Segments Of A Circle
The stained-glass sky flounces and shatters
As the wonder of the night scintillates
Upon the sleeping skin of a promenade
In the circlet roads of a silent ballet
Light perched foots steps trample upon
The maladroit blotches of the porch lights
And beneath the maw of the waxing moon
Was the silhouette of a gaudy woman
She would always be the same woman
In her sapid vagueness, no peculiarities
No sobriquets, no facades, no niceties;
A plummeting ballet herself
She is always in the equipoise of my eyelids
At the beginning and end of rainy days
Quaffing the gray sketches of the atmosphere
Riding the blue winds of tranquilized euphoria
She is always out there like the chirps of a sparrow
Whenever the moon laze in her eiderdown couch
She would be leaning effulgently to kiss the stars
That incinerates with her enigma
Sometimes she would be tender like a conch's whisper
A surging lullaby standing by the bedpost
Crooning in the veranda and the breaking tides
In harmony with the sirens' song
Sometimes she would be a nightmare
A phantom crumpling every reverie
A pristine picture clawed by dementia
Pinned into the frangible ceiling
The nostalgia slumbering in her brittle bones,
The wonder combing her coal tresses,
And the buoyant nights in her screaming palms
Sometimes, I think I know this woman
Before the sun rise and set in the roof beams
I do try to cipher her riddling phantasm
A void silhouette with a potent effect
A salient ballet injured in a pirouette
Time after time, a voice behind the blear
Would wake me from this saccharine dream
Before the steely teeth of veracity would notch
And spray the poison in a treacle cup
And how many times have I denied—
Seeing you beneath the eaves of daylight
Without the mystery but still in anonymity
With the same nostalgia inside the nattering bones?
How many times have I seen you—
Your face elucidated by the hands of dawn
Your name flowing out of my derided lips
And sometimes, in my nacreous eyes?
I think I know this woman of sometimes
The flakes of her grandiosity and her horrors
Perched upon the equipoise of a cycle
In undisruptive segments of a circle
Sometimes, I think I know this circle
Thousand falcate roads for a ceaseless rat race
That never ends owed to the unstable segments
Alluring for ecstasy, calling for quietus.
poem by Norman Santos
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Related quotes
To The Aggies Of Ateneo De Davao Around The World
nostalgia is the word for all these now
we have the urge to look out the window and find
who we were: the joys of the college years that will tickle us
old friends and their memories like innocent children
coming on our laps asking for our embraces
old pictures make our hearts shrink a little only to grow
bigger like a bread from the pan
fresh and fuming with the flavor of wheat
nostalgia is the word for it
and time is its mother that nourishes with its milk
the past comes to us always with something greener
and a breather of mint and rosemary
some peppers and honeyed lemonades
nostalgia is the word for it
when our wings have gone far beyond the lands of our births
dissolving in the horizons of other lands
when our chirps are gone
nostalgia is the word for it
when we come back stronger this time and lovelier
with our wounds that healed
with our pains that lost its trick
nostalgia is the word for it
such is she a beautiful woman still even though the hairs have turned gray
and the breasts sag and the bones rattling like brittle sticks
nostalgia is the word for it and no matter where the winds of this world
and its cyclones and waves have taken us
we are back looking for the glitter of each other's eyes
and then we laugh and then the world has heard us
yes, nostalgia is the word that people seldom use
as they move on with their respective lives
but we are here once again
nostalgia is the theme, it is here and soon it will leave
we are once again full even for once
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Her Hidden Treasure
Her flame was only for the women –
Not for us unlucky men;
A weakness lay for feminine way:
To feel an even fairer skin
In silky slide.
Her lips were for the satin love that
Only flows from rising breast;
The creamy tan was not for man
To pull towards a chiselled chest
In weathered hide.
Her hidden treasure down below
Would shy away from macho length
And only rouse upon the blouse
Undone by other sapphic strength –
In time, inside!
