Amazon woman,
Steaming awash, wet to dry
Grounded, she crumbles
haiku by Rashida Mack
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On The Amazon
There's a danger zone, not a stranger zone
Than the little plot I walk on that I call my home
Full of eerie sights, weird and skeery sights
Ev'ry vicious animal that creeps and crawls and bites!!
On the Amazon, the prophylactics prowl On the Amazon, the hypodermics howl On
the Amazon, you'll hear a scarab scowl and sting zodiacs on the wing
All the stalactites and vicious vertebrae
Hunt the stalagmites while laryngitis slay
All that parasites that come from Paraguay in the spring
Hmm, hmm hmmm
Snarling equinox among the rocks will seize you
And the fahrenheit comes out at night to freeze you
Wild duodenum are lurking in the trees
And the jungle swarms with green apostrophes
Oh, the Amazon is calling me
On the Amazon, the pax vobiscum bite
On the Amazon, the epiglottis fight
On the Amazon, the hemispheres at night all slink where the agnostics drink
All the hippodromes that lie concealed in mud
Hunt the metronomes that live in swamp and flood
Then the kodachromes run out and drink their blood, poor ginks
While velocipedes among the weeds will scare you
And the menopause with hungry jaws ensnares you
Frenzied adenoids infest the hills and slopes
Everyone avoids the deadly stethoscopes
Oh, the Amazon is calling
Yes, the Amazon is calling
Oh, the Amazon is calling me-ee!!
song performed by by Don McLean
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Amazon
she goes around the world
showing how crafty she is with
her spear, At her feet lay mighty
men of valor. The sound of her feet
brings fear and harm.
The amazon she spare not even the
flys, who can withstand her fury?
who can stop her from kill her
prey? be surrounded by many
trees.
The amazon on her horse the
leaves bow before her, The
men sing the song of praise for
her utmost.
The amazon she is the victor of her
time.
poem by Enyinwa Okechukwu Enyinwa
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Disaster of matrimony
The system of matrimony crumbles;
The virtue of monogamy crumbles.
A trust worthy marital life in vogue
Will no longer be a guarantee.
Partners shift, lured by erotic pleasure,
At the cost of durable partnerships.
Each couple lives with uncertainty.
Prosperity and promiscuity
Are twin goals people are madly after.
Once one’s sexual cycle comes to an end,
Man and woman will be left high and dry
To exit with out a committed soul to nurse.
10.05.2010
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Over Popularity
Partnership crumbles even with brothers
If either of them is over-productive.
Family crumbles even with spouses
If one of them is over-popular.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Amazon Queen
Pounding hellishly the rain has no business destroying me,
My journey is never to end.
Pounding continuously is the water of a scientific kind,
The one we call acid-rain.
Pounding relentlessly are the drops that collect and form floods,
We are too worried of them.
Pounding on us is the liquid I call a storming rain-fall,
In the Amazon rain-forest, where the long river is also.
Pounding on us is the humidity derived from the weather
That never ceases in its changes and profits only.
Pounding heavily and beating the branches is the windy-rain
That lives among the Jungle, that lifts the river
And makes it briefly breath.
Pounding the earth are the Amazonians and their Queen,
Biggest warriors of the undergrowth and canopies,
Huger in conflict than the mercenaries of a war itself.
Pounding on us is the Queen of the Amazon,
The River-Mighty,
The Bleeding-Woman,
A Woman that is Queen and aims to expell us.
We stop and stare to find our heads being shot at from all sides,
Front, Back, Left and Right Flank. We have no chance, and they are
Pounding us with arrows of a different kind -
Poisoned Arrows!
One has hit my ribs and cracked one perfectly,
The other has landed in my neck!
Alas Amazon Queen, your nature is hidden now.
I lay under the trees with the pounding of the rain, in peace.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Futurism
Ignorance pulls
Apostasy and apathy still rules
Yeah you know it's cool
Just suck and see
A future turn us into silent gods
And I won't miss you at all
Grounded
Boxed in
Like the evil in your veins
Grounded
Boxed in
I am stuck with you
Fate can't decide
Alignment of the planets in your hands
Come on crush our plans
Just suck and see
A future that won't let you disagree
And I won't miss you at all
Grounded
Boxed in
Like the evil in your veins
Grounded
Boxed in
Feeling feeling everything
Feeling feeling everything
song performed by by Muse
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My mom is...
My mom is mean,
cause she grounded me.
My friends say she's nice,
but that's just her disguise.
My mom is okay,
cause I'm not grounded today.
My mom is GREAT,
and it's not up for debate!
My mom is fun,
I think she's number one.
But my mom has flaws,
just like everyone else.
