Monologue 2
far woman shrouded in loneliness
weeping
a hundred days of grief
bleeding blades of brass
bells tolling for another funeral
of the heart
far woman silent as a continent
calling my name
for a thousand years and i, who is here
rooted to the present joys
slowly dying
to the chants of my guilty conscience
beside the
cruel furies
in bed my hands rest at the tomb
of my chest.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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I Can Hear The Funeral Bell
I can hear the funeral bell tolling in the church across the way
Calling in the family and friends of the deceased one for to pray
For the soul of the departed though what happens to the soul
When life's last breath we have taken would seem beyond our control,
Tolling slow and tolling loudly carrying in the freshening breeze
Out there in the sunlit Parkland birds are whistling on the trees
Life on Earth goes on as usual though to life people come and go
Though of a life after death it would seem none can say that they truly know,
Listening to the bell toll slowly makes me once again recall
My own very fragile mortality there's a last day for us all,
Life is brief the years go quickly time does not wait for you or I
And they say the longer we live the sooner we are going to die
And though the funeral bell is tolling in the house of prayer nearby
Swallows chirp above the Parkland in the bright and sunny sky.
poem by Francis Duggan
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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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I do not want to be your weeping woman
I do not want to be your weeping woman
holding you to me with a chain of grief.
I could more easily bear the flames of your anger
than the frost of your kisses empty of desire:
I do not want to be your gentle lover
dragging you to me on a rope of pity.
Sooner that you never touched me than that you ever
should touch me from a distance made of mercy:
I do not want to be your silent mother
always forgiving and smiling and never loving.
If you forget me, forget me utterly. Never
come to my arms without interest: I shall know it:
I do not want to be your weeping woman
pinning you to me with a sword of tears.
I do not want to be your weeping woman.
poem by Alison Boordson
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One Hundred Thousand Marching
One hundred thousand marching
One hundred thousand men
One hundred thousand heading
To a place and a time when
One hundred thousand dying
One hundred thousand cold
One hundred thousand praying
Forever young and never old
One hundred thousand lives were lost
One hundred thousand felt the pain
One hundred thousand maimed and slaughtered
And yet those armies march again.
poem by David Keig
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Song
TO a woman's wistful heart
In a startled wave of feeling,
Swift and sudden,
Sweeps love's flood in,
Joy with fear in rapture reeling;
Scathe and sorrow, fret and smart,
In one flush of gladness healing;
Life beclouded,
Sorrow shrouded,
As a sunlit world revealing
To a woman's wistful heart!
To a woman's wistful heart,
Warm with hopes that almost frighten.
Love comes singing,
Gladly bringing
To her loneliness a light in.
Pain and shadowed grief depart,
Every hour life's glories heighten;
Earth's wide wonder
That has shunned her
Like a flower blooms to brighten
In a woman's wistful heart!
poem by Arthur Henry Adams
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I was a woman
I am not a clever woman
I was a woman who understood
I'm not a strong woman
I was a very brave woman
I'm not an arrogant woman
I am a woman who has self-esteem
I'm not a proud woman
I am a woman trying to protect a fragile heart
But actually I created as being a weak
that should be protected and cherished
Although God gave me the ability to face the cruel life in solitude
Copyright © 2012
Two Loves
The woman he loved, while he dreamed of her,
Danced on till the stars grew dim,
But alone with her heart, from the world apart
Sat the woman who loved him.
The woman he worshipped only smiled
When he poured out his passionate love.
But the other somewhere, kissed her treasure most rare,
A book he had touched with his glove.
The woman he loved betrayed his trust,
And he wore the scars for life;
And he cared not, nor knew, that the other was true;
But no man called her his wife.