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010
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poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Chauvinist
I’d never really comprehended such a mighty range of
Shapes and sizes down behind, it’s really rather strange:
The buttock muscle in a woman, overlaid with fat
Is actually such a focal point for men to want to pat
Or squeeze, and then to tease her if it’s eminently stout,
Or even risk a stay in clink to sting it with a clout!
After all, we men are tuned to be that way inclined –
And tho’ our needs are varied, girls, they’re all perverse of mind!
Best of all, our sacred dream: to see her shed her gown
When gliding to the shower for the ritual sponging down.
But then alas! With body lathered, oops! she drops the soap;
‘Please! ’ we beg her, ‘bend and bare! ’ But we can only hope!
I’m sure by now you get the picture – like a rule of thumb –
That men like me obsess all day about the fairer bum.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010
My dreams are of a
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poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Woman In Black
I knew the moment
I walked through that door
I felt so close to a burning sensation
It got so warm
As I moved across the floor
My body aching with anticipation
I saw a dark silhouette, at the table
I tried to talk, but I was unable
She drew me in right under her spell
I was hypnotized by the sudden temptation
Of that woman in black, shes a mystery
Shes everything a woman should be
Woman in black, shes got a hold on me
Shes in control, she wont set me free
She is a woman
Shes not a girl anymore
The kind that stirs up a young mans imagination
Shes dressed to kill
And Im so ready to fall
Into her world full of strange fascination
I see that dark silhouette, at the table
I cant resist, my bodys not able
She draws me in, but she teaches me well
I never need any explanation
From that woman in black, shes a mystery
Shes everything a woman should be
I said, woman in black, got a hold on me
Shes in control, she wont set me free
Ooh, woman in black
Its too late now
I cant turn back
cause Im a fool for that woman
Woman in black
Ooh, ooh, woman in black
Ooh, that woman in black, shes a mystery
Shes everything a woman should be
That woman in black, shes got a hold on me
Shes in control, she wont set me free
Shes my mysterious mistress
But she leaves me so helpless
My woman in black
Shes a dark senorita
My woman in black
No sunday school teacher
My woman in black
Were keeping it a secret
We meet in the night
Were partners in silence
Strangers in daylight
song performed by by Foreigner
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Battered Doll
A red dress for blood spilt,
Torn blouse for flesh rent;
Ladders in the stockings –
A rung for every callous blow landed.
Scuffed shoes winked about the kicks –
After all, bruise-gorged eyes can’t –
Just permanently closed.
Burning tears were scant warmth
Against a chill from ugly cries.
Lipstick smudges on the chin to
Nullify all vestiges of beauty –
Those that constituted rare patches
Of purest cream skin, from
Days of feminine joy, telling once
Upon a time there was an angel…
But now, a battered doll.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010
woman woman
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woman woman woman
woman woman
Woman
No more...
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Under the same moon.
Under the same moon. (poem/storyline)
Separated by Miles,
True love strengthens by distance,
Two hands longing to be held,
Two hearts -Beating as one,
Two pairs of eyes,
See beyond the world,
The sky...Is not the sky,
The moon...Is not the moon,
The stars...Are not the stars,
But a gateway,
A runaway,
To being together,
Bonding as one,
both stare onto the clearing of the moon,
They see each other in the sky,
They stare upon it,
They feel, they realize
Their not alone, But standing face to face,
To find love under the moonlight,
Distance relives but shares the same sky,
The towns people are silent and asleep,
Only two names, one boy, one girl-
Exist as the waxing gibbous turns full,
Seconds pass by fast,
Her hand touches his heart,
His hand touches hers,
A sudden movement,
They are holding each other,
Locking hands and eyes,
Every night they visit the same moon,
Just to be with each other,
The morning slowly breaks the dark,
the sun takes over the moon,
Til' this day the moon has never gone,
But is hiding to come again every night,
to bring two together,
Years past,
the moon still never gone,
what was once a little boy, and once a little girl,
grow older,
They're skin wrinkles,
eye sight fades,
strength dims,
bones weaken,
But now together-
two look in each others eyes,
searching for the past,
for now and old woman,
and an old man,
Still holding each others hand.
