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Nearly every glamorous, wealthy, successful career woman you might envy now started out as some kind of schlep.

quote by Helen Gurley Brown
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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

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poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Woman Power

Youve heard of woman nation,
Well, thats coming, baby.
What we need is the power of trust,
That its coming.
Youve heard of the law of selection,
Well, thats how were gonna do it, baby.
We allow men who wanna join us
The rest can just stay by themselves.
Woman power! (woman power!)
Woman power! (woman power!)
Two thousand years of male society,
Laying fear and tyranny.
Seeking grades and money,
Clinging to values vain and phony.
Woman power! (woman power!)
Woman power! (woman power!)
Do you know that one day you lost your way, man?
Do you know that some day you have to pay, man?
Have you anything to say, man, except
Make no mistake about it, Im the president, you hear?
I wanna make one thing clear, Im the president, you hear?
Woman power! (woman power!)
Woman power! (woman power!)
You dont hear them singing songs,
You dont see them living life,
cause theyve got nothing to say, but
Make no mistake about it, Im the president, you hear?
I wanna make one thing clear, Im the president, you hear?
Woman power! (woman power!)
Woman power! (woman power!)
You may be the president now,
You may still be a man.
But you must also be a human,
So open up and join us in living.
Woman power! (woman power!)
Woman power! (woman power!)
In the coming age of feminine society,
Well regain our human dignity.
Well lay some truth and clarity
And bring back natures beauty.
Woman power! (woman power!)
Woman power! (woman power!)
Evry woman has a song to sing,
Evry woman has a story to tell.
Make no mistake about it, brothers,
We women have the power to move mountains.
Woman power! (woman power!)
Woman power! (woman power!)
Did you have to cook the meals?
Did you have to knit?

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song performed by Yoko Ono
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Woman In Me (feat. Destiny's Child)

Doo doo da da da da da
Doo doo da da da da da
Doo doo da da da da da
Doo doo da da da da da
Doo doo da da da da da
Doo doo da da da da da
Ohhhhh
The face that I see it's the woman in me
It's the woman that I wanna be
The face that I see it's the woman in me
It's the woman in me I see (I see)
As I look in, look in the mirror I see
Life is really here to be with me, oh
I can see myself getting stronger everyday
I'm not the same woman I used to be
So now I tell myself I am thinkin strong
I see the beauty lying within my soul
The face that I see it's the woman in me
It's the woman that I wanna be
The face that I see it's the woman in me
It's the woman in me I see (I see)
When I love myself I can do whatever I want
Doesn't matter what you do to me, do to me
Honest people, there's a possibility
To tell you my real reality
The face that I see it's the woman in me
It's the woman that I wanna be (I wanna be)
The face that I see it's the woman in me
It's the woman in me I see (woman in me baby)
Doo doo da da da da da
Doo doo da da da da da
Doo doo da da da da da
Doo doo da da da da da
Doo doo da da da da da
Doo doo da da da da da
Can you see the woman in me
Do you really wanna see the woman in me
Hahha, let me show you
Don't underestimate the woman I become
The woman I am
So now I tell myself that I'm thinkin I'm strong
And I see the beauty lying within my soul
The face that I see it's the woman in me
It's the woman that I wanna be (I wanna be)
The face that I see it's the woman in me
It's the woman in me I see (I see)
The face that I see it's the woman in me
It's the woman that I wanna be (I wanna be)
The face that I see it's the woman in me
It's the woman in me I see (I see)

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song performed by Jessica Simpson
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Her Bum

‘Does my bum look big in this? ’ She glared.
I gulped and stared upon the floor.
I must escape; the bedroom door
Was open. ‘Run! ’ my senses cried.
But I was numb – nerves were fried!

‘Well? ’ She scowled. I sought a subterfuge.
‘It’s absolutely huge! ’ I thought –
But how to tell her that–? A short
And blighted life she’d wreak on me.
And so to Wife, on bended knee

I prayed ‘Oh please release me from this hell! ’
She gave a yell: ‘So is it big? ’
I looked again – a mammoth rig
Was hanging down – but how to say?
An honest man would surely pay!

I stuttered ‘Err... well, yes it’s nice.’
Her voice was ice: ‘But in this? ’
I tried diversion with a kiss.
‘I love you’ also burbled out – but
I was heading for a rout.

