Ultimate Sacrifice
A woman giving birth
Replenishes Mother Earth
Mother Nature’s humanity and myriad mirth
Destruction of Life by bombs and war
The universe will always abhor
Annihilation, war’s consummate whore
The stars cry innocent blood galore
Bodies of blood from shore to shore
The death of Life by bombs and war
A woman birthing Life
The Ultimate Sacrifice
Nothin man-made can suffice
The female impetus-the incomprehensible birth-rite
The Ultimate Sacrifice
A Woman giving Life
poem by Josephine DixonBanks
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Related quotes
The Women
This world is, because of the woman
this universe is, because of the woman
nothing exists without the woman
our existence is, because of the woman.
Why being a woman then
should be humiliation?
Why a woman then
should face indignation?
always the woman becomes the prey...?
always the woman has no say.....?
The woman is a mother, also a mother–in-law
the woman is a sister, also a sister-in-law
the woman has many roles to play
a daughter-in-law perfects that night & day.
Why then a woman does
torture another woman?
Why does a ma-in-law
torches a daughter in-law?
Why does a woman destroy another’s world?
Why does jealousy overcomes a sister-in-law?
In the woman, power is manifest,
yet she is unaware and that is a jest.
she becomes Durga when in rage
telling everyone, she is no sage
the woman is where, awakening is there
her absence creates crematoriums everywhere.
Why do then a woman abhor the birth of a female?
Wants a child, whose gender is male?
the male is indebted to her for the courage and life
yet no rewards for the woman, her entire life.
This is the story of the woman, full of anguish
Plight of a woman is because of another’s wish
Exploitation of the woman could not have taken place
Had a woman given the other a little more space.
poem by Tribhawan Kaul
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Ancestral Woman
I was never child
My maternal granny called me an old, old soul
I seen time come and go
I gave birth to giving birth
Ain’t nothin I don’t know
The sun is my shade I pull it down to allow darkness and light
To give birth to the same day, the eternal now
Then, you ask me, as woman
Then, you ask me, as a colored woman
Then, you ask me, as a female
Then, you ask me, as a black female
Then, you ask me, as a Mother
Then, you ask me, as the epitome of androgeny
What is my contribution, evolution ain’t as old
I been in the grave, beyond the grave
I been the grave, I had to brave the newness of oldness
I remember when silence was communication
Being blind the revelation
Not knowing the greatest education
Nothingness the only information
I am the past, my innateness the futre
My being the immediate now
I am the ancient androgenous embryo
I render gender apropos
I survived domestice violence and sexual abuse
Being told I am of no use
Cause I won’t accept yo validation
As my self-reaization
Then, you ask me, as a woman
Then, you ask me, as a colored woman
Then, you ask me, as a female
Then, you ask me, as a black female
Then, you ask me, as a Mother
Then, you ask me, as the epitome of androgeny
What is my contribution, evolution ain’t as old
I been the grave, beyond the grave
I been the grave, I had to brave the newness of oldness
How does it feel being a Woman
It feels like
I Am all, in all, sustain all, absolutely independent of all
My power never diminishes
Life never starts, never finishes
I come from The Woman we are
She is the ultimate extended family
There is only One Woman
She is the innate evidence exuding all women
My very composition is memories of being other women
I am made of every Woman
Then again, so is existence
I Am The Temple minus the veil
I, Am still waiting to exhale
Then, you ask me, as a woman
Then, you ask me, as a colored woman
Then, you ask me, as a female
Then, you ask me, as a black female
Then, you ask me, as a Mother
Then, you ask me, as the epitome of androgeny
What is my contribution, evolution ain’t as old
I been in the grave, beyond the grave, I been the grave
I had to brave the newness of oldness
Then, you ask me what, is my contribution
poem by Josephine DixonBanks
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Madonna Whore
What are you thinking when you're looking at me
What can you tell me of reality?
I'm only woman... not just a Fantasy
and the flesh and blood is warmer than some color transparency
Every woman's a Madonna; every woman's a whore
You can try to reduce me but I'm so much more
I don't want to be your mother; won't be shoved in a drawer
cause every woman's a Madonna, every woman's a whore, that's right
What are you thinking when you push me away
Was it some promise in your youth you made?
Holding out for something or hoping to be saved
Does it make you feel power or are you just afraid of me?
