THE RICH AND POOR
THE RICH MAN IS AN ALCOHOLIC
THE POOR MAN IS A DRUNK
THE RICH BOY IS EMOTIONALLY ILL
THE POOR BOY IS A PUNK
A RICH WOMAN IS MENOPAUSAL
A POOR WOMAN IS CRAZY
A RICH MAN RELAXING IS TIRED
A POOR MAN RELAXING IS LAZY
SO JUDGEMENTAL WE ARE
SELF RIGHTEOUS AND WITH NO CLUE
THE BEST PERSON THAT YOU CAN BE
IS DEEP INSIDE OF YOU
HIDDEN AWAY FROM THE WORLD
TOO ADFRAID TO BE KNOWN
WE ARE SO AFRAID OF BEING ALONE ©
Younger men seem to admire a full bloomed flower,
A woman with experience, grace and power,
He is drawn to her domination,
She gives him inspiration,
Her potency is like aged wine,
most young woman are still buds, on the evergreen vine,
Her confidence allures him, her mystery intrigues,
Subconsciously, she fills a void or a need,
Whereas the woman feeds on his infancy,
It brings forth her youth and consistency,
She feels greater affection, adoration and attention,
Even if it is her, that has the comming pension,
His stamina and capacity,
Brings forth a refreshing elasticity,
Fulfilling her appetite,
As they dance into the twilight.
She becomes renewed,
Her countenance glows,
Letting others see,
what they may not know,
A voyage, exploration,
with mutual sensation,
This new type of love,
A doe and his dove.
By: Sabina
25 April 2011
It dose not matter if a man is blind
He will notice a woman every time
The scent of perfume in the air
The click of heels the swish of her hair
Hormones smoking from every pore
Lets him know she is at the door
A religious man these things he'll suppress
But still turn his head at the sight of a dress
Man is the head of his household
But it is by woman he is controlled
This all has purpose all men drink this chalice
It is one of Gods ways to keep us in balance
A woman I met in a very sad way was lamenting her role as a wife
Her man had left, she took up with another and when she chose love she chose life
Another young woman I have known, choosing a man was her goal in life
Soon she will catch her prized man and thru their love will have found life
A man I met had this to say. he was full of stress and strife
A person can gain wealth and power but when you have lost love love you have lost life
carmine
A man is never happy until he truly dies,
Only in a man's dreams is he free,
A man without a woman is tethered by truth,
A man with a woman is comforted by lies.
Labels, 2010
V. Ortiz Vazquez
Girl, teenager, young adult, woman
Hispanic, Latina, Puerto Rican
Sister, aunt, godmother
Lesbian, woman of color
How important are these labels?
Why use them to define myself?
Better, use to be boxed within brackets
Brackets many times use to oppress me and those a like
Box me
Reduce at time, close to nothingness
Trap within groups
Recycling stereotypes, unfairness
Idiotic
Other times, forgotten
I am a woman
A Puerto Rican woman that is
I am a daughter
A Puerto Rican daughter, know this
Born to privileges that do not really exist
I am a Puerto Rican woman who loves another woman
Rights denied
Ignorance still prevail in 2010
I am brown skinned
How important is this? I don’t know, Do you?
Yet, I will not trade the following:
Daughter, aunt, godmother, woman of color, Puerto Rican
They provide an experience taken for granted by many
At times an understanding that others dream off
A strength given, passed down
Not forced or taken
I am the labels you love to hate
I am the labels you hate to love
Are you intimidated?
Do you feel threatened?
By a woman?
A woman with more than half a brain
A woman who can stand up for herself
A woman who can take control
Do you think women should bow down before men?
Do you think a woman's place is in the kitchen?
Do you think?
There's more to a woman than her breasts and assets...
There's brains, there's power and there's a person
Men like you make me sick
You, who are almost 30 but want an 18 year old for the "perky breasts" and "tight hole"
Men like you are pathetic
You feel better when you have a woman under your thumb
You feel like you're in control
But....
where ever you are, there will be a stron woman
A woman who has an opinion - And expresses it
A woman who won't "get in the kitchen and cook you a steak"
A woman who won't put up with it when you can her a wench
And, there will always be a woman who can kick your ............
