Feminism Poems - Poems about Feminism

I. THE WANDERING I was born with a life that bled— a seafloor womb dragging tides of fern and marigold char The priests brought saffron and fear crowning me with diagnosis They said: She is too empty They said: Fill her with figs with seed with stillness They said: Her belly speaks too loud Mute her O Plato old patriarch of phantoms my body was no beast— just prophecy you never learned...

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Every picture I’ve seen of you as a child, You wear your hair in plaits. A stern middle parting and two dark brown braids Falling down on each shoulder. A maypole’s dream. You would do your best to wash them when you could, When shampoo was available, Or even in the single, small bathroom. You would vigorously scrub your face too With...

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Mei ek naari hun.. Fir Kyun lagti sabko bechari hun? Jawab de dun palat kar agar- Kehlati ahankari hun.. Aur sar jhuka dun, inke liye- Mei sanskari ban jati hun.. Kehte hain- Samaj ka kalyan hoga Agar mei shashakt hun.. Jab aasman simit Krna ho Fir udna sikhate h kyun? Shaam der se ghar chal dun agar- Hath se nikal jati hun.. Jamaane ke sawalon ka- Mei Jawab de...

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Inspired by the USPS "19th Amendment: Women vote" forever stamp (2020) They stamped her face– like that could contain her fire. Purple, white, and gold– not colors, but warning, wrapped around a marching soul. She didn't walk, she moved like thunder– every step cracking silence, every breath remembering the women who weren't allowed to speak. They called her too loud. Too much. Too wild. But she was...

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the door is being knocked, For ages, it has remained closed Who is there? The Sun looks The Breeze Halts Tulips raise their heads in delight But the Cascade still flows on Humming like an indifferent Bee Knock - knock - knock How persistent the knocking is... But who comes calling? Through the peepholes, its light spills in The Valley enlightes with joy Old Cider tree opens its...

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They don't know my name. I keep it hidden between the folds of my skirt. They told me I had to wear it but they don't like that they can't see my legs anymore. I keep it hidden in the bows holding my pigtails together. They don't know my name. I'm my father's daughter, my brother's...

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Mirror Mirror everywhere Large Small and Pale None it spares from the critiques of its glare Mirror, Mirror, it Surrounds me from everywhere Like Im in a mirror maze, growing inside, in layer Waiting for my death, I am stranded there Quietly it creeps upon me, taking thousand form Pieces of my few thousand years, becomes the norm Where should I run?...

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providers mothers provided homelessness to get a job and now walk the streets, terrorizing men what do we do well you kill people so you can go shopping it is called shopping addiction and little boys and girls who you hate die in the receipts of your smile you don't see, but we get abused by the freedom we have as you grow and multiply the fat gross arms...

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“A fight of voice exceeds one of fists.” Bludgeoned, broken, cast away, Time devours, your name decay, Ascend beyond the gilded throne, Unsung, unrested, still overthrown. Happy Women's History Month!...

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In 1894, Annie climbed on a bike Told the doubters to take a hike Planned to cycle cross the planet, found sponsors, took a gun Though she died 50 years after, her legend had begun. How much is embellished, it's hard to say, She used steamships to bridge gaps along the way. But thousands of miles she rode alone, While today's rebels...

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Keep not her voice— Let. It. Echo. Free. Watch her unfold— Oh, how GREAT she will be. She will rise to the top— Shining, smiling, and full of glee....

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It is her body by God, so they say, But by man and by rite, she belongs to him. The contract, black and white swirls, binding, signed in ink that bleeds into chains. He takes her as he pleases. The decision is not hers to make. Face buried, held by the ringed hand, pressed into the pillow to smother resistance. His knees split...

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Feminism an idea, Not so new. But its existence in society, In reality is very few. Everyday with evils, She has a fight. She does so to make, The purpose of her life right. For every step she takes, She’s obliged to answer questions. But on her...

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The dark rooms of my mind take me to a new place every night, This place beams of sunshine, with beautiful sight. This feeling is indeed real, but far from reality, Still, this place thrives my personality. This is a dream, but I did not choose it, it chose me, It is a new era in a different country, Where it...

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Feminism not a cause for the season not a “select”…only not a choice to adorn….”esg” not a biscuit to crumble…stale not a tick in the books not to bat away like a gnat not to wash away…a sandcastle not for a cause…far far away not in the land of a female monarch not one queen, more than one not witnessed…anywhere else A graveyard of...

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