Long Womanhood Poems
Long Womanhood Poems. Below are the most popular long Womanhood by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Womanhood poems by poem length and keyword.
I sing the songs of childhood
A forgotten time...
Before illusive fantasies of womanhood
Before hearing of the murder of my dreams
By the hand of my lover
Who demands of me
Things I cannot give
Forcing issues of loyalty
Between people I love
And a woman’s heart rends
Behind the curtain
Hidden concern bleeds to death
Overwhelmed
By the accusations
The violent demands
The questioning eyes
Slowly going insane
Wearing my mourning gown of pain
I sing
I dance
I twirl
Ophelia’s songs
Running through my head
Flowers in my hands
I dance
Traipsing towards….
The water’s edge
I wade in
Clothes and all
Looking for my cradle of solace
I lie back
Looking up at the azure sky
Songs of childhood
Of innocence lost
And heartaches won
A bird catches my eye
Soaring free
I stop singing
Slowly tilting my head back
The water covers my forehead
Nestles over my open eyes
Soothing me
Singing its own lullaby
A lullaby of childhood
Of happy times
Welcoming me
I push further back
And let the water
Surge into my open mouth
Through my nostrils
I drink it in
A moment more….
And I’ll be soaring free
I cough out water
Gasping for breath
I hear noises
A young girl crying
“Mama, Mama….breathe!”
A man’s arms are around me
Holding me to the side
Patting me on the back
As I cough out more water…
Spent
I lie back
And look into the sun
Close my eyes
I open my mouth
And sing songs
Songs of my childhood
I hear the young girl cry
I hear the man sigh
I hear the people around whisper
“She’s gone mad”
I sing
I open my eyes to search the sky
For a lone bird
Flying high
Singing….singing
Ophelia’s songs
Till my day turns into night….
For Anne Currin's Suicide Contest
August 2, 2013
Behold my countenance*:
indeed a transparent canvas
ready to project
heart’s kaleidoscopic iridescence…
Hence, with blessed decades of life exposure
it is not reluctant to expose soul’s woes
never concealing irksome warts
along struggles to remain calm and dignified
but verily impossible;
moreover, those peering wrinkles
with assertive frowning marks
expose human nature’s response
to frustration-caused despair
and distress attacks;
then the blemishes lurk
behind weariness angst
as well as misery turmoil.
This visage, however…
is dominated with laugh lines
highlighting girlish grin
and now, womanhood chuckles
evidencing spirited mirth
of laugh-out-loud exuberance.
Best of all, is this facial distinction-
(aside from dimples catching attention)
remarkably an asset, testified by onlookers:
the contagious radiance of faith’s bliss
overpowering forlorn disposition
vanquishing enigmatic smile
while defying hypocrisy’s conceit
after confessing vexation-show.
Lingering --- even midst coffin viewing
and toward eternity…
…my face, I pray, will exude
perpetual earnest gratitude-glow
of beauteous serenity
as valuable masterpiece
constantly restored and
unceasingly revived by
the great Painter of my existence:
God Almighty!
Proverbs 15:13 A merry heart maketh a cheerful countenance: but by sorrow of the heart the spirit is broken.
December 19, 2019
1st place, "STRAND SELECT 6, any form, any theme" Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Brian Strand; judged on 1/8/2020.
Just ‘jealous’ doesn’t do her justice, since
unless you factor-in her womanhood,
no vestige of the passion in her blood
or motivation comes across: her prince
conceived real circumspection. He’d convince
alumni, friends and allies that they should
placate her: Juno wasn’t wholly good,
in Miller’s words, a phrase which wins the quince,
the prize for sweetness, but wholly herself.
Our modern model argues men are strong –
look at his biceps! Somehow, all along,
I’ve known the Ghibelline to be a Guelph:
no question, Juno would approve my song:
as ingrained as the view is, it’s still wrong.
FOR LIZZIE
I do not live by drawing breath
By drink or beat of heart
I live by love my purpose to
My child all joy impart.
My drug, her unexpected smile
What e'er the reason be
I could for days float on a high
And on her laugh OD.
As she has grown to womanhood
I'm filled with admiration
The love she shows to all she meets
Regardless of their station.
She's never won a Pageant crown
Or medal made of gold
Yet she is a priceless human being
Whose soul I get to hold.
She is too perfect for this world
Whose judgment's skewed by hate
And many may not see her worth
Until it's far too late.
So I count myself the richest queen
My thanks will never falter
For I've been blessed with two in one:
A treasure and a daughter.
You don't have a single clue
It attacks inside of you
Silently it starts a war
And sneaks a virus to the core
Of your womanhood and breasts
Putting your strength to the test
Fighting a battle hard to win
That's claimed victims time and again
Your perseverance pulls you through
The next surgery or two
Leaving you a whole lot lighter
Proving that you are a fighter
Pink ribbon worn on your dress
Hiding scars upon your flesh
A pretty pink bow in your hair
Until a wig is placed on there
Holding hands with others who
Raise money on walks right by you
Candles lighting up the night
Remember those who lost the fight
To this monster that don't care
Who it takes or when or where
WOMB WORDS
Womb ! Mother of All, what sayeth you
knowing activation before birth
births through girths, a Q ?