They are not against the law,
and she has room to care about us and herself.
poem by Burpsn Farts
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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
woman woman woman woman woman woman woman
woman woman woman woman woman woman woman
woman woman woman woman woman woman woman
woman woman woman woman woman woman woman
woman woman woman woman woman woman woman
woman woman woman woman woman woman woman
woman woman woman woman woman woman woman
woman woman woman woman woman woman woman
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Truly Sorry
take your sorry with you, and face the inevitable,
i am done taking stock. building inventory of 'i am sorry'
sorry i called you a liar,
sorry i believed your friend, when she said 'she is no good for you'.
sorry i wasn't there for your big night,
sorry that i couldn't get away,
and be accosted by your 'nagging'.
take your sorry, and of with you, and be damned.
i absolve the minute details of being you lover,
sorry for the inquisitive looks. when you smelt not of his cologne,
her, and my lingering scent.
take your sorry,
launder it.
taken your sorry for far to long,
and time past, the world was awash with impunity.
awash with clemency.
take your sorry and save a soul.
poem by Angella Wangari Kariuki
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Bad Grades
grounded,
really, really grounded
because of my grades
it's not my fault
the teacher does not......
like me.
that's why I'm sitting alone
all alone at home
without a friend to cry to
because they're at the game
and I'm sitting in shame
with a bag of chips on my lap.
poem by Faith Franklin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
woman woman woman woman woman woman
woman woman woman woman woman woman
woman woman woman woman woman woman
woman woman woman woman woman woman
woman woman woman woman woman woman
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Crimson Hues
When the sky is awash with a crimson hues
at twilight time
it’s suppose to mean there is a fair day ahead.
When the sky is awash with a crimson hues
at the dawn rise
it’s suppose to mean there is a stormy day ahead.
Does that only relate to the weather
or does it mean our lives to,
we can only wait and see
the next time there is a crimson hues.
8 November 2009
poem by David Harris
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Leading Figure
A woman well rounded…
Not conceited but grounded…
Angel or hell sounded…
A protagonist by any means…
Sweet and gentle…
Outward it seems…
A man needs to know…
With respect…
There is no to and fro…
So with her you most flow…
She is not insane…
As you to know…
Just a woman on the go…
Treated as the woman she is…
Allows mans kindness…
To go along way…
Conversation is good…
If you know when and how…
To bring the hood…
Her and abuse don’t get along…
And man…
You can’t talk no sh-…
For if you are a fake…
Alone you will wake…
She yarns (sensibility) …
It shows a different quality…
For the man she seeks…
Now that she is at her peak…
For there is nothing she…
Would not do…
For the man she can call…
Boo…
The gentle Lion must be felt…
And not physically dealt…
Not a roar…
But his…
Whisper…
Peace and understanding…
Keeps her strong…
Now…guys in who’s…
Arms do you belong…
Whisperkwane
swtlamb@ya hoo.com
poem by whisperkwane Lamb
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Visions of grace
i’m looking for the face i had before the world was made
I was the primordial flaring forth, the gravitational waves,
the whirling galaxies, and the exploding supernovas that would become stars and planets.
I was the steaming planet Earth, the bacteria awash in the sea,
and the early eukaryotes and multicellular animals.
I exploded in the Cambrian explosion, stumbled onto land,
walked with dinosaurs, saw trees and flowers appear, walked upright in Africa, and walked on the moon.
I felt the embrace of gravity. I was one with all that had been and all that was to be.
I experienced subjective mystical communion with the evolutionary, emergent universe. I was the universe.
We know not where the journey leads, nor whether a final destination is even a meaningful concept.
The attraction is the inherent thrill of participating in a grand creative endeavor for which participation is its own reward.
poem by Alexis Karpouzos from Deadline (15 April 2017), translated by Alexis Karpouzos
Submitted by Mary karas
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Ocean Awash The Gunwale
By g.allman, d. toler & t. colton
Our lives are hanging in a balance
Or theyre dangling by a thread
A spark of life brought down from an angel
To raise the stranger from the dead
Once more were cheating on the
With all the gypsy in our souls
Cause I know theres a God up in heaven
Who must love rock and roll
Once again we sail home to sarasota
With the ocean awash the gunwale
But she still keeps her head above water
Guess were all gonna live to tell this tale
Heres to the boys in the band forever hangin on
Without you theres no reason to go
Id be lying face down in some river
Waiting on an angel to take me back home
Once again we sail home to sarasota
With the ocean awash the gunwale
But she still keeps her head above water
Guess were all gonna live to tell this tale
Solo:
Once again we sail home to sarasota
With the ocean awash the gunwale
But she still keeps her head above water
Guess were all gonna live to tell this tale
song performed by by Allman Brothers Band
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Woman and Pride
Woman roar
Woman show
Woman dance
Woman fight
Woman win
Woman cry
Now this woman's pride
lies in her tears
Woman's pride...............
Woman's life
Woman's private
Woman's movie
Woman's dream
Woman's cohabit with her renter
Woman's living away from the outside world
Woman's pride......................
poem by Yihuai Ying
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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
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
woman woman woman woman woman woman
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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