Best Weaker Sex Poems
Thank you, God, for making me a female,
one so strong, cheerful and alive!
The weaker sex? I guess! If being frail
can serve me, I will anything contrive!
A tire flat? Out of gas? I use
“femininity” when in a fix.
I do it oh so charmingly - this ruse-
used by clever chicks like politics!
Those that share my gender cast a spell,
and In our sex are pleasant aspects found.
In art of conversation we excel.
By friendship and by loyalty we are bound.
***** envy? Me? I like your plan,
I am happy not to be a man!
For the the What Makes You Happy old - new poem Poetry Contest
of Royal Ninja~
Forgive me Father for I have sinned
My actions have left me feeling chagrined
My fist hit his face, my knuckles skinned
Inner devil grinned, inner devil grinned
Because he deserved it, doesn't make it right
The remorse I feel, keeps me up at night
The anger inside bubbled and did ignite
My fist took flight, my fist took flight
I may be female, the weaker sex
High emotions makes me more complex
Only my words will now carry desired effects
This I truthfully vex, this I truthfully vex
I have never walloped anyone before
He baited me, I walked into his trapdoor
It won't happen again, this I implore
I'll punch no more, I'll punch no more
I vow to keep my inner devil at bay
Promises to myself I do not betray
If I get the urge to punch, I'll recall the replay
And duly walk away, and duly walk away
Sponsor ~ Drake Eszes
Contest Name ~ The Confessional
Why are men so frustrating?
Can't someone please tell me!
I've been trying to figure it out
for what seems like an eternity.
Why is it that men
cannot understand a womans thinking?
Sorry to be so sexist
but I expect it's
all that drinking!
I have figured out one thing....
It's why men have more strength,
It is simply just to compensate
for what they lack in length.
Now don't get me wrong,
I love a big strong man,
but only very occasionally
when I can't open a can.
Give me a man
with a high intellect,
give him a mission
of cooking for the family
and see what you will get.
Why is it that men
think they are superior
because they are 'men'.
When this ridiculous theory
has been disproved
time and time again.
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Nagging Women
Why is it,
can you tell me,
why do women moan?....
They do it so much
that I highly expect,
they also do it when they're alone!
Why is it that women
chop and change their mind?
If you see one that doesn't,
well, then you must be blind!
Why is it women
say yes when they mean no?
It's to see how quick
you men are....
if you're quick
or if you're slow.
Why is it women
think all men are wrong?
Because we're on a different
hymn sheet....
They're singing the wrong song!
Why is it for women
that nothing's ever good enough?
The truth is,
that's just rubbish.....
We just like to make it tough.
Why is it that women
are seen as the weaker sex?
It's because men can't
figure us out.....
Because we're so complex.
Patradoot The Messenger 44/
English version by Ravindra K Kapoor
Originally written in Hindi by my
Late father Dr. Amar Nath Kapoor
How he sleeps, O dear letter without even a cot and bed
Resting on a rough blanket, lying on the floor, and
Who pats him, when he faces such tortures of the Jail life?
When sleeps also does not come.
He must be eating there, the tasteless dry foods of Jail,
That too, without ever getting a chance to hear,
The affectionate words, which makes a food,
More delicious or tasty, when it comes from your love ones.
O, please tell this also to me, dear letter,
Does my husband ever remember his life companion and
Does his eye ever get wet, while remembering,
His dear wife, who is so much away from him.
What message my dear husband has sent?
Through you, O’ sweetest of all dear letter,
What teachings, he has sent through you?
To tell his loving wife, please tell me, O dear letter.
Do not think an Indian woman,
To be a weaker sex only, dear letter,
She may sacrifices her life, for the one,
Whom she makes her life partner, dear letter.
Ravindra to continue in 45..
Kanpur India 06th January 2011
Based on the true freedom struggle story of Dr. Amar Nath Kapoor
Protected as per Poetry Soup’s copy write protections
Note:
If any reader who is not a member of Poetry soup
Has any question or queries, they can
Send me an email on kapoor_skk@yahoo.com
Patradoot in Hindi was originally written by my late father
Dr. Amar Nath Kapoor around 1932, who was a freedom fighter.
He wrote Patradoot in Hindi, when he was kept in Faizabad Jail for quite
a long time. The Epic was written as a gift for my mother and it was
sent to her secretly from Faizabad Jail. He was imprisoned
by the British, as he was fighting for India's freedom
under the leadership of Mahatma Gandhi. He was imprisoned
many times during 1920 to 1947. After India’s
independence as a true follower of Gandhi Dr. Amar Nath
Kapoor left active politics and devoted rest of his life in
writing easy mass literature and wrote many Dramas,
Poetry books, epics. All his other literary
works were mainly written from 1955 to 1990.