The woman he loved trod festal halls,
While they sang his funeral hymn,
But the sad bells tolled, ere the year was old,
For the woman that loved him.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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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
woman woman woman woman woman woman woman
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poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Guilty
Just tried to have fun raised hell and then some
I'm a dirt-talkin', beer drinkin', woman chasin' minister's son
Slap on the make-up and blast out the music
Wake up the neighbors with a roar like a teenage heavy metal elephant gun
If you call that guilty then that's what I am
I'm guilty
I'm guilty
I like driving too fast
Love going too far
It seems the law's on my ass every time I stick it out of the door
If you call that guilty then that's what I am
I'm guilty
I'm guilty
Bad boy on a summer night
When the heat makes me mean and I wanna fight
With my pedal to the metal
And I do what I want to do
Bad girls make me feel all right
When it's hot and they start screaming in the night
Golly gee, it's wrong to be so guilty
I'm guilty
Guilty
I'm guilty
My conscience is on vacation in acute degeneration
Willpower has sunk to all-time low
If you call that guilty well I guess I am
I'm guilty
I'm guilty
If you call that guilty then that's what I am
I'm guilty, I'm guilty, I'm guilty, I'm guilty
I'm guilty, I'm guilty, I'm guilty, I'm guilty
Well I'm guilty
Yeah I'm guilty
I don't care
I'm guilty
I think I've been framed anyway
They said I'm guilty
I'm guilty
They're guilty and everyone is guilty
song performed by by Alice Cooper
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Grenadain Woman
Yes me woman, from my womb life was borne
Yes me woman, the young ones prune by my hands
Yes me woman, with the coves that sways with the redeem of the heart beat, tup-tup, tup-tup, tup-tup, tup-tup
Yes me woman, with beauty unimaginable, soft to the touch
yes me woman, with the voice of a heavenly being, soft, gentle, comforting, encouraging
Yes me woman, determine to succeed with the strength from above
Yes me woman, the days have gone, long gone for her to depend on the strength of another man
Yes me woman, her time has come for the world to see her for who she really is
Yes me woman, creative, innovative, confident, intelligent, loving, kindhearted
Yes me woman, mother, wife, daughter, sister, friend, lover
Yes me woman, The Grenadian woman.
poem by Curliann Mark
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At The Funeral They Cried
At the funeral they cried,
So much sadness pouring out, it was a surprise
To know they’d hated her whilst she was still alive.
But so it goes, the bottled up years of grief given relief,
The pain of loss, that bollocking from the boss,
All those months of feeling cross
And times you had to lie,
All, all comes pouring out
In one long cry.
At the funeral they tried
To think of the woman who’d died,
But found they cried most easily
For themselves.
Coz they didnt care for me,
The woman that died.
poem by Charlotte Marie Peachey
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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
woman woman woman woman woman woman woman
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woman woman woman woman woman
woman woman woman woman
woman woman woman
woman woman
Woman
No more...
poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Im Just A Woman
(ronnie scott/ steve wolfe)
Producer for bonnie: hugh murphy
**Im just a woman
You are the only man
I need you always
You need me now and then
Im just a woman
You are the only man
Im just your puppet
You make me dance and sing
You know I love it
Letting you pull my string
Im just a woman
You are the only man
*and I know if you choose
Yon can throw me away
Like some old shoe
But as long as youre there
From the bottom or my heart
I dont care
I m just the lover
You want along the way
I try to do it
But you always start to play
Im just a woman
You are the only man
*repeat
Im just a woman, ooh
Im just a woman, ooh
And there are times you really show
What s in your heart and then I know
No matter what yon do I cant let go
Of any part of your love
**repeat
*repeat
Im just a woman, ooh
Im just a woman, ooh
Im just a woman
You are the only man
Im just a woman
Said Im just a woman
Im just a woman
You are the only man
Said Im just a woman
Im just a woman just a woman
You are the only man
Just a woman, ooh
Said Im just a woman
Im just a woman
You are the only man
Im just a woman
I said Im just a woman
And you are the only man
Yeah yeah
Im just a woman
You are the only man
Im just a woman
Said Im just a woman
Im just a woman
Youre, youre the only man
song performed by by Bonnie Tyler
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Am Not A Woman...
I am not a woman that loves with a heart
I am not a woman that's silly and smart
I am not a woman with open wounds
I am not a woman that's more attuned
I am not a woman that you hold dear
I am not a woman that has no fear
I am not a woman that's loved or lost
I am not a woman that doesn't know the cost
I am not a woman that's hurting inside
I am not a woman that has no foolish pride
I am not a woman that can't look you in the eye
I am not a woman alone that cries
I am not a woman that's imprisoned with chains
I am not a woman that holds her will in vain
I am not a woman, or mother, or friend
or wife, or daughter, or one to depend
I am not a woman of all and more
Because I gave it away to the one I adore
what's left is all you see
Just a woman that truly believes
Ring Out , Wild Bells
Ring out, wild bells, to the wild sky,
The flying cloud, the frosty light;
The year is dying in the night;
Ring out, wild bells, and let him die.