I drew a breath. ‘Be a man! ’ I growled
Inside this howling, quaking head.
‘Well actually love, ’ and now I’m dead,
‘It’s colossal – a real whopper... ’
The bedroom shook; I couldn’t stop her.

I daren’t publish anymore…

Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010

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poem by Mark R Slaughter
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10:10 A.M.

10: 10 AM

by Inro Lavil

09-13-12

Woman, Woman
This may be respectful but you held me an extra month
Three blood gushed out before I was beamed by
Sunlight and you were not in a right time to deliver
Woman, why did you love me?

Woman, Woman
I might be adamant but you molded me too early
I might be the biggest fool on this world
And I hated it when you made me intelligent like them
Woman, why did you love me?

Woman, Woman
I might be so selfish but you still treated me normal
I'm not normal since I am an extra month held by you
And everyone looks at me with piercing eyes
Woman, why did you love me?

Woman, Woman
I did my best but you angrily pushed me to be more of me
I wanted to do this and that but your eyes always watched me
Like you're some kind of omniscient being in clouds
Woman, why did you love me?

Woman, Woman
I was not prepared but why did you leave me abruptly?
All these tupperwares around me hid to me your stains
The name of the pain that you have also hidden to me
Woman, why did you betray me?

Woman, Woman
Your loss gave me no Merry Christmas since you left me
I had two graduations you failed to attend and now
The third is coming, when will I hear you're proud of me?
Woman, why did you leave me?

Woman, Woman
I am free to choose my path but yours is still the one
The one I still chose since you're not here, I will
Run the steps you have walked and try to surpass them
Woman, why did you love me?

Woman, Woman
I was waiting for you on the gate every afternoon you came

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poem by Inro Lavil
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An Epistle To William Hogarth

Amongst the sons of men how few are known
Who dare be just to merit not their own!
Superior virtue and superior sense,
To knaves and fools, will always give offence;
Nay, men of real worth can scarcely bear,
So nice is jealousy, a rival there.
Be wicked as thou wilt; do all that's base;
Proclaim thyself the monster of thy race:
Let vice and folly thy black soul divide;
Be proud with meanness, and be mean with pride.
Deaf to the voice of Faith and Honour, fall
From side to side, yet be of none at all:
Spurn all those charities, those sacred ties,
Which Nature, in her bounty, good as wise,
To work our safety, and ensure her plan,
Contrived to bind and rivet man to man:
Lift against Virtue, Power's oppressive rod;
Betray thy country, and deny thy God;
And, in one general comprehensive line,
To group, which volumes scarcely could define,
Whate'er of sin and dulness can be said,
Join to a Fox's heart a Dashwood's head;
Yet may'st thou pass unnoticed in the throng,
And, free from envy, safely sneak along:
The rigid saint, by whom no mercy's shown
To saints whose lives are better than his own,
Shall spare thy crimes; and Wit, who never once
Forgave a brother, shall forgive a dunce.
But should thy soul, form'd in some luckless hour,
Vile interest scorn, nor madly grasp at power;
Should love of fame, in every noble mind
A brave disease, with love of virtue join'd,
Spur thee to deeds of pith, where courage, tried
In Reason's court, is amply justified:
Or, fond of knowledge, and averse to strife,
Shouldst thou prefer the calmer walk of life;
Shouldst thou, by pale and sickly study led,
Pursue coy Science to the fountain-head;
Virtue thy guide, and public good thy end,
Should every thought to our improvement tend,
To curb the passions, to enlarge the mind,
Purge the sick Weal, and humanise mankind;
Rage in her eye, and malice in her breast,
Redoubled Horror grining on her crest,
Fiercer each snake, and sharper every dart,
Quick from her cell shall maddening Envy start.
Then shalt thou find, but find, alas! too late,
How vain is worth! how short is glory's date!
Then shalt thou find, whilst friends with foes conspire,
To give more proof than virtue would desire,

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poem by Charles Churchill
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Ch 07 On The Effects Of Education Story 20

Contention of Sa’di with a Disputant concerning Wealth and Poverty

I saw a man in the form but not with the character of a dervish, sitting in an assembly, who had begun a quarrel; and, having opened the record of complaints, reviled wealthy men, alleging at last that the hand of power of dervishes to do good was tied and that the foot of the intention of wealthy men to do good was broken.

The liberal have no money.
The wealthy have no liberality.