He left this mortal world in 1994.
What is a wife but part of me.
Two made one by God you see.
A breathless love
A soothing calm
A sweet savor
A healing balm
A care that knows no place to stop
A drip of honey
A constant drop
A patience that has no end
No matter how the road may bend
A love so sweet no words can say
For which no riches ever could pay
Companion,lover,healer,friend
A helper always to the end
Though weaker sex supposed to be
Always stronger it seems to me
Advisor in times of trouble strong
Forgiving when I do her wrong
Words can never serve you see
To describe the woman God gave to me
But love for her that lives in me
Will be for all eternity
I Wanna Write a Poem
I wanna write a poem about,
how in God we trust.
About getting our piece of the pie,
and eating the crust.
I wanna write a poem about,
Opportunity knocking on your door,
and learning to be careful
what you wish for.
I wanna write a poem about
going to work and coming home alone,
and although you don’t know anyone,
you hope there’s messages on your phone.
About going out and meeting someone,
getting married having kids,
and wishing you were a lone poem.
I wanna write a poem about
people with a kind heart,
how God put you in their way
and them doing their part.
I wanna write a poem about
being in a room full of fine women.
Perfume in the air...
And the happy feeling I get
because my wife isn’t there...
I wanna write a poem about
Women, who really understand,
that men are the weaker sex,
and will perform on demand.
I wanna write a poem about
having no fear of the dark,
walking the streets alone
making it on our own.
And I wanna write a poem about
the homeless actually finding a home.
I wanna write a poem.
...
I wanna write a poem.
Most beautiful
body part.
Curved contour.
Perfect fit for
shape of hand.
Up front.
Proud and pleased
to be female.
Come hither
weaker sex.
Nipples soft.
Nipples hard.
Feed my child
big and strong.
Amazing breasts.
I could go on...
Imperial rose,
surrender not
embattled warrior
her temple protect,
enhanced by her love
queen of heaven,
star of the sea
the divine one,
spiritual committment,
evangalist free
where there is question-
there is doubt-
constructed mainly
of myth
fanatic madman
conceal truth
mad man made lies-
peppered the globe
"the sacrificed" holy war
Were you not the
true God - direct discendant
a madmans' disdain -
giver of life-not killer
this strong belief deep
spiritual inner
Jealousy, runs' rife
woman born with intuition
blessed diligently
barer of life
religious "madman"
"unholy fanatic"
artificial stimulant
(weapons) his choice...
stand over tactics
ruination of families
incapable performer...
...many no longer rejoice...
women leave you in droves
in search of safe happy homes
Roman imperial
blatant crusader
claim "holy war"-
Roman tyrant
man of violent mind-
perverse corrupt
time, power reduced discipline
church decree enforced sin
wrongful authority
mass destruction-
Mary-this religion
medieval sexism
the owl waits
these christian bigots
bend with hell
separate fact from fiction
sinners' truth unseen...
legend or story whenever
told, too dangerous to
reveal truth-
past soon align with future
mad man is edens beast
punnish woman for sexual
acts-
mad man weaker sex-
vile tormenter
these mad men
do not themselves
repent
global "nut jobs"
with out resolve
mad man jealous of women?
Mary, Jesus's favourite
disciple-peacemaker
inherit the earth
Jesus acknowledged
her self worth married-
or not,...
church incestial perverse
priesthood a crock
scriptures doctored
catholic lies
sinners in church hide
the question begs
men and woman
can they ever
be real partners?
sexual disasters?
while this truth? is
unclear, remains a
world alert-aware
unfounded unity
corruption too vile
history-angel
unforgiving self destroy
herstory yet to be revealed
the peices are fitting
mad man ruination, rulers of
nothing complete-
incomplete...
...this world crumbling...
...and all true love retreats...
Weaker sex we’re known and termed,
We are made idle like lexis
Without structure to construct sentences.
They treat us as infants for we’re fragile;
To rear offspring we’re considered fertile
’Tis then we would be teased as agile.
Stop creating professionalism based on agile from fragile,
We’re gifted as you are and fertile;
Blessed with abundant power and charisma!
Where were you when Moremi Ajaasoro
Persisted and resisted the threats of the Ugbo raiders,
She rebelled when many men trembled?
Where were you when Efunroye Tinubu
The great Amazon of Eko land, mutinied
Against alien plans of the colonial consuls?
Where were you when Iyalode of Ibadan
Overthrew the entirety of old-Ibadan land
Whilst men of complex cablire were used as luxury?
