Women : Power
a series of poems
featuring the words of BHD, Dewi, marika bianca, Meg, Orisirisi, Rachel B. Baxter, samantha star, Tamyka Bell, Tasneem Kagalwalla, Tre L. Loadholt, Violet and Wild Flower
art by Ernio Hernandez © 2016–2017
she — by marika bianca
a cinquain chain
she walks with her head up — wears tight jeans while speaking her truth — stands up, runs the gauntlet; swallows.
swallows — holding your gaze, gives zero fucks and knows you’re watching — she’s a survivor; she fights.
she fights — chasing dreams and doing laundry, she has strength — defying the status quo; unfazed
unfazed — much tougher than she looks with all that weight on her shoulders — fierce — unflinching; she walks
Frailty — by Orisirisi
As I hug her, her skin so soft to the touch it strikes me that as a child I never realised I love her so much. She takes longer to move than in days past She smiles more, hesitates less There is a silent confidence she has that only in my wildest dreams could I hope to possess.
Her words make the sound, not her voice When her wisdom speaks, everything else becomes background noise.
She sees the frailty in my eyes In hers, strength is all I see She assures me I will find my own power in time and because I am her child, I agree.
From Within — by Violet Oh Violet
a villanelle
As My hair flows in the breeze Some may think I’m carefree, however Do not mistake the power in me
Some days I am like the calm of the seas As the seagulls gracefully fly over As My hair flows in the breeze
In my immaturity, I used to flee Fear held me at bay, however Do not mistake the power in me
Resilience now lives in me Strength and fortitude under cover As My hair flows in the breeze
I rise up to embrace my raging seas In my presence, you will shudder Do not mistake the power in me
I shall not waver, as you can clearly see I no longer feel smothered As My hair flows in the breeze Do not mistake the power in me
Reclaiming Lipstick Shades — by Rachel B. Baxter
Ever since she turned sixteen, She ritually put on lipstick Every single day, Just like her mom did and Her grandma did before her. She never wore it to attract or please men outright, Though the names of her favorite shades Like “Coy,” “Flirty,” and “Demure” Suggested otherwise.
So, rather than be defined by the names Printed in tiny lettering at the bottom of the tubes, She took a Sharpie to them And, graffiti-style, wrote her new names In bold letters Up and down the sides of the tubes. There was a coral pink she called “Ambitious,” A rose hue she named “Victory,” And a deep oxblood she called “Way With Words.”
But, by then, her courageous new titles Were beginning to get too long To scratch on little lipstick tubes, So she scrapped the lipstick altogether And started writing books instead.
This woman — by Tamyka Bell
She speaks in words of courage, hope and power, this woman; she leads me out of darkness, where I cower, this woman.
When desert sands encroach upon our homelands, she stands strong, she washes dust away with love’s light shower, this woman.
When men rise up to tear me down, and leave me in ruins, it’s her hands that rebuild my sacred tower, this woman.
When life surrenders to chaos and colours start to fade, she spreads love’s seeds, a bee upon a flower, this woman.
When she laughs, her eyes dance with the music. But don’t be fooled — she’s made warriors fall before her glower, this woman.
When life provides no comfort and I need a place to hide, she shelters me, a child inside her bower, this woman.
When time runs out for me, and I must leave this world behind, she’ll be there for me in my final hour, this woman.
Unshackled — by Wild Flower
Words of hate hurled from insidious tongue sitting beneath bruised skin.
She walks resiliently, shoulders holding knowledge; I am that I am
You cannot breach unbreakable walls, you cannot teach warrior blood.
Spear in hand, heart on sleeve, world at her feet.
Unshackled now she screams
“My Power was never yours”
Dedicated to Jennifer Killgore with love x
Feminine Power — by BHD
Feminism and Femininity How did they become a dichotomy? Strong and Weak One shouts, the other hardly speaks. Bitch and Demure Confidence reviled, or praised for being unsure. Ugly and Beautiful Sour grapes, or a tender mouthful. Change or Tradition Stereotypes and clichés abandoned, or life a restrained volition?
The Beauty of Strength — by Tre L. Loadholt
she — a mold breaker
sparing nothing everyday carries intense weight on surefire shoulders that fold into the depths of light.
seasoned with hands of
time — a chore to load heavy whispers of regret from one place to another with a smile and no complaints.
find her in sweet dreams
shifting demons with her lips, bidding a farewell. the tasks at hand never end not when life continues on…
True Nature — by Meg
She inspires Her strength commands Magnetism Liquid power Born of her core Elemental Potential Her true nature
SHE IS A WOMAN — by samantha star
She is a Woman She is a lady, she cries She is a child, she dreams She is powerful, she is strong She is the soft whisper The essence of creation
Yet she cannot shine
If not for the support of the super men in her life Her solid and protective father Her doting, admiring husband or Her boyfriend who lights her fire The affectionate love of a son who reminds her of her worth every single day
Yes she can shine
Brighter than a million fireflies in the night The world is her oyster, the world is within her grasp With the love of the nurturing men in her life She catches her breath She is an unstoppable force and cannot be contained History has shown us what terror women have endured at the hands of devious men In spite of past injustices — She shines bright, knowing her men have her back — and when she needs that net, she has a shoulder to cry on
She is a woman Let her shine
Bamboo Dance — by Dewi
that silent, hidden twinkle of spirit that holds her, strings she sways from, the way she bends, just so whirlwinds pass her by, yet she waits, long for her to tread on, steps that crushes no insect dreams, on her way, with no singling finger points, no caresses for anger that teases, no scales brass nor hide, but of course she hurts, she let them, me, pierce those tiny holes, and through these they bore in her, still music shall she make
Of my mother.
I am a woman — Tasneem Kagalwalla
I am a woman… I wear my strength with grace test me anytime, any place I’m reliability in your face consistency is my pace I come from a loving space resilient in my spirit I stand; you can lean on me embraced I won’t let you down I’ll give you my hand to hold my shoulder to cry on you can even have my spine when you can’t stand on your own.
I am a woman I wear my strength with pride my mettle is in my mind don’t you get fooled by my kind the kindness you see is the skin I wear my muscle lives in my guts the size, extent, magnitude of which you cannot fathom, none can find my grit is my own you look at me you see my body not my brawn I keep my spunk safe, in my back bone.
I am woman I wear my strength with dignity in my halo colors reflecting of my smile warm my eyes a deep shade of everything worthwhile indeed I am… I am a woman.
with thanks to BHD, Dewi, marika bianca, Meg, Orisirisi, Rachel B. Baxter, samantha star, Tamyka Bell, Tasneem Kagalwalla, Tre L. Loadholt, Violet and Wild Flower
and love and gratitude to all women