I, who had been cherished by the wealth of great men, considered these words offensive and said: ‘My good friend, the rich are the income of the destitute and the hoarded store of recluses, the objects of pilgrims, the refuge of travellers, the bearers of heavy loads for the relief of others. They give repasts and partake of them to feed their dependants and servants, the surplus of their liberalities being extended to widows, aged persons, relatives and neighbours.’

The rich must spend for pious uses, vows and hospitality,
Tithes, offerings, manumissions, gifts and sacrifices.
How canst thou attain their power of doing good who art able
To perform only the prayer-flections and these with a hundred distractions?

If there be efficacy in the power to be liberal and in the ability of performing religious duties, the rich can attain it better because they possess money to give alms, their garments are pure, their reputation is guarded, their hearts are at leisure. Inasmuch as the power of obedience depends upon nice morsels and correct worship upon elegant clothes, it is evident that hungry bowels have but little strength, an empty hand can afford no liberality, shackled feet cannot walk, and no good can come from a hungry belly.

He sleeps troubled in the night
Who has no support for the morrow.
The ant collects in summer a subsistence
For spending the winter in ease.

Freedom from care and destitution are not joined together and comfort in poverty is an impossibility. A man who is rich is engaged in his evening devotions whilst another who is poor is looking for his evening meal. How can they resemble each other?

He who possesses means is engaged in worship.
Whose means are scattered, his heart is distracted.

The worship of those who are comfortable is more likely to meet with acceptance, their minds being more attentive and not distracted or scattered. Having a secure income, they may attend to devotion. The Arab says: ‘I take refuge with Allah against base poverty and neighbours whom I do not love. There is also a tradition: Poverty is blackness of face in both worlds.’ He retorted by asking me whether I had heard the Prophet’s saying: Poverty is my glory. I replied: ‘Hush! The prince of the world alluded to the poverty of warriors in the battlefield of acquiescence and of submission to the arrow of destiny; not to those who don the patched garb of righteousness but sell the doles of food given them as alms.’

O drum of high sound and nothing within,
What wilt thou do without means when the struggle comes?
Turn away the face of greed from people if thou art a man.
Trust not the rosary of one thousand beads in thy hand.

A dervish without divine knowledge rests not until his poverty, culminates in unbelief; for poverty is almost infidelity, because a nude person cannot be clothed without money nor a prisoner liberated. How can the like of us attain their high position and how does the bestowing resemble the receiving hand? Knowest thou not that God the most high and glorious mentions in his revealed word the Pleasures of paradise-They shall have a certain provision in paradise-to inform thee that those who are occupied with cares for a subsistence are excluded from the felicity of piety and that the realm of leisure is under the ring of the certain provision.

The thirsty look in their sleep
On the whole world as a spring of water.

Wherever thou beholdest one who has experienced destitution and tasted bitterness, throwing himself wickedly into fearful adventures and not avoiding their consequences, he fears not the punishment of Yazed and does not discriminate between what is licit or illicit.

The dog whose head is touched by a clod of earth
Leaps for joy, imagining it to be a bone.
And when two men take a corpse on their shoulders,
A greedy fellow supposes it to be a table with food.

But the possessor of wealth is regarded with a favourable eye by the Almighty for the lawful acts he has done and preserved from the unlawful acts he might commit. Although I have not fully explained this matter nor adduced arguments, I rely on thy sense of justice to tell me whether thou hast ever seen a mendicant with his hands tied up to his shoulders or a poor fellow sitting in prison or a veil of innocence rent or a guilty hand amputated, except in consequence of poverty? Lion-hearted men were on account of their necessities captured in mines which they had dug to rob houses and their heels were perforated. It is also possible that a dervish, impelled by the cravings of his lust and unable to restrain it, may commit sin because the stomach and the sexual organs are twins, that is to say, they are the two children of one belly and as long as one of these is contented, the other will likewise be satisfied. I heard that a dervish had been seen committing a wicked act with a youth, and although he had been put to shame, he was also in danger of being stoned. He said: ‘O Musalmans, I have no power to marry a wife and no patience to restrain myself. What am I to do? There is no monasticism in Islam.” Among the number of causes producing internal tranquility and comfort in wealthy people, the fact may be reckoned that they take every night a sweetheart in their arms and may every day contemplate a youth whose brightness excels that of the shining morn and causes the feet of walking cypresses to conceal themselves abashed.