Where were you when Idia of Benin
Led many men to war against the Igala
And returned with victory to Benin?
We’re equally up to the task,
Still we’re agile and fertile as the past,
You’re on our path please pathway!
(In late June, 1914, Austria declared war
on Serbia, thus initiating the First World War.
In Paris, this was ignored, because Henriette
Callaux had been found Not Guilty. De
minimis non curat lex = "the law does not
extend to trivialities". Proust, in his novels,
wrote about his romantic affairs, but because
he was gay, had to feminise names, like
"Albertine". Boule de suif = ball of suet, the
French version, 100 years ago, of "babe".
7. Conclusion
And still, we label you the weaker sex!
Vienna drew the sabre on the Serbs?
Yes, but - de minimis non curat lex!
The crowds which crammed along Parisian kerbs
were there to cheer Acquitted Henriette.
She'd sobbed and swooned, and mooned and spooned, and won!
Her husband never placed a safer bet:
they even let her keep her little gun!
So, gentlemen, those terms diminutive,
those "ines" and "ettes" -- just leave them all to Proust.
Beware her underwear, where waits a chiv!
The merry widow's black, and home to roost!
When passion immolates you in its flames,
whenever pulses race, and blood runs high,
and (worse still!) you resort to nookie names --
my little chickadee, my cutie pie,
ma boule de suif, my little bit of fluff -
beware what's lurking in a woman's ****!
If Women
If the earth floats through the universe
borne on the back of a giant tortoise
it surely must be female
for the ride is smooth and silent
and rarely falters.
if women were the weaker sex
evolution would have stopped
in the warmth of primordial seas
eve would have remained a rib
god would not have had to invent her.
if women were truly the weaker sex
the earth would shriek
with the accumulation of their pain.
The bruises and burns
From her cooking and washing pots and pans
Her former hands, so dainty and soft
Have now become coarse and calloused
Scars from knives on her hands and her thighs
Cuts from slicing dicing and splicing
Several produce and foods to provide nourishment for you
Yet you disregard her efforts and don't appreciate her when due
Wives, daughters and sisters everywhere
We were always seen as the 'weaker sex'
But we rose and fought our best
To be admired and looked upon with respect.
We succeeded and made the world realise
That women aren't only knowledgable kitchen-wise
We have gifts talents, achievements and dreams
Which makes the world better more than. those can believe.
Happy Women's day to all my wonderful females
We are worth more than rubies and are as competent as the males
I'm proud of all of you for the battles you fought
Let your smile shine brightly like a beacon come forth.
Happy Women's Day
(Henriette hired Fernand Labori, the superstar
defence lawyer who had recently acted for
Dreyfus. Old and cynical, he advises her to
play on her sexy image.)
6. Fernand Labori
I've long since left off thinking of it thus.
It's putting on an act, that's all it is.
The ones who play it honest miss the bus.
You'll give it drama, colour, fervour, fizz.
A woman's always stronger than a man,
since men are tethered by the nether parts.
I'm sure you'll give it everything you can.
Your jurors are all men -- so break their hearts!
You have the looks, so hit them where they live.
You shot a man to death? The nation shrugs.
The only thing the French will not forgive
is if you're sexless. Let them see those dugs.
Admit it all, and argue crime of passion.
Oh yes, you took a gun, but meant restraint.
To win the women, wear the latest fashion:
to win the men, it helps if you can faint.
Just flash an ankle, watch them strain their necks.
(And still, we label you the weaker sex!)
The Weaker Sex
Blemishes appear
when innocence dissipates;
although considered
facetious and offensive,
the weaker sex bear the scars.
Woman’s Work
'A woman's work is never done',
How oft I've heard that call.
While men just sit down on their bum
Just waiting for their fall.
No wonder then, that over time,
Man's place has fell below.
For letting women do the lot,
Has left no place to go.
But women would refute the claim,
That they all rule the land.
They let the fellows still believe,
They have the upper hand.
But I'm the boss in my own house,
My wife grants that to me.
As long as I do what she wants,
And never disagree.
More perfect match was ever made,
Than woman and her man.
The weaker sex has all the things,
That make men what they am.
With smiles and tears and sensual ways,
They keep men in control.
While men just follow in their spell,
Like prisoners on parole.
Tethered by an inner wish,
To gain their woman’s praise.
And even when they use their tools,
It's women that appraise.
So think again if you may feel,
Men ever ruled the day.
Since Adam granted Eve's first wish,
Women have led the way.
But living in their shadow,
Is the nicest place to be.
For they're really lovely creatures,
And mine always makes the tea!
Ivor G Davies