Ring out the old, ring in the new,
Ring, happy bells, across the snow:
The year is going, let him go;
Ring out the false, ring in the true.
Ring out the grief that saps the mind,
For those that here we see no more,
Ring out the feud of rich and poor,
Ring in redress to all mankind.
Ring out a slowly dying cause,
And ancient forms of party strife;
Ring in the nobler modes of life,
With sweeter manners, purer laws.
Ring out the want, the care the sin,
The faithless coldness of the times;
Ring out, ring out my mournful rhymes,
But ring the fuller minstrel in.
Ring out false pride in place and blood,
The civic slander and the spite;
Ring in the love of truth and right,
Ring in the common love of good.
Ring out old shapes of foul disease,
Ring out the narrowing lust of gold;
Ring out the thousand wars of old,
Ring in the thousand years of peace.
Ring in the valiant man and free,
The larger heart, the kindlier hand;
Ring out the darkness of the land,
Ring in the Christ that is to be.
poem by Alfred Lord Tennyson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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To Love A Woman
(ian hunter)
To love a woman
Lost and lonely through the night
My baby doesnt hear me right
Cross my heart and hope to die
The words wont come although I try
Its there beneath me deep and strong
And when I speak it sounds so wrong
Oh cross my heart and hope to die
Ill never know the reason why
You and I were so in love
And if the sun wont shine
Ill be warm enough for the both of us
To love a woman
To love a woman
To love a woman
To love a woman
Sometimes when Im away from you
I love you more you know its true
Oh cross my heart and hope to die
This loneliness is good sometimes
And youll return smile over me
And I still cant say whats plain to see
But cross my heart and hope to die
Youll never know how hard I try
You and I we fell in love
And if the sun wont shine
Ill be warm enough for the both of us
To love a woman
To love a woman
To love a woman
To love a woman
To love a woman
To love a woman
To love a woman
To love a woman
Loving a woman like you aint hard to do
You know it happens all the time
To love a woman another woman
To love a woman aint never been hard
(cross my heart and hope to die)
To love a woman
To love a woman
To love a woman
To love a woman
To love a woman
To love a woman
To love a woman
So Ill go on through this night
Wishing the words to come out right
Cross my heart and hope to die
This stubborn tongues gonna make me cry
Just accept me as I am
Understand Im a quiet man
Cross my heart and hope to die
I dread the day you say goodbye
You and I we fell in love
And if the sun wont shine
Ill be warm enough for the both of us
To love a woman
To love a woman
To love a woman
To love a woman
To love a woman
(fade)
song performed by by Ian Hunter
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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Now that august is gone
Now that august is gone
And we all know that all augusts come and go
Is this woman? a woman of vertue,
Is this woman? a super woman
Is this woman? a woman of mission and vision
Is this woman? classy and stylish
Is this woman? preffesional or house wife
And the woman of action and motion
A woman of courage and resilence
A woman of liberation and liberty
A woman of passion and compassion
A woman of thoughts and opinions
A woman of empathy and sympathy
A woman of concerns and kindness
.
A woman of confrontation or insecurity
A woman of altracation or tranquility
A woman of ambition or armunition
A woman of redeemtion or detention
A woman of power or affection
Is this woman a woman
I am not questining you, woman!
I was questioning this woman
poem by Jacques Sprenkie Mateya
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Too Long
It’s been too long since I felt the soft touch of a woman’s hands rub my bald head.
It’s been too long since I felt the gentleness of a woman’s lips press against mind.
It’s been too long since I cuddled with a woman’s head up against my chest listening to my heart beat.
It’s been too long since my tongue has slipped between a woman’s thighs and her juices drip down my throat.
It has been too long since I have made love to a woman and felt her inner walls pulsate.
It has been too long since a woman made my leg shake as I climax.
It’s been at least nine months and that’s far too long.
There is no ice that will never melt
There is no ice that will never melt
Slowly, gradually
Though freeze to sleep forever
Or not be moved by emotion
Slowly, gradually
It’s not needed fire arms
It’s not needed the right law
Only time
Slowly, gradually
The cold drips in my hands
Like a burning candle
Like a bleeding body
Gone into puddle
There is no ice that will never melt
Slowly, gradually
Will it be a thin hope
Or silent word
Slowly, gradually
It’s not needed genius mind
It’s not needed global warning
Only time
Slowly, gradually
The crystal vanishes in my hands
Like a crying stone
Like a dying swan
Gone into water
poem by Maria Sudibyo
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