Every woman's a Madonna; every woman's a whore
You can try to reduce me but I'm so much more
I don't want to be your mother; won't be shoved in a drawer
cause every woman's a Madonna, every woman's a whore, that's right
I don't know
if you say so
got so many do's and don'ts my head is spinning
Hey Romeo, j-j-j-just let get go
maybe everything could use a little sinning
Every woman's a Madonna; every woman's a whore
You can try and reduce me but I'm so much more
I don't want to be your mother; won't be shoved in a drawer
cause every woman's a Madonna, every woman's a whore
Every woman's a Madonna; every woman's a whore
You can try and reduce me but I'm so much more
I don't want to be your mother; won't be shoved in a drawer
cause every woman's a Madonna, every woman's a whore, that's right
You can try to reduce me but I'm so much more
I don't want to be your mother; won't be shoved in a drawer
cause every woman's a Madonna, every woman's a whore, that's right
song performed by by Cyndi Lauper
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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On Abortion
on abortion...
those who rage against abortion
most often do not put themselves
in the position of the mother.
while all of life is sacred,
there are times when abortion
becomes necessary.
when the mother's life is in danger,
in cases of rape,
in cases where the mother
cannot be the mother...
and only the mother-to-be
has the right to make this decision.
it is the woman's choice, bottom line.
we must educate ourselves
so that we know that all choices
have their costs...
again, it is the woman's choice.
abortion was never meant to be birth control,
but sometimes, it is the best option.
again, it is the woman's choice!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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A Life Pops Out
A life pops out
When the mother is giving birth
Today
And at the same time she is feeling the pain of giving birth
Birth doesn't come without pain
Because pain is the part of giving birth
poem by Aldo Kraas
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Life Pops Out Song
A life pops out
When the mother is giving birth
Today
And at the same time she is feeling the pain of giving birth
Birth doesn't come without pain
Because pain is the part of giving birth
poem by Aldo Kraas
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Nature and Woman
Nature and woman
Both are weakness for man
One sheds tear
Another is made to bear
One is ready to offer
Another is ready to suffer
Both identical but different in approach
Noble thoughts for sacrifice as such
Nature is kind
So is the woman very much blind
Gives everything for slight pretext
Without thinking what will be next
Nature has everything in abundance
Women have character by chance
Both stand for giving away the pride
Come closer when wish to confide
Women are worth to be adored
So is the nature to be explored
One may dedicate for whole life
Another may bless for future life
So do we need to be grateful?
Think of wisely and remain faithful
Do nothing contrary to cause harm
When they both are ready to welcome
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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Angels Tears
(5/15/12)
The angels are crying from what they see
The destruction of GODS creations by humanity.
The raindrops that come down to cleanse the earth
Are the angels teardrops releasing their hurt.
If you was to taste the rain and find
that salty taste, it was because it
just ran down their face.
This is the bitter sweet times in life
When we don't make any sacrifice.
Yet when you see a sun shower - it is
their happy tears that bring out the flowers.
Their tears of joy when everything is going right
And humanity is making a sacrifice.
They're opening their eyes to what technology
Is doing to the rain forests and the destruction
Of the trees and streams, it is all now being seen.
Groups of people are being formed all around the earth
And their cries are giving birth.
"Save all that GOD has given, this is what makes life worth living."
The angels now hear their battle cries
As the tears flow from their eyes
Maybe there is hope and salvation
For all of GODS creations.
© RAMS
poem by Louis Rams
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He Was Born In Ussr
He was born in USSR
At the hospital there
At 5: 30 am
And that was the time that his mother gave birth to him
But I remember that she said that giving birth was very hard
And I can say to that
Thanks God that men don't give birth
Because I don't think they would want to go through with it
Knowing that there is pain in giving birth to a baby
But when he was 13 he moved from USSR to United States
So that he could get a god education
And a good job in his life
poem by Aldo Kraas
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When A Woman Loves A Man
when the stars are in her eyes,
and the sun is in her smile,
the only moment in my life,
that happens the same time,
is when a woman loves a man,
she'd be a mother and our child
sacrifice the days and nights,
and the world
shed put her life in every kiss
when a woman loves a man
and youll be amazed how
when you stumble in,
shell fight for you,
and wont let you give in,
shell do all that she can,
when a woman loves a man
a soothing breeze always blows,
somebody understands another soul,
its like the planet of our lives,
ever since this has arrived
when a woman loves a man
oh youll be amazed how
when you need her there,
shell fight for you,
every minute till the end,
shell do all that she can,
when a woman loves a man,
its the greatest gift of all
hoping that ill convince that i can catch you when you fall
song performed by by Westlife
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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On the First Night
On the first night
of the full moon,
the primeval sack of ocean
broke,
& I gave birth to you
little woman,
little carrot top,
little turned-up nose,
pushing you out of myself
as my mother
pushed
me out of herself,
as her mother did,
& her mother's mother before her,
all of us born
of woman.
I am the second daughter
of a second daughter
of a second daughter,
but you shall be the first.
You shall see the phrase
'second sex'
only in puzzlement,
wondering how anyone,
except a madman,
could call you 'second'
when you are so splendidly
first,
conferring even on your mother
firstness, vastness, fullness
as the moon at its fullest
lights up the sky.
Now the moon is full again
& you are four weeks old.