That night they both go to heaven,
Together,
But as the moon shall come again,
there they will stand,
Together,
As a little boy and girl.
Holding each other,
under the same moon.
poem by Danie Babcock
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El Merengue
Mexican clad horsemen
ladies in long skirts
circle dance, stretching hands
clapping of hands,
horses set free in the tundras
snow melting
at the cafe, a muscular man meets
a very feminine woman,
they talk a while, the woman giggles
the man holds her hands
they go for a walk
and it is getting dark
they go inside a copa cabana
drink wine
the moon is full and appears
sits upon a roof
the man pulls down his trouser
the woman undresses herself
he puts off the light
she closes the window.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A life half lived
A life lived in fear
Is a life half lived.
If only you would dare – or do!
A flagrant kiss of challenge on the lips
– then on to tongue –
Will help undress the man,
So you may feel the dawn
Caress your waking self:
The blush of latent pride will
Place the cold of low-esteem
Upon the shelf of also-rans.
You’d shine! –
In oestrogenic ways that
For the moment hide beneath your skin,
Deferring yet again a shaking breast
From androgenic hands.
Involve your glands upon a whim –
Finger up a risk or two;
Stroke a chance to share with him
Atop a forward you!
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010
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poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Woman, Oh Woman (A Song)
Woman, Oh woman
Why do you make me feel
Every time I'm near you
My heads a spinning wheel
Woman, Oh woman
What have you done to me
Woman, Oh woman
Did you cast a spell on me
Woman, Oh woman
When you touch me, I chill
When you kiss me, I'm in heaven
I've known nothing so real
Woman, Oh woman
When I gaze into your eyes
I'm blinded by the passion
I feel that's deep inside
Woman, Oh woman
Did you over do your spell
My hearts in many pieces
It sadens me to tell
Woman, Oh woman
What have you done to me
Woman, Oh woman
Did you cast a spell on me
Woman, Oh woman
In sadness I do tell
My hearts in tiny pieces
Did you over do your spell.
poem by Bill Simmons
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Yesterday
Yesterday, the sunshine made the air glow
pushing me like a sixteen-year-old
to toss my shirt off, and run along the river shore,
splashing in the water, wading out to the reeds,
my heart an ancient Yaki drum
and I believed,
more than believed,
the air beneath trees was female blue dancers
I approached, and there in the dry leaves, in the crisp twigs,
I turned softly as if dancing with a blue woman made of air,
sunlight,
in shrub-weed skirts.
I knew the dance that would please the Gods,
I knew the dance that would make the river water
smile glistening ever silvering,
I knew the dance steps that praised my ancestors.
Yeah, I wanted to write you a poem woman
for two days,
and today it was gray and snowy and overcast,
about how I startled the mallards from their shallow
refuge beneath the Russian olive trees
and how the male purposely
came close to me
diverting my attention to it
its female love went the other way
risking its life,
that's what I saw,
the male fly before the hunter's rifles, circle in sights of hunters
and take the shots, the roaring rifle blast
after blast
and circle beyond over the fields to meet its female companion.
That's how I miss you, that's how I wanted to write you a poem
since we left
you one way
me another way. I was the male
taking with me the hunters that would harm you
risking my heart so yours wouldn't be hurt,
fronting myself as possible prey
so you could escape,
that kind of poem
I am writing you now.
Circling as hunters aim down on me
while you rise, rise, rise into the blue sky
and meet me over in the next fields.
I wanted to write you a poem for two days now
to tell you how happy I was,
seeing a white crane arc
between banks in the irrigation ditch
with furious efforts, its big wings flapping
like an awkward nine-year-old kid
much taller than the others his age
with size twelve sneakers
flapping down the basketball court.