Plunging the fist into the blood of beloved persons,
Dying the finger-tips with the colour of the jujube-fruit.

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poem by Sa di
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The Tower Beyond Tragedy

I
You'd never have thought the Queen was Helen's sister- Troy's
burning-flower from Sparta, the beautiful sea-flower
Cut in clear stone, crowned with the fragrant golden mane, she
the ageless, the uncontaminable-
This Clytemnestra was her sister, low-statured, fierce-lipped, not
dark nor blonde, greenish-gray-eyed,
Sinewed with strength, you saw, under the purple folds of the
queen-cloak, but craftier than queenly,
Standing between the gilded wooden porch-pillars, great steps of
stone above the steep street,
Awaiting the King.
Most of his men were quartered on the town;
he, clanking bronze, with fifty
And certain captives, came to the stair. The Queen's men were
a hundred in the street and a hundred
Lining the ramp, eighty on the great flags of the porch; she
raising her white arms the spear-butts
Thundered on the stone, and the shields clashed; eight shining
clarions
Let fly from the wide window over the entrance the wildbirds of
their metal throats, air-cleaving
Over the King come home. He raised his thick burnt-colored
beard and smiled; then Clytemnestra,
Gathering the robe, setting the golden-sandaled feet carefully,
stone by stone, descended
One half the stair. But one of the captives marred the comeliness
of that embrace with a cry
Gull-shrill, blade-sharp, cutting between the purple cloak and
the bronze plates, then Clytemnestra:
Who was it? The King answered: A piece of our goods out of
the snatch of Asia, a daughter of the king,
So treat her kindly and she may come into her wits again. Eh,
you keep state here my queen.
You've not been the poorer for me.- In heart, in the widowed
chamber, dear, she pale replied, though the slaves
Toiled, the spearmen were faithful. What's her name, the slavegirl's?
AGAMEMNON Come up the stair. They tell me my kinsman's
Lodged himself on you.
CLYTEMNESTRA Your cousin Aegisthus? He was out of refuge,
flits between here and Tiryns.
Dear: the girl's name?
AGAMEMNON Cassandra. We've a hundred or so other
captives; besides two hundred
Rotted in the hulls, they tell odd stories about you and your
guest: eh? no matter: the ships
Ooze pitch and the August road smokes dirt, I smell like an
old shepherd's goatskin, you'll have bath-water?
CLYTEMNESTRA
They're making it hot. Come, my lord. My hands will pour it.

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poem by Robinson Jeffers
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Three Women

My love is young, so young;
Young is her cheek, and her throat,
And life is a song to be sung
With love the word for each note.

Young is her cheek and her throat;
Her eyes have the smile o' May.
And love is the word for each note
In the song of my life to-day.

Her eyes have the smile o' May;
Her heart is the heart of a dove,
And the song of my life to-day
Is love, beautiful love.

Her heart is the heart of a dove,
Ah, would it but fly to my breast
Where love, beautiful love,
Has made it a downy nest.

Ah, would she but fly to my breast,
My love who is young, so young;
I have made her a downy nest
And life is a song to be sung.

1
I.
A dull little station, a man with the eye
Of a dreamer; a bevy of girls moving by;
A swift moving train and a hot Summer sun,
The curtain goes up, and our play is begun.
The drama of passion, of sorrow, of strife,
Which always is billed for the theatre Life.
It runs on forever, from year unto year,
With scarcely a change when new actors appear.
It is old as the world is-far older in truth,
For the world is a crude little planet of youth.
And back in the eras before it was formed,
The passions of hearts through the Universe stormed.

Maurice Somerville passed the cluster of girls
Who twisted their ribbons and fluttered their curls
In vain to attract him; his mind it was plain
Was wholly intent on the incoming train.
That great one eyed monster puffed out its black breath,
Shrieked, snorted and hissed, like a thing bent on death,

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poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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Her Desire for 40G

Now back when I was 28,
I met and loved a 38 –
DD!

Hmm…I never really saw her eyes…
Perhaps I never needed to –
‘Twas all about her size.

Come on, be honest,
You really show surprise?

Oh yes, the storyline:

One sunny day she said to me,
‘I need to make you happy, see,
By undergoing surgery
So you can have my guarantee
That when you see my 40G,
You’ll hit new heights of ecstasy! ’

‘Phew! ’ I drew a breath.

