National Poem In Your Pocket Day

My Pledge of Allegiance to Me

There’s more to me than the human eye can see.

I’m a woman of purpose and destiny.

A perfect design, I’m special and unique.

I won’t be identified by the parts that make

up my physique.

My beauty is not defined by my skin or my hair

and my soul has more value than

 the clothes that I wear.

I’m not a symbol of pleasure or sex appeal;

I have the natural ability to comfort

and the power to heal.

When God made me, He created a gem

because He fashioned me in the likeness of Him.

I refuse to do anything that will put God to shame.

I deserve to be treated with reverence

and called by my name.

I can’t be purchased or sold at any price

because I’ve already been bought and paid

for by the precious blood of Christ!

Written by Letitia L. Hodge

Poetry For Women (For Women, By Women, About Women)

A Womans Worth

She gave life. She is a wife.
She is a mother and she is a friend.
She is a sister a survivor to the end.

Appreciate her, we don’t dare.
Ask her worries, we don’t care.
Wipe away her tears, they are invisible as air.

She works cooks and clean.
She laughs, helps comfort, and hides her pain.
When you struggle she pulls you through

All this is she and what do we do?
Complain and create a mess.
Provide stress and leave her feeling depressed..
Push her away and ignore her advice.
Tell her she is nothing without thinking twice.

She was raped tortured and abused.
Told she was nothing and would always be used just for pleasure forget her pain.

She swallows her pride, put her feelings aside.
Does as you need in order for you to be free.
Ignores your ignorance and tolerates your flaws.
You call her Bitch, Slut, Hoe and Tramp
She answers with pride dignity and a complete loss of self.
You call her nothing.
I call her Strong, Smart, Sensual, Caring, Giving, Surviving, Tolerant and powerful
I call her WOMAN!

© Ashanti Holliday                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                            Source: http://www.familyfriendpoems.com/poem/a-womans-worth#ixzz2xflIsfuN
Family Friend Poems

Poetry For Women (By Women, For Women, About Women)

AFTER TEARS COMES FURY


After tears comes fury
Rage, simple and true
Tears are everything women are supposed to be
Weak and powerless
Prone to emotional outbursts
Unable to defend herself
But when the tears are gone
And society has had its say
The fury breaches the surface.
Beware a tear stricken women
For she has broken her chains
And is set loose with rage
Ready to raze those she meets to the ground
After tears comes fury
And when the fury fills your veins,
Giving you the strength you need
Letting you feel powerful,
The world will tremble at your feet

 J_Kreider

Poetry For Women (For Women, By Women, About Women)

FREE BUT UNEQUAL

Have we not progressed?
What kind of world are we living in?
Women getting smaller wages?
Men telling us to get back in the kitchen?
We are worth more than we get credit for
We have more to offer than to kitchen slave
To cook and clean for husbands
Giving birth to children to raise
The head of the house should be a partnership
Both the husband and the wife
Each should have a part
In making the decisions in life
Isn't equality for women
Something we worked on years ago?
But men still get higher wages than us
And that just goes to show
That men still think they are better
They think they rule this land
That women are just helpless
So they take the upper hand
But truth is we aren't helpless
And we deserve equal rights
In work, school, and home
And it has become a huge plight
We are moving forward
And while American may be "free"
This country cannot be deemed fair
Until everyone is given rights and equality


 Emily091

Retrieved, March 15, 2014 from http://www.powerpoetry.org/poems/free-unequal

Poetry for Women (For Women, By Women, About Women)

Girls vs. Women

Girls are insecure; Women are confident.
Girls dress trashy; Women dress classy.
Girls are students; Women are teachers.
Girls are listeners; Women are preachers.
Girls makes babies; Women raise babies.
Girls have sex; Women make love.
Girls are weak; Women are strong.
Girls fight; Women walk away.
Girls argue; Women speak.
Girls give in; Women compromise.
Girls envy. Women appreciate.
Girls give up. Women strive.
Girls look. Women see.
Girls take. Women give.
Girls follow; Women influence.



