Powerful and ProudI love myself. Why is this a crime?Powerful and Proud7 years ago in Literature Submissions More Like This
I love my breasts, my hips, my thighs.
I love my thoughts, feelings, intuition.
And I do not need to hear you chastise.
Just because I love me, does not
mean I need revulsion from you.
And just because I love me does not
mean I cannot love you too.
I am a woman with much love to give.
I can be intimidating, I know, but
I will NOT submit, nor surrender.
I am a weightlifter, supporting a family.
I am strong and tough, yet tender.
I am a commander, leading a company.
I am ruthless, confident, and clever.
I am an explorer sailing new waters.
I pave paths that last forever.
I am a womancapable and fierce.
I love to love, both myself and others, but,
I am NOT a slut, a cunt, a whore, or a hoe.
I am a woman with feelings same as a mans.
We both have dreams, desires, and woes.
I am proud of my beautyinner and out.
I am proud of my curves, but also my brain.
I am so much more than what you can see.
Empowering the Woman WithinI am the loverEmpowering the Woman Within7 years ago in Literature Submissions More Like This
My fist raised high into the air,
I lift my voice with the chorus of women,
We will never surrender;
We will fight until the very end.
I am compassionate
I am snug
I am loving.
I softly kiss the rosy checks of my child
Curled into my comforting bosom.
I have wiped away the tears
We are WomanWe embrace the powerWe are Woman7 years ago in Literature Submissions More Like This
arising from the center of being
spreading through every facet of life
transmitted through action
in public strife.
Flames of passion purify intent.
We hold this power in our own hands
let it alight on our shoulders
carry it out into the world
building life's content.
A myriad of shoulders
carry bright light
into the black of night
accustomed to carry burden
they shoulder hope.
A Womans Poem: Contest EntryWhat it's like to bear and suffer?A Womans Poem: Contest Entry7 years ago in Literature Submissions More Like This
So hard it is to be a mother
Tired, fretful, anxious each day
Struggling, worrying her life away
Wonders still with little hope
How much longer able to cope
Sleep so little, and weary now
Lines forming upon her brow
Pensively waiting for a break
Some rest, peace, time to take
Her will, her deed, her precious dream
within her arms and make it mean..
Something real, proud and true
hers to cherish, and keep for you
But most of us wait in vain,
Life is real and always the same
A womans heart is pure as gold,
Its beat goes on but never grows old
The light burns still and will flicker
Happiness wanes when all do bicker
Of petty things not your fault
Heart soars and her mind will vault
To a place that's quiet, filled with peace,
Love and happiness never cease
Someone loves you all the time,
Spared of rules, imagined crimes
She deserves more than this,
Gave her all and still will miss
Tenderness that's rare indeed,
but takes a chance for her
WomenWear your body with pride.Women7 years ago in Literature Submissions More Like This
Outspoken without fear.
Meet every challenge.
Embrace in self love.
Nourish your soul.
LuxuryHarmon, please, she pleaded in a soft whisper. He would make a scene, she knew. He would make a scene in the restaurant, in front of everyone, and leave her to clean up his mess. It was his new favorite thing. Harmon, please just eat your fish and we can talk to the manager later, if you still want to. The plate had come out cold, barely cold, and he'd made a snide remark to the waiter. Now he was glowering at his plate and pulling at the fish with his fork. Next he would catch a server by the elbow, or snap his fingers if he was feeling particularly indulgent. She hadn't eaten more than a bite of bread, but she'd already put her fork back on the table and folded her napkin.Luxury7 years ago in Literature Submissions More Like This
It's cold, he said just loud enough for everyone to hear. It's cold, and I won't stand for this. She watched him stand up and flag down a waiter, watched him poke the poor boy in the chest and demand the manager. She closed her eyes and shielded her face with he
Wings of PassionOn the wings of passionWings of Passion7 years ago in Literature Submissions More Like This
our spirits soar
rising with the voice of soul
from the depth of being
we feel our power fly high.
Taking motivated action
into our own hands
we feel our strength.
Powers of transformation
rise from within
flames of passion purify intent.
Substance grows in content
like the spine in the body
giving structure to emotion
on which to expand
the power within.