‘Well thank you dear, you’re very kind,
But won’t you risk me going blind?
If one of those should catch my eye,
I’m sure to wave them both goodbye;

And after all, you’re rather tall –
With extra weight you’ll likely fall;
Forwards, I should clarify.
Hmm…we’re back again to my poor eye.’

‘It’s all about your precious sight! ’
She screamed at me with all her might,
‘I only want to make you proud
And me to stand out in the crowd.’

‘You do already stand right out!
Any more, then there’s no doubt
You might as well just poke me blind,
So in the streets I’ll tag behind,

Unaware of all the fuss,
Especially when on the bus –
Assuming you could squeeze on board…
Hmm…at least I know I’ll be ignored…

Okay – go get them done.’

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poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Second Book

TIMES followed one another. Came a morn
I stood upon the brink of twenty years,
And looked before and after, as I stood
Woman and artist,–either incomplete,
Both credulous of completion. There I held
The whole creation in my little cup,
And smiled with thirsty lips before I drank,
'Good health to you and me, sweet neighbour mine
And all these peoples.'
I was glad, that day;
The June was in me, with its multitudes
Of nightingales all singing in the dark,
And rosebuds reddening where the calyx split.
I felt so young, so strong, so sure of God!
So glad, I could not choose be very wise!
And, old at twenty, was inclined to pull
My childhood backward in a childish jest
To see the face of't once more, and farewell!
In which fantastic mood I bounded forth
At early morning,–would not wait so long
As even to snatch my bonnet by the strings,
But, brushing a green trail across the lawn
With my gown in the dew, took will and way
Among the acacias of the shrubberies,
To fly my fancies in the open air
And keep my birthday, till my aunt awoke
To stop good dreams. Meanwhile I murmured on,
As honeyed bees keep humming to themselves;
'The worthiest poets have remained uncrowned
Till death has bleached their foreheads to the bone,
And so with me it must be, unless I prove
Unworthy of the grand adversity,–
And certainly I would not fail so much.
What, therefore, if I crown myself to-day
In sport, not pride, to learn the feel of it,
Before my brows be numb as Dante's own
To all the tender pricking of such leaves?
Such leaves? what leaves?'
I pulled the branches down,
To choose from.
'Not the bay! I choose no bay;
The fates deny us if we are overbold:
Nor myrtle–which means chiefly love; and love
Is something awful which one dare not touch
So early o' mornings. This verbena strains
The point of passionate fragrance; and hard by,
This guelder rose, at far too slight a beck
Of the wind, will toss about her flower-apples.
Ah–there's my choice,–that ivy on the wall,
That headlong ivy! not a leaf will grow

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poem by Elizabeth Barrett Browning from Aurora Leigh (1856)
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You Started This Fire

I lay with you and it's,
Under-cover.
With a ring-aling that dings.
And penetrates to get to things.

Aaahhh, aaahhh, aaahhh.

I lay with you and it's,
Under-cover.
With a ring-aling that dings.
And penetrates to get to things.
And penetrates to get to things.
Repeat.
And penetrates to get to things.
Repeat.
And penetrates to get to things.

Aaahhh, aaahhh, aaahhh.

Now who started this fire?
With a-ring and a-ding-ding-ding.
And a,
Big dingalingaling.
In this,
Sticky heat!
And, breathing deep.

Now who is accused for this fire?
That makes my breathing deep.
And...
Makes me clinch both fist and teeth.

Now who is accused for this fire?
That makes my breathing deep.
And...
Makes me clinch both fist and teeth.

You lay bare with naked clues!
You must of have started this fire.
You looking as if you know what to do too.
You must of have started this fire,
To build up my desire.

And why do I suspect that,
You have done this thing and...
That you want to bring me,
To a place....
To hear me scream

You lay bare with naked clues!