But once the white crane
found its balance, its wings their grace, it glided more perfectly
than a ballet dancer's leap across air,
all of its feathers ballet dancer's toes,
all of its feathers delicate dancers
all of its feathers, in motion
made me believe in myself,
but more,
when it rose, swooped up,
the line of ascent up
made me think of the curve of your spine,
how I traced my finger down your spine
when you slept,
your spine
is the ascent of the crane
toward the sunshine,
and my hands my face my torso and chest and legs and hips
became air, a blue cold artic air
you glided up in your song of winter love.
poem by Jimmy Santiago Baca
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Days Of Our Lives
How many times have you walked through my door
How many times have you heard my song before
How many lines until the end of time
These are the days of our lives
How many times did you hear mother say
You would do fine if you didn't sleep all day
Oh mother dear, I'll get a job next year
These are the days of our lives
How many times did you walk down the street
Avoiding cracks that were thrown at your feet
These rainy days were sent to make us pay
But these are the days of our lives
How many roads must a woman walk down
How many walls will surround the town
All that I am could get us out of here
These are the days of our lives
Did you believe in the stories at night
Weren't you afraid when they turned out the light
Oh, such a gas, I'm sorry it won't last
These are the days of our lives
These are the days that some of us regret
These are the days we learn to forget
These are the days that turn us out this way
These are the days of our lives
Of our lives
song performed by by Travis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Early Works-Woman
Woman
a creature profound
with mind unstable yet sound.
Woman
sometimes called the weaker sex
this saying is a pretext.
Though their skin may be softer than mans,
this does not mean they have no strength in their hands.
Woman
sent as an underling of man
sometimes gains the ruling hand
Woman
though love is their strength,
in more cases it is their weakness.
One of the gentlest creature at times,
the fiercest at other times.
(Date Written Unknown)
poem by David Harris
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I Am a Woman
I AM APHRODITE,
I AM ATHENA,
I AM A WOMAN.
I TRANSFORM THE WORLD,
WITH MY STEPS.
A WOMAN I AM,
A WOMAN I WILL BE...
HEAR HEAR WORLD,
THE OTHER HALF APPROACHES.
RESPECT IS MINE, DIGNITY IS MY BIRTHRIGHT,
ASK AND IT IS MINE,
CHANGE IS IN MY HANDS.
THE POWER IS MINE.
A WOMAN, I CAN.
BORN EQUAL IN A WORLD.
WOMAN - THE MASTER OF ROLES. THE SHAPE OF MY SKIN CANNOT DICTATE MY LIFE.
I, A WOMAN,
SEEK THE WORLD
OF MY RIGHTS, I AM WORTHY.
CHERISHED WITH LOVE,
I RISE LIKE THE SUN,
THE YONDER SKIES BELOW.
I FEEL THE FLIGHT OF SATISFACTION.
THE SANDS OF TIME,
AWAITS MY FOOTPRINTS...............
I A WOMAN,
AM BOLD,
AM COURAGEOUS,
THE GLASS CEILING IS MINE,
TO BREAK.
I CARE NOT FOR PAIN,
BUT FOR THE SWEET SMELL OF SUCCESS.
I GO HITHER,
INTO THE WORLD.
I CLAIM IT.
I A WOMAN...
I DESERVE IT.
I RISE ABOVE,
I SMILE,
THE WORLD IS MINE,
FOR TAKING.
STRIVE,
THE WORLD AWAITS,
MY HARD WORK.
I RETRACE MY STEPS,
TOWARDS PARADISE,
WHERE ADAM BECKONS.
I BEGIN ANEW,
WITH WINGS OF IRON.
I CHALLENGE THE WORLD,
IT BENDS,
IT BOWS,
AND I A WOMAN....
TRIUMPH IN ZENITH.
Crysis!
I perceive the sound
it filters into my ear
the voice is too familiar
the unmistakable pitch
its the woman's voice
i swear i have lived this moment
too many a times.
each time it makes me sad
every i wish i could help
every i shed i tear,
the woman's voice so tender
thus the shrill cuts in
the silence of the dark
many hear her
beg for mercy-for help
help-which i was not of
if only a four year old could help
the woman from her beast husband
always pawing her
night to the other
if only i could help-the woman
out of her crysis
poem by Pen anthony
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Praise Of Ysolt
In vain have I striven,
to teach my heart to bow;
In vain have I said to him
'There be many singers greater than thou'.
