Femme Poems | Examples

Femme Fatale

For you I’ll paint them red, she said
my lips my toes my fingernails
yet know I will remain unwed
it is the fate of most females

Abandon All Grace Here

I wore my sins like velvet lace,
Then set your garden all ablaze.
I never once said I was kind--
I only promised not to mind.

The chandelier you loved? It fell.
I laughed and called it “doing well.”
Your rules were quaint, but far too tight--
I loosened them with fire and bite.

Abandon all grace here, my dear--
The wine is sharp, the end is near.
The guests are ghosts, the cake’s a knife--
Let’s toast to your once-perfect life.

I dance in boots of shattered glass,
My lipstick’s poison, bold as brass.
The night is young, the mess is mine--
Now smile, love. You’re doing fine.

If you meet the right Femme Fatale

His mind was made up
Opinion unchangeable
Irreversibly fixed
Until he met a femme fatale
With wily tricks
He came around as easy as fiddle sticks

Midnight Blues

The trumpet cries beneath the neon glow,
a golden wail that haunts the hollow night.
The bass line walks where lonely spirits go,
its heartbeat steady, low and laced with bite.

Her voice is velvet, dipped in smoke and sin,
a lullaby for hearts too torn to mend.
She sings of love, of loss, of what has been,
each note a ghost that lingers to the end.

The whiskey sways inside a heavy glass,
the shadows dance like lovers, slow and worn.
Outside, the city hums—a world so vast,
yet every soul inside that room feels torn.

The music fades, but echoes never die—
a broken heart still sings beneath the sky.

Femme Fatale

she enters with a sly smile
red lips curling like the edge of a blade
she is the kind of woman you can't refuse
even as you sense she will undo you

her words weave like smoke
soft and shifting
they draw you close
until you lose sight of the snare

her face changes like the tide
one moment familiar the next a stranger
you never know who she will be
but she is always dangerous

her eyes move like shadows
slicing through the room
seeking her next prize
she takes what she wants
and she always wins

they whisper that she has killed
more than once maybe more than most
yet something in her holds you still
her beauty or her danger
or both

as she fades into the night
i feel her pull lingering on my skin
am i her next
would it matter if i were
because i cannot look away
from the woman who walks like a secret

ingenue

I'm not an 'ingénue' anymore - that’s been vitiated.
I'm not innocent, pure, naive or vulnerable -
which are technically, 'ingénue' requirements
(I don’t make the rules).

That being said, if no one has an objection,
in terms of narrative trajectory, I'd like to be
considered a 'fémme fatale' until further notice.
.
.
Songs for this:
HEATED by Beyoncé
Hysterical Us by Magdalena Bay

The Death of Merat

I leave the auction sick, my mettle frayed
A ghost, I fear, in oil clutched near my side
No doubt, a ghost for which I've dearly paid!
How best to next proceed, I must decide

The painting I have bought portrays a man
laid out upon a bed as if he sleeps
A woman stands beside the low divan
Offhand, I'd guess a mistress that he keeps

I recognize the bloke who's laying prone
A classless dog and local alley cat
His past and family folk remain unknown
but those with whom he spoke called him "Merat"

I peer more closely at the racy scene;
Beside Merat, a pool of crimson red
The woman's face is cool, if not serene,
quite out of place, considering the bed!

I take my time in staring at the girl,
and make an observation I can't bear
my hands begin to shake, the air to swirl,
for that's my naked wife who's painted there!

As I trudge home, it's hell that fills my head
and passing by a doorsill with a bin,
I tell myself it's I who will be dead
if I don't shove the dreadful painting in

My mind is blank as I bypass the stairs
and free from fear of my assassin wife,
I steer my thoughts past murder and affairs,
then pull her near and thank her for my life

Femme Fatale

The phone's ringin', gettin' louder and louder,
As it gets closer to her ear.
She rolls over, tryna clear the haze,
And sees a name she ain't too clear.
"Femme Fatale," it says, and she's confused,
Wondering who this person could be.
A text comes through from the same unknown,
Saying "agoraphobiac" in a message with a pic of her, but she can't see.
She's in a concert, with faces she don't know,
And wonders how she got there, in such a public show.
She never leaves the house, the blinds always shut,
But there she is, in places she's not.
Her body starts to rise, blood pressure high,
She screams in frustration, "Oh my!
Another crisis hits, and she's floating,
To the cabinet, arms and breath a-holdin'.
Last week, a bull was sleepin' in her tub,
The week before, she was beamed up in a UFO.
Her wrist is scarred, she's slaughtered before,
But the phone's ringin' still, more and more.
She rolls the other way, tryna clear her mind,
And sees a name that's all too familiar this time.
"Agoraphobiac," it reads, and she sighs,
Another crisis comin', she can't deny.

Bonne Journee De La Femme

Femme, dans mon calendrier
Chaque jour est ta journée
Tu es mon âme, mon pilier
Je te chéris tous les jours
Et je t'aime, mon amour.