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poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Eighth Book

ONE eve it happened when I sate alone,
Alone upon the terrace of my tower,
A book upon my knees, to counterfeit
The reading that I never read at all,
While Marian, in the garden down below,
Knelt by the fountain (I could just hear thrill
The drowsy silence of the exhausted day)
And peeled a new fig from that purple heap
In the grass beside her,–turning out the red
To feed her eager child, who sucked at it
With vehement lips across a gap of air
As he stood opposite, face and curls a-flame
With that last sun-ray, crying, 'give me, give,'
And stamping with imperious baby-feet,
(We're all born princes)–something startled me,–
The laugh of sad and innocent souls, that breaks
Abruptly, as if frightened at itself;
'Twas Marian laughed. I saw her glance above
In sudden shame that I should hear her laugh,
And straightway dropped my eyes upon my book,
And knew, the first time, 'twas Boccaccio's tales,
The Falcon's,–of the lover who for love
Destroyed the best that loved him. Some of us
Do it still, and then we sit and laugh no more.
Laugh you, sweet Marian! you've the right to laugh,
Since God himself is for you, and a child!
For me there's somewhat less,–and so, I sigh.

The heavens were making room to hold the night,
The sevenfold heavens unfolding all their gates
To let the stars out slowly (prophesied
In close-approaching advent, not discerned),
While still the cue-owls from the cypresses
Of the Poggio called and counted every pulse
Of the skyey palpitation. Gradually
The purple and transparent shadows slow
Had filled up the whole valley to the brim,
And flooded all the city, which you saw
As some drowned city in some enchanted sea,
Cut off from nature,–drawing you who gaze,
With passionate desire, to leap and plunge,
And find a sea-king with a voice of waves,
And treacherous soft eyes, and slippery locks
You cannot kiss but you shall bring away
Their salt upon your lips. The duomo-bell
Strikes ten, as if it struck ten fathoms down,
So deep; and fifty churches answer it
The same, with fifty various instances.
Some gaslights tremble along squares and streets
The Pitti's palace-front is drawn in fire:

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poem by Elizabeth Barrett Browning from Aurora Leigh (1856)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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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

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poem by Mark R Slaughter
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A Strong Woman vs. A Woman Of Strength

A strong woman works out every day,
Pride in her appearance she portrays,
But a woman of strength kneels to pray,
Her soul in shape, God leading the way.

A strong woman claims she isn't afraid of anything,
Looking forward to challenges each day will bring,
Women of strength show courage in the midst of fear,
Declaring triumph through faith because God is near.

Strong women won't let anyone get the best of them,
So skilled in defenses even if they have to pretend,
Yet a woman of strength gives her best to everyone,
And even on a cloud filled day still bright as the sun.

A strong woman relies on the physical attributes making her tough,
In her search for power and money she will never have enough,
A woman of strength understands that it's not about material stuff,
Knowing that before becoming a diamond first she'll be in the rough.

A strong woman sometimes disguises her feelings shadowed by clouds,
Unhinged when challenged on her policy becoming boisterous and loud,
A woman of strength concerns herself not with judgment from others,
And will not let business interfere with commitments as a wife and mother.

A strong woman is easily impatient back and forth she will begin to pace,
Counting on her holier than thou attitude instead of depending on faith,
A woman of strength is assured trust in God will always carry her through,
And at the Creator's appointed time she'll receive all that is justly due.

A strong woman makes mistakes and avoids the same for tomorrow,
Refusing to take time looking back with reverence and Godly sorrow,
The woman of strength realizes life's mistakes no matter how slim,
While thanking God for the blessings as she capitalizes on them.

A strong woman walks head first with no doubt in her mind,
No matter what, she'll not make this mistake a second time,
But a woman of strength knows God will catch her when she falls,
So when a situation arises again, she's not afraid to answer the call.

A strong woman wears the look of confidence on her face,
Always doing whatever it takes to finish, seeking only first place,
The woman of strength competes with an emotional sense of grace,
Understanding it's more important to run a Holy Spirit filled race.

A strong woman has faith that for the journey she'll have enough,
No matter how uneven the terrain or roads being rocky and rough,
A woman of strength knows it's in the journey she will become strong,
And the love of God is forever with her, no matter how difficult or long.