But his answer cometh, as winds and as lutany,
As a vague crying upon the night
That leaveth me no rest, saying ever,
'Song, a song.'
Their echoes play upon each other in the twilight
Seeking ever a song.
Lo, I am worn with travail
And the wandering of many roads hath made my eyes
As dark red circles filled with dust.
Yet there is a trembling upon me in the twilight,
And little red elf words crying, ‘A song',
Little grey elf words crying for a song,
Little brown leaf words crying, ‘A song',
Little green leaf words crying for a song.
The words are as leaves, old brown leaves in the spring time
Blowing they know not whither, seeking a song.
White words as snow flakes but they are cold,
Moss words, lip words, words of slow streams.
In vain have I striven
to teach my soul to bow,
In vain have I pled with him:
'There be greater souls than thou.'
For in the morn of my years there came a woman
As moonlight calling,
As the moon calleth the tides,
'Song, a song.'
Wherefore I made her a song and she went from me
As the moon doth from the sea,
But still came the leaf words, little brown elf words
Stying 'The soul sendeth us'.
'A song, a song!'
And in vain I cried unto them ‘I have no song
For she I sang of hath gone from me'.
But my soul sent a woman, a woman of the wonder-folk,
A woman as fire upon the pine woods
crying 'Song, a song'.
As the flame crieth unto the sap.
My song was ablaze with her and she went from me
As flame leaveth the embers so went she unto new forests '
And the words were with me
crying ever. 'Song, a song'.
And I 'I have no song',
Till my soul sent a woman as the sun:
Yea as the sun calleth to the seed,
As the spring upon the bough
So is she that cometh, the mother of songs,
She that holdeth the wonder words within her eyes
The words, little elf words
that call ever unto me,
'Song, a song'.
In vain have I striven with my soul
to teach my soul to bow.
What soul boweth
while in his heart art thou?
poem by Ezra Pound
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Her Bum
‘Does my bum look big in this? ’ She glared.
I gulped and stared upon the floor.
I must escape; the bedroom door
Was open. ‘Run! ’ my senses cried.
But I was numb – nerves were fried!
‘Well? ’ She scowled. I sought a subterfuge.
‘It’s absolutely huge! ’ I thought –
But how to tell her that–? A short
And blighted life she’d wreak on me.
And so to Wife, on bended knee
I prayed ‘Oh please release me from this hell! ’
She gave a yell: ‘So is it big? ’
I looked again – a mammoth rig
Was hanging down – but how to say?
An honest man would surely pay!
I stuttered ‘Err... well, yes it’s nice.’
Her voice was ice: ‘But in this? ’
I tried diversion with a kiss.
‘I love you’ also burbled out – but
I was heading for a rout.
I drew a breath. ‘Be a man! ’ I growled
Inside this howling, quaking head.
‘Well actually love, ’ and now I’m dead,
‘It’s colossal – a real whopper... ’
The bedroom shook; I couldn’t stop her.
