.
They want me to change, inside and out,
But why can't they see what I'm about?
I study hard, I do my best,
But still, I feel I'm not like the rest.
Insecurities fill my mind,
Wondering if I'll ever find
A way to be just who I am,
Without changing for a silly plan.
There’s a person living in my skull
But she once loved life out here
She would run around for hours
Kicking dust and chasing fear
There’s a person who existed
Used my body for her games
She would laugh and play for hours
She’s since seen some better days
And sometimes I think I miss her
Though I know she’s still kept close
She hides away in darkened corners
Oh how the vines of time have grown
Child, please I know you’re in there
Help me laugh and play once more
I long for running and for freedom
The ability to just ignore
There’s a person resting in my head
She is me but I’m not her
I’ve fallen in, forgotten how to tread
Without the innocence of a girl
In your embrace, I wish to be,
Bound by love, yet feeling free.
No chains of doubt, just hearts entwined,
In your love's garden, I long to find.
Your smile, a sunbeam in my day,
In your laughter, I want to sway.
With every breath, with every beat,
In your love, my soul finds its seat.
In simple words, I want to say,
With you, I want to find my way.
No need for grand or fancy lines,
Just your hand in mine, forever entwined.
This 30th of November,
I can be dragged down by
men
that I loved. And they feel no guilty
I’m caged in maturity.
A little girl tugs my fuchsia leg-split
“Tear it or tear down”.
Fear
of getting lost
Neverland
with a waggish Peter Pan
makes promises and never brings
or the world’s much like flame
in sin where men are hell king.
In a little town, where stories flew,
Lies and whispers, oh so untrue,
People gossip, secrets they betray,
Drama's stage, where troubles play.
Fingers point, friendships break,
Trust gets lost, for goodness' sake,
But let's choose kindness, let's be wise,
In truth and trust, our spirits rise.
In this world of tales and games,
We'll shine bright, not play those shames,
With honesty and love, we'll see,
Gossip's grip will set us free.
life’s a rush,
and i’m in the middle of it.
sixteen—
they call it the flower of youth,
but honestly, i just feel like
my roots pushing through stone,
small, stubborn,
aching for light
in a world too heavy.
the clock runs faster than me.
classes, books, exams,
every note i take feels like
a brick i’m laying
for some future house
i don’t even know the shape of.
my mind is hungry,
i feed it every day.
words, poems, philosophers,
all the questions nobody dares to ask out loud.
i’m trying to make myself
into something solid,
while still soft enough
to feel everything.
sometimes it’s beautiful
the thought that i’m blooming,
that every word i write
is a petal unfolding in silence.
sometimes it’s terrifying,
what if i bloom too late,
or bloom wrong,
or the world never even notices i grew?
and still, i run.
sometimes without knowing
where the finish line is.
but maybe that’s the point,
that life isn’t about the answers,
it’s about the rush,
the blooming,
the daring to grow
while time refuses to slow down.
and maybe, just maybe,
one day i’ll look back
and see that all along
i wasn’t just running—
i was becoming.
She saw see-saw sport, her girlhood days glare in mind, she longed for those days.