Christina E. Brown

Poetry for Women (By Women, For Women, About Women)

The Old Stage Queen


by: Ella Wheeler Wilcox (1850-1919)
 
Back in the box by the curtains shaded,
She sits alone by the house unseen;
Her eye is dim, her cheek is faded,
She who was once the people's queen.

The curtain rolls up, and she sees before her
A vision of beauty and youth and grace.
Ah! no wonder all hearts adore her,
Silver-throated and fair of face.

Out of her box she leans and listens;
Oh, is it with pleasure or despair
That her thin cheek pales and her dim eye glistens,
While that fresh young voice sings the grand old air?

She is back again in the Past's bright splendor--
When life seemed worth living, and love a truth,
Ere Time had told her she must surrender
Her double dower of fame and youth.

It is she herself who stands there singing
To that sea of faces that shines and stirs;
And the cheers on cheers that go up ringing
And rousing the echoes--are hers--all hers.

Just for one moment the sweet delusion
Quickens her pulses and blurs her sight,
And wakes within her that wild confusion
Of joy that is anguish and fierce delight.

Then the curtain goes down and the lights are gleaming
Brightly o'er circle and box and stall.
She starts like a sleeper who wakes from dreaming--
Her past lies under a funeral pall.

Her day is dead and her star descended,
Never to rise or shine again;
Her reign is over--her Queenship ended--
A new name is sounded and sung by men.

All the glitter and glow and splendor,
All the glory of that lost day,
With the friends that seemed true, and the love that seemed tender,
Why, what is it all but a dead bouquet?

She rises to go. Has the night turned colder?
The new Queen answers to call and shout;
And the old Queen looks back over her shoulder,
Then all unnoticed she passes out.

Poetry For Women (By Women, For Women, About Women)

AIN'T I A WOMEN?

Photo Credits from http://ionenewsone.files.wordpress.com/2012/11/sojourner-truth.jpg

That man over there say

     a woman needs to be helped into carriages

and lifted over ditches

     and to have the best place everywhere.

Nobody ever helped me into carriages

     or over mud puddles

     or gives me a best place...

And ain't I a woman?

     Look at me

Look at my arm!

     I have plowed and planted

and gathered into barns

     and no man could head me...

And ain't I a woman?

     I could work as much

and eat as much as a man —

     when I could get to it —

and bear the lash as well

     and ain't I a woman?

I have born 13 children

     and seen most all sold into slavery

and when I cried out a mother's grief

     none but Jesus heard me...

And ain't I a woman?

     that little man in black there say

a woman can't have as much rights as a man

     cause Christ wasn't a woman

Where did your Christ come from?

     From God and a woman!

Man had nothing to do with him!

     If the first woman God ever made

was strong enough to turn the world

     upside down, all alone

together women ought to be able to turn it

     rightside up again.

Copyright © Sojourner Truth, 1852.

Poem by Sojourner Truth (1797-1883)

Poetry for Women (By Women, For Women, About Women)

THE PEARL

Photo credit due to http://cdn.shopify.com/s/files/1/0177/1012/files/tahitian_pearls_1_grande.jpg?1621

When I was born, my mother gave me a pearl
It was flawless and shiny and beautiful and mine
As I grew she told me that my pearl was precious
And it was
She told me it was special
That I could do with it what I wanted
She said it was mine and no one could take it away from me
I kept it safely on my neck, so no one could take it away

When I was 16, a boy, a charming boy came by
He was sweet and kind, he told me so many nice things, until
Until he took my pearl
He smashed into thousands of pieces
He didn’t stop until it was nothing but an ugly dust
Then he lay the shards back in my outstretched hands

When I told people of his treachery
They said I deserved it for displaying it so proudly
They said that’s what boys do
They blamed me for giving my pearl worth
They, who taught me the virtue of my pearl,
Now attacked me for seeing its value
And not the boy who hadn’t
Not the boy who took it from me and destroyed it while I watched helplessly


 -- Coley Poet