Femme, ma chérie, ma beauté
Tu m'épates toute la journée
Tu occupes le centre de ma vie
Tu es ma princesse, m'amie
Tu es ma reine, mon envie.

Femme, cœur de mon âme
L'étoile de mon ciel et de ma vie
Tu es la poupée originale, mon entame
Tu es celle qui bouge, pousse et qui rame
Hou la la! Tu es une femme accomplie.

Femme, tu es indispensable
Mon ange, tu es délectable
La vie n'a pas de sens sans toi
Tu es mon âme, ma sève, mon chouchou
Tu es mon cœur, mon foufou, mon boubou.

P.S. Traduction de ' Happy Woman's Day' par 
Hebert Logerie

Copyright © Mars 2018, Hébert Logerie, Tous droits réservés
Hébert Logerie est l'auteur de plusieurs livres de poésie.

Femme Fatale

Agony of a broken heart
When will it ever mend?
Arrow shot a deadly dart
Blindsided I did not defend.

Betrayal was unexpected
Wonder, did I do wrong?
Sadly, he became infected
To female singing siren song.



Some broken hearts never mend
Poetry Contest
Sponsored
by
Faraz Ajmal 
25/02/2022

Femme Fatale

In my bejeweled night sky gleaming seamless, 
you glitter like the glowing full moon,
I soar in stardust on the wings of yearning
to get suffused with your sapphire hue.

In the rhythmic rhapsody of enticing wind,
the feathers of my fervent longing
flutter enthralled by the moonbeam of passion
within your halcyon halo mesmeric.

You make within my heart’s firmament
a turquoise pathway to glide away
across my somber sky as it crumbles and plunges
into a dark abyss filled with debris of despair.

In surging storm the sands of time blow ordained
in the parched desert of stark desolation,
the dunes of desire collapse disintegrated
in the cauldron of the crumpled heart.

As the cloud of gloom melts on the transit, 
and fills my desiccated oasis with tears,
I see the radiance of the blue moon pale
emit the last charm of ensnaring femme fatale.

______________

August 8, 2021
A Brian Strand 1094 Contest

Femme Fatale

A black widow spider spins a silk thread
into a near-transparent dream catcher;
filling her with joy, and her meals with dread.

A very cunning, deadly flycatcher
ready to pounce and mummify her food:
she lies in wait, like a body snatcher.

Any damaged web gets quickly renewed
with her sticky silk, resetting her trap:
so, struggling insects remain firmly glued.

She secures victims in a woven wrap:
ensuring they remain alive and fresh
until she sups: draining them of their sap.

Liquefying bugs, entangled in mesh:
she flaunts a scarlet hourglass belly patch
and fangs that inject poison into flesh.

Males must escape as soon as they detach,
for to this femme fatale, they're a fair catch.

Femme Fatale

I found my soul a mile away from where I left it last,
it lay in shreds on a bed of thorns to where it had been cast.
And no amount of golden thread could fashion it back together,
so, soul-less I must wander now these barren lands forever.

Along with it you took my heart and cast this too asunder,
leaving me bereft of feelings and little else to plunder.
But yet still you wanted more and robbed me of my pride,
and watched and laughed as tenderness and love inside me died.

One last act of selfishness from my head you plucked my eyes,
so I would never see love again, at least in female guise.
Twisting your heels into my dignity, you laughed and walked away, 
leaving behind the corpse of a man you had, then flushed away.

Flower of Carnage

[Paraphrase-translation of the song from Lady Snowblood.]

Bright dusk buried in snow
Only the sound of a baying hound
And my wooden geta break the silence
I stride with the weight of Heaven on my mind

I embrace these nights
My paper umbrella is more than it seems
I have walked this path of a woman's life
But my tears will not again
Damp the ground where I must go.

Ah, the winding river path
A path under lamplights
Cranes stand frozen in the weeping rain
Unable to move
My silhouette upon the ice of a frozen pond.

I show no emotion
There will be no more tears
The paper umbrella falls from the blade
I stride the bitter path of a woman
Dragging my heart upon this journey.

Rehearsal of Fatale La Femme

The tempest kiss of seaweed miss.
Her temper heard ~ his heart stirred.
     His ship astern and fast.
    The siren’s scorn lambaste;
Blind youth’s reality is blurred.

The satin hair of Whitney bright
A pearlescent veil, the tide ~
     Calm! Calm! It’s all a lie!
     Her body movement spry.
O serpentine witch, her smile, her glide…

          Her bright white fangs aglow, move slow.
     The magic of her song moored
In his terrified glance;
The seaman’s in a trance.
           In former life, he would have scored.

She slowly sucks his soul, and then,
One by one she tenders them.
The fishhooks through their eyes,
Amuse her with goodbyes.
           Rehearsal of fatale la femme.*

2/5/2020

*femme fatale order of words was switched to aid rhyme.
A poet’s prerogative:)

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