Little lion, lioness,
yowling for my breasts,
growling at the moon,
how I love your lustiness,
your red face demanding,
your hungry mouth howling,
your screams, your cries
which all spell life
in large letters
the color of blood.
You are born a woman
for the sheer glory of it,
little redhead, beautiful screamer.
You are no second sex,
but the first of the first;
& when the moon's phases
fill out the cycle
of your life,
you will crow
for the joy
of being a woman,
telling the pallid moon
to go drown herself
in the blue ocean,
& glorying, glorying, glorying
in the rosy wonder
of your sunshining wondrous
self.
poem by Erica Jong
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Nursing You
On the first night
of the full moon,
the primeval sack of ocean
broke,
& I gave birth to you
little woman,
little carrot top,
little turned-up nose,
pushing you out of myself
as my mother
pushed
me out of herself,
as her mother did,
& her mother's mother before her,
all of us born
of woman.
I am the second daughter
of a second daughter
of a second daughter,
but you shall be the first.
You shall see the phrase
'second sex'
only in puzzlement,
wondering how anyone,
except a madman,
could call you 'second'
when you are so splendidly
first,
conferring even on your mother
firstness, vastness, fullness
as the moon at its fullest
lights up the sky.
Now the moon is full again
& you are four weeks old.
Little lion, lioness,
yowling for my breasts,
rowling at the moon,
how I love your lustiness,
your red face demanding,
your hungry mouth howling,
your screams, your cries
which all spell life
in large letters
the color of blood.
You are born a woman
for the sheer glory of it,
little redhead, beautiful screamer.
You are no second sex,
but the first of the first;
& when the moon's phases
fill out the cycle
of your life,
you will crow
for the joy
of being a woman,
telling the pallid moon
to go drown herself
in the blue ocean,
& glorying, glorying, glorying
in the rosy wonder
of your sunshining wondrous
self.
poem by Erica Jong
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Love Written In Passion Blood
love is written in warm passion blood
life is written in lust stirring flow blood
union is written in rich soul merging blood
blood in all union gift birth children born
blood bled in surge birth new life
blood corrupted death end finale life
blood love warm pure pumps renewal
blood flesh pierced sword's blade
blood climatic performance act ends
blood in taste of virgin experience death
contradiction the birth of life the birth of death
music cosmic soars at moment of conception
a moment seals love passion or life rape ripped
life poem writ contains such complexity such depth
lucky are lines life focus love given in glad glee read
glad for startling insight thoughts reflections merry
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Such is a Woman’s worth
What is a Woman Worth?
What is woman worth in stature
If not a priceless entity of passion and beauty?
A Queen unrivalled in all of nature.
Such is a Woman’s worth
Is she not the bearer of Man?
Then afford her the ultimate Honour
And cherish that notion oft as you can
Such is a Woman’s worth
Above even man, she stands
In all that is life and love and far beyond
Loving heart and warm hands
Such is a Woman’s worth
Man cannot be without her care
Nor find comfort in his kind
For there is no substitute out there
Such is a Woman’s worth.
Such then is a woman's worth.
Born to captivate, man to salivate
Unequaled in rapture, worthy of capture
poem by Martino Fortuin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My Prize
As queen you have been giving…
A set of characteristics…
Which set you apart…
In your soul, mind and heart…
Your body designed…within a great…
MIND…
Your heart is like the universe…
Having no end…
How on you…can man sin…
You who are the bees nectar…
The roots of plants…
You are woman…That mighty oak…
A bridge over trouble waters…
A GOD sent…
A precious creation…as is man…
But, you stand out…
Giving birth and all…
Having a warm cave of entry…
Tasteful…if need be… :)
You are man's paradise here on this earth…
Why can't (man) see your worth…
And never abuse but consciously respect…
You as the woman GOD…
Gave to man to make man…
A man among men…
Woman…I…LOVE…YOU…
Whisperkwane@gma il.com
poem by whisperkwane Lamb
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Whore! ! !
Whore! ! !
Man meets woman she was working the night
Man falls in love boy she had him in her sight
Man says the Thunderbolt struck, she uses it to take all his might
Whore! ! !
Man makes so many mistakes including divorcing his wife
Man gives woman EVERYTHING his body, his soul, his life
Man leaves all that he knows behind in just two weeks with the woman, only now he feels the knife
Whore! ! !
Man provides and protects the woman taking all her cares away
Man completely changes his life thinking that God blessed him that day
Man shuts out all his friends to make more time only for her, all he wants is for her to stay
Whore! ! !
Man is stunned and shocked when the woman won't defend
Man knows this is the issue and he will no longer pretend
Man sees the woman for who she really was and knows he cannot mend
Whore! ! !
Man is torn, twisted like a knife in his throat and he can't breathe
Man knows woman has done this before but yet he still doesn't want her to leave
Man begs, pleads, bears his soul, loves her with every fiber of his being and still will believe
Whore! ! !