Why should everything be about rules?
Why can’t we push the envelope a little and have some fun?
Why live in a space where rules
have the ability to decide our happiness...
What about the woman that touched the hem of his garment?
if she followed the rules she would still be ill.
What about the woman who took the oil and washed Jesus’ feet?
The disciples felt that what she was going, were against "the rules"
but in the end she blessed the Master in the best way she possibly could…
How many of us were disillusioned by sticking to the rules?
Life should sometimes be about having fun
not everything in life is plain and simple,
neither are the rules that we are
sometimes compelled to adhere to
sometimes rules are meant to be broken,
even if it is just to make someone's day...
I do not know her name
And would I want to know?
Is it what they call a game?
And should I simply let moments flow?
Naturally, I’m to watch her soon
A gesture to be looking out for
And sparkling becomes my eyes like the moon
To finally perhaps make a move to call
Yet… woman be woman
As man be man forever to be
Mind games are forever to burn
For man and woman are never to see
What exactly we be looking for?
Do we ourselves even know to begin?
Is it the other or ourselves we adore?
Have we the reason to maintain?
And my name did she want to know?
Will she remember in a future called tomorrow?
And of moments allowed to flow
Did I remember a game from humanities to borrow?
An intelligent woman once said to me,
All man cannot see beyond our beauty,
Because that’s the only thing a man truly searches for.
And I told her she was right, and said “I being a man truly see
And search for a woman that has a beautiful,
Personality.”
And as I stood there trying to be a man
the woman of my dreams had just let go of my hand
she walked away from me as if we never met
all I could do was be still and stay
and chant inside my head:
Tomorrow is another day
I felt the wind try to hug me
as the sun shined his warmth
the woman who said she loved me
has turned and left me hoarse
and there as she went
I had to let myself say:
Tomorrow is another day
I gripped my hand
and wept while I stand
but my voice said in command:
TOMORROW IS ANOTHER DAY!
Look inside
Down deep inside
and tell me what you find
in the bottom of your soul
Look in the mirror
stare at your reflection
and tell me what you see
in those bright blue eyes
Do the looks match your emotions?
Deep inside those eyes
I see a broken woman
a woman so low
on the verge of falling
deeper.
From the outside
I see a happy woman
a woman with a smile
on the verge of jumping
higher.
Look around you
All around you
and the people moving
not noticing your sorrow
Look in their eyes
glare for a while
what are their thoughts
about you ?
Deep in their hearts
They wonder what is wrong
a woman so withdrawn
on the verge of collapsing
Lower.
From the first glance
They see an ordinary woman
a pretty woman
on the verge of laughing.
Look deeper
into this extraordinary woman
a fighter, a lover
See the sorrow
taking over this great woman
a griever, a loner
Watch the tears
flood from this stong woman
as she breaks.
Small village girl in a medieval land,
taking orders from other's plans,
picking the wheat, feeding horse hay,
twirling through the forest night and day
Teenage village girl hands the men a drink,
hoping tonight she could finally get some sleep,
but the guys are drunk and wish to dance,
she is terrified but out she pranced
The village woman crosses strange worlds,
creatures never seen and people never heard,
One day the woman finds herself in front of King,
He takes her in, loving and caring...
she finds him sweet as can be
I stood in line with women
A few men waited
But mostly the people around me had curves and femininity
The morning begun cool but warmed as the sun took her throne
The temperature change was like the change that overcame
The strangers
At first silent
Looking straight
And then slowly sharing
Stories
Truth
Seeing each other
A kind woman offered snacks to the small fussing children
She had grandbabies.
We were all here
Hoping for the same result
But for different reasons, different circumstances
Situations
One woman explained that she kept renting houses that were forclosed.
One was on the news the night before at the Interfaith Shelter, already homeless.
Some had little ones and looked much too young
*Poet's note
This was longer and tied more firmly into the title before I lost this poem in cyberspace
I write fictional poetry occassionally, but this one is not that. This is vulnerablity and I am not
strong enough to rewrite it in its entirity again. Please don't judge this yet. It isn't finished.