~ ‘I see rainmakers smoking pipes
drink from ostrich eggs fresh
then hike wearing silver Nikes
embryo cells magically multiply
hearing guinea fowl cackle on high
kicking sensations, baby legs sigh
atoms alight travel from mom to babe
life witnesses itself languidly lacing
almost due, a beautiful hue
womanhood elastic expands happy rosy
she is cow peace or yappy puppy cosy
who will give sweet milk, play with baby gay
while father on maroon
patterned mat prays every day’ ~
I birth in agony and ecstasy entwined
welcoming a caramel soul
divine !
VIDEO/AUDIO on YouTube above. NOTE: On the video; double-click to enlarge, and/or, right-click for the drop-down menu and click on 'Loop' for auto-repeat, click settings and pick the highest level for quality viewing.
Greek Goddess
Poetic Form: Heptastich
I am
Aphrodite...
yielded from sea lather
and reached the shores of Cyprus on
a scallop's shell, symbol
of womanhood
and birth
I am
Aphrodite...
Homer sourced me as a
girl by Zeus and sea nymph, Dione,
and aphrodisiac
had influenced
my name
I am
Aphrodite...
a cause and effect for
incessant eyes aroused crusade
facing our guarded Mount
Olympus high
above
I am
Aphrodite...
unceasing prayers heard
by mere boldness and a taste test
from each sweeten apple
will direct me
to you
I am
Aphrodite...
petitions in the air
float endlessly, plucked graciously
by ivory doves to
be delivered
to me
I am
Aphrodite...
where I will recognize
you daily upon your first glance
into some looking-glass
beholding my
essence
I am
Aphrodite...
Olympian goddess
of love, beauty, procreation
also, satisfaction,
your every need
answered.
2020 July 09
*1st Place*
A Contest About a Goddess or God - Not THE God
~~Caren Krutsinger: Judged 2020 July 25
There I go…watching a young girl across my garden,
her body language exposing both pleasure and piety—
soil roots tended with naturalness amidst soft gust…
Like so, she mirrors this eleven-year- old within,
curious though kind with an appetite for daring
the unknown: But I’m not prepared to replay this game—
I mean, a comeback of my innocence when nights
barrage a mind with past transgressions still in need
of hubris’ final release …totally unforgiving,
an inner critic seethes from unresolved anger.
This jovial angel is not me.
My pissed off womanhood soaks in an outpour
where catharsis escapes me,
unless I embrace battles won lost humbly :
I am not there yet.
O that little girl by the garden and my eleven-year
old self vanish that I am left alone
to bear new flowers , their tender plea…my choice.
---------
5/03/2019
A John lawless Contest: The Crap Shoot Poetry
Immeasurable maturation profoundly
transformed thy Shana Punim
within whose corporeal femininity
gravitas resonates and doth hum
whose unbelievable transition, now
follows the beat of her own drum
approximately four years ago,
thee second and youngest born
daughter didst squawk and crow
aforementioned fledging eagerly,
instinctively, and naturally clamoring ergo
summoning unbendable biological
propensity to grow
which, she recognized
to this papa, a regular Joe
who realized, he did not know,
the painful necessity Brexiting
"FAKE" moors whar
family cows did low
aforementioned hyperbolic fabrication,
albeit this poe
whit did cavalierly usurp license to show,
(within the third eye blind mind's)
pace of autonomy a father cannot slow
as call of the wild for kinder
(progeny) chomps at figurative bit lest...
regret (like this papa), she will
like an albatross around her neck,
thus our twittering youngest
offspring experienced beck,
and call (declaration) of independence
from being shielded
(more so sunken) within dreck,
an abysmal living situation
(with me and the missus),
whose own respective impetus
to get away from hen peck
king parents, which crimped,
cost, and castrated, or effect
similar stunted growth on mine
body, mind and spirit thereof
until ultimatums got hurled at me
extremely unpleasant twee
mend us vitriolic bile lashed out hee
ping loathsome spittle at this free
damned sole Harris son, who overstayed,
and wore out welcome Matt, now re
vile ling forsaken opportunities
forever leaving my mental, psychological
social, et cetera state to atrophy!
to come home to a mother,
after a long day at school,
to that greeting of love and care,
to a spotless house, and aroma
of food that she makes so well,
to her healing maternal touch,
… those bygone days,
still stay with me…
to drive home to a caring wife,
waiting alone for me at home,
for that hug and kiss, the bond,
that strengthens two souls to be one,
when thoughts and hopes merge,
her thoughts are mine
and mine she knows from before,
.. her never fading smile,
still stay with me.
to be with the bright eyed girl,
my little 5 year old,
the distance from work to home,
felt so, so far far away,
I might have raced my car,
unknown to myself,
then watched her through teenage to
her wedding.. when she left.
..my love for her, and hers for me
still stay with me.
each a mother, like another,
each a glorification of that special
creation- womanhood…
moments pass, time washes days away,
imprinted on my heart and soul,
they stay with me…
forever.