Man learns even more about the woman and cannot believe what he hears
Man is told woman just did it with another poor sap, now he realizes his fears
Man knows now there's no honesty or loyalty with the woman, says no more years
Whore! ! !
Man thinks this whole love thing is just a bunch of bunk
Man now knows this woman was and is a Whore! , but he's strong and refuses to be in a funk
Man is done with the Whore! , and all the girls are back on me, yeah they love doing the dunk
Nursing You
On the first night
of the full moon,
the primeval sack of ocean
broke,
& I gave birth to you
little woman,
little carrot top,
little turned-up nose,
pushing you out of myself
as my mother
pushed
me out of herself,
as her mother did,
& her mother's mother before her,
all of us born
of woman.
I am the second daughter
of a second daughter
of a second daughter,
but you shall be the first.
You shall see the phrase
"second sex"
only in puzzlement,
wondering how anyone,
except a madman,
could call you "second"
when you are so splendidly
first,
conferring even on your mother
firstness, vastness, fullness
as the moon at its fullest
lights up the sky.
Now the moon is full again
& you are four weeks old.
Little lion, lioness,
yowling for my breasts,
rowling at the moon,
how I love your lustiness,
your red face demanding,
your hungry mouth howling,
your screams, your cries
which all spell life
in large letters
the color of blood.
You are born a woman
for the sheer glory of it,
little redhead, beautiful screamer.
You are no second sex,
but the first of the first;
& when the moon's phases
fill out the cycle
of your life,
you will crow
for the joy
of being a woman,
telling the pallid moon
to go drown herself
in the blue ocean,
& glorying, glorying, glorying
in the rosy wonder
of your sunshining wondrous
self.
poem by Erica Jong
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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How Beautiful Is Pregnancy
A man is so glad to know- that inside you
His child grows.
The most beautiful thing on this earth
Is a woman giving birth.
As her stomach starts to grow
And her soft caressing hands begin to show
You'll see her face take on a radiating glow.
She will see life in a different way
As her motherly instincts come into play.
her body which she had taken for granted before
Is about to open a new door.
This is the door to life
and as you do the pushing pains
From this moment on your life will change.
And when you feel that child stretching
Those walls of life
You'll know it was worth the pains and sacrifice.
You may see its head and then its face
Searching this unfamiliar place.
Looking for the warmth that it knew
When it was inside of you.
It will take some time for the child to adjust
But it'll recall your gentle touch
Now the first step comes into place
When you look at each others face.
An indefinable feeling that you can't put into words
But for nine months this child has heard.
The beating of its mothers heart
Had become as one
And a new life had begun.
Now you have become what GOD intended
A mother of life - of hopes and dreams
And all that is seen and unseen.
Look deeply into that child s eyes
And it will take you where you've
Never been before - as it opens
Up its souls door.
This is what - 'as a man'- I see
And you can't take that away from me.
poem by Louis Rams
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Mother's Son
It should never be done
For a mother to have to bury her son
In a sad tombstone filled place
Giving him over to the grounds embrace
It could have been anyone
But why, oh why was it a mother’s son?
Who decided to let him die?
What is she supposed to do?
Get back up and start to dry
The never ending tears from her eyes
He was her first and only hers
Now she’s living out the curse
Of life without him on this Earth
She remembers from his birth
Happy times, with no hurt
It could have been anyone
But why, oh why was it a mother’s son?
But over there is another
Bending, grieving a mother
But who is she to have to bear
Burdens that will always wear
On the hearts of mothers everywhere
She sees no life left to live
And yet her heart refuses to give
It is strong and will fight
And live the life
Taken away from one to young
It could have been anyone
But why, oh why was it a mother’s son?
poem by Rae Carroll
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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C. L. M.
In the dark womb where I began
My mother's life made me a man.
Through all the months of human birth
Her beauty fed my common earth.
I cannot see, nor breathe, nor stir.
But through the death of some of her.
Down in the darkness of the grave
She cannot see the life she gave.
For all her love, she cannot tell
Whether I use it ill or well,
Nor knock at dusty doors to find
Her beauty dusty in the mind.
If the grave's gates could be undone,
She would not know her little son,
I am so grown. If we should meet
She would pass by me in the street,
Unless my soul's face let her see
My sense of what she did for me.
What have I done to keep in mind
My debt to her and womankind ?
What woman's happier life repays
Her for those months of wretched days ?
For all my rnouthless body leeched
Ere Birth's releasing hell was reached ?
What have I done, or tried, or said
In thanks to that dear woman dead ?
Men triumph over women still,
Men trample women's rights at will.
And man's lust roves the world untamed.
* • * •
O grave, keep shut lest I be shamed.
poem by John Masefield (1902)
Submitted by anonym
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