I daren’t publish anymore…
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010
woman woman woman woman
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woman woman woman woman woman woman
woman woman woman woman woman
woman woman woman woman
poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Woman In Me (feat. Destiny's Child)
Doo doo da da da da da
Doo doo da da da da da
Doo doo da da da da da
Doo doo da da da da da
Doo doo da da da da da
Doo doo da da da da da
Ohhhhh
The face that I see it's the woman in me
It's the woman that I wanna be
The face that I see it's the woman in me
It's the woman in me I see (I see)
As I look in, look in the mirror I see
Life is really here to be with me, oh
I can see myself getting stronger everyday
I'm not the same woman I used to be
So now I tell myself I am thinkin strong
I see the beauty lying within my soul
The face that I see it's the woman in me
It's the woman that I wanna be
The face that I see it's the woman in me
It's the woman in me I see (I see)
When I love myself I can do whatever I want
Doesn't matter what you do to me, do to me
Honest people, there's a possibility
To tell you my real reality
The face that I see it's the woman in me
It's the woman that I wanna be (I wanna be)
The face that I see it's the woman in me
It's the woman in me I see (woman in me baby)
Doo doo da da da da da
Doo doo da da da da da
Doo doo da da da da da
Doo doo da da da da da
Doo doo da da da da da
Doo doo da da da da da
Can you see the woman in me
Do you really wanna see the woman in me
Hahha, let me show you
Don't underestimate the woman I become
The woman I am
So now I tell myself that I'm thinkin I'm strong
And I see the beauty lying within my soul
The face that I see it's the woman in me
It's the woman that I wanna be (I wanna be)
The face that I see it's the woman in me
It's the woman in me I see (I see)
The face that I see it's the woman in me
It's the woman that I wanna be (I wanna be)
The face that I see it's the woman in me
It's the woman in me I see (I see)
The face that I see it's the woman in me
It's the woman that I wanna be (I wanna be)
The face that I see it's the woman in me
It's the woman in me I see (I see)
The face that I see it's the woman in me
It's the woman that I wanna be (I wanna be)
The face that I see it's the woman in me
It's the woman in me I see (I see)
The face that I see it's the woman in me
It's the woman that I wanna be (I wanna be)
The face that I see it's the woman in me
It's the woman in me I see (I see)
The face that I see it's the woman in me
It's the woman that I wanna be (I wanna be)
The face that I see it's the woman in me
It's the woman in me I see (I see)
(laughter
song performed by by Jessica Simpson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Glory Of A Woman...
The Tenderness Of A Woman
Is In The Strength Of Her Hands
Her Power To Touch
And Take Care Of Her Man
The Gentleness Of A Woman
Is In Her Character, To Care
And Her Courage To Bear
All Pains, As A Pair
The Winsomeness Of A Woman
Is In Her Choice To Understand
And A Support Source To Plan
And Her Voice, Cheering, ‘We Can’
The Sweetness Of A Woman
Is In Her Secure Embrace
Her Fragrance, Form, and Face
And Her Hunger, For His Taste
But, The Weakness Of A Woman
… Is That Her Heart, Is Beaten
Surrenders Body and Soul Even
Before His May Weaken
She Stays The Course To Withstand
The Mighty Heart Of A Man
Patience, Like Hour-Glass Sand
Is The Female Force Of A Woman
The Crowning Glory Of A Woman
Is Tresses, Flowing Like Rain Above
But, The Glorious Joy Of A Woman
Is Knowing, She Is Loved …
The Completeness… Of A Woman
Written & ©: 2/22/10
By: The MoonBee
poem by MoonBee Canady
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You ARE A Woman :)
You are a woman,
A strong woman,
A grown woman,
One who WON'T give me what I want just cause I want it woman.
He needs you woman,
A loving woman,
Non-trusting woman,
One who knows the difference between right and wrong woman.
I found a woman,
You're one of em,
So many love em,
You just need to see the places you can be woman.
Hear me woman,
Don't fear me woman,
You're near me woman,
We all face strife, gotta change yo life woman.
See me woman,
No fake or frontin,
Can't be me woman,
For I am a man and you need to be a WOMAN!
['Enpowering women since the age of -9 months :) ']
poem by Tamell Bailey
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Man To Woman
Girl, when the moon across the water starts to rise
Ill be looking for tomorrow and Ill see it in your eyes
Girl, though the strongest heartll shatter in a storm
Now we got this love that we can run to
Tonight, Ill keep you warm
(chorus)
Man to woman
When youre lying next to me
Man to woman
Girl youre everything I need
Hold on, well always be
Always you and me
Hold me close
Youre the nearest thing to heaven that Ive known
I can feel the fire that burns inside you
Look how this love has grown
(chorus)
Man to woman (man to woman)
Man to woman (man to woman)
Just say well always be
Always you and me
I wanna hold you in the night
Cant you see
That Im just livin for your light
I want the world to know
I cant let you go
(chorus)
Man to woman (man to woman)
Man to woman (man to woman)
I want the world to see
Baby what you mean to me
song performed by by Chicago
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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