[...] Read more

poem by Luke Easter
Added 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

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poem by Mark R Slaughter
Added by Poetry Lover
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To Love A Woman

(ian hunter)
To love a woman
Lost and lonely through the night
My baby doesnt hear me right
Cross my heart and hope to die
The words wont come although I try
Its there beneath me deep and strong
And when I speak it sounds so wrong
Oh cross my heart and hope to die
Ill never know the reason why
You and I were so in love
And if the sun wont shine
Ill be warm enough for the both of us
To love a woman
To love a woman
To love a woman
To love a woman
Sometimes when Im away from you
I love you more you know its true
Oh cross my heart and hope to die
This loneliness is good sometimes
And youll return smile over me
And I still cant say whats plain to see
But cross my heart and hope to die
Youll never know how hard I try
You and I we fell in love
And if the sun wont shine
Ill be warm enough for the both of us
To love a woman
To love a woman
To love a woman
To love a woman
To love a woman
To love a woman
To love a woman
To love a woman
Loving a woman like you aint hard to do
You know it happens all the time
To love a woman another woman
To love a woman aint never been hard
(cross my heart and hope to die)
To love a woman
To love a woman
To love a woman
To love a woman
To love a woman
To love a woman
To love a woman
So Ill go on through this night
Wishing the words to come out right

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song performed by Ian Hunter
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Woman In Red

Am I seeing what I think I see
Or are my eyes playing tricks on me
cause what I see dont make no sense
Looking so good standing over that vent
Earth venus in broad daylight
The goddess of love is in my sight
Gotta catch a hold of myself
cause if I dont Ill have nothing left
Imagine youre sitting at ring side
And Im standing on the inside
And approaching is miss matador
Im on the charge for
The woman in red
The woman in red
Like fine wine shes going straight to my head
The woman in red (background-the woman in red)
The woman in red (see the woman in red)
Ill settle for nothing less than her instead
M-m-miss please pardon me
Now listen to me I can hardly speak
I havent been this much confused
Since daddy caught me trying on his shoes
Now, Im too old to be acting like this
But theres something about her I just cant resist
My heart is beating like a big bass drum
And my mind is saying that girls the one
Imagine youre sitting at ring side
And Im standing on the inside
And approaching is miss matador
Im on the charge for
The woman in red (background-the woman in red)
The woman in red (see the woman in red, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa)
Like fine wine shes going straight to my head
The woman in red (the woman in red)
The woman in red (see the woman in red)
Ill settle for nothing less than her instead
(repeat 1 time)
(background)
Pretty little woman in red
Pretty little woman in red
Pretty little wo
Pretty little wo
Pretty little
Pretty little woman in red
(repeat 1 time)
The woman in red
See the woman in red, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa
The woman in red
See the woman in red
The woman in red (backgrounds-the woman in red)

[...] Read more

song performed by Stevie Wonder
Added by Lucian Velea
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Child Woman, Woman Child

Orbison/dees
Coo coo, thats you, wonder why I love you, you do voodoo, thunder clouds above you
Crazy, kooky, lazy spooky, oh what a clown, always around
And I have found youre a woman. child woman. woman child
Long legged woman when I see you walking you look good
Hey little woman when I hear you talking you sound good
Child woman, woman child youre driving me wild child woman woman child
Youre into my mind then youre out of my mind child woman
You wind and unwind my mind, time after time child woman ooh child woman, yeah child woman
Flying uptight, dont know where youre going, trying your kite when the wind is blowing
Funny lady, sunny, shady off to the fair, sun in your hair
Oh, youre aware youre a woman child woman, woman child
Strong minded woman when you start groovin you look fine
My kind of woman when you start movin you look fine
Child woman, woman child youre driving me wild child woman woman child
I dont see you there, I see you everywhere child woman
I dont even care -yes, I really do care child woman, ooh child woman,
Hey child woman child woman, woman child

song performed by Roy Orbison
Added by Lucian Velea
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No Woman No Cry

Original version 1975 by bob marley & the wailers
No woman no cry
No woman no cry
No woman no cry
No woman no cry
Cause I remember when we used to sit
In a government yard in trenchtown
Observing the hypocrites
Mingle with the good people we meet
Good friends we have, now
Good friends we have lost
Along the way
In this great future,
You cant forget your past
So dry your tears, I say
No woman no cry
No woman no cry
Oh little darling, dont shed no tears
No woman no cry
Cause I remember when we used to sit
In the government yard in trenchtown
When georgie would make the fire lights
I say, log would burnin through the nights
Then we would cook cornmeal porridge
Of which Ill share with you
My feet is my only carriage
So Ive got to push on thru,
And while Im gone
Everything s gonna be alright
Everything s gonna be alright
Everything s gonna be alright now
Everything s gonna be alright
Everything s gonna be alright now
Everything s gonna be alright
No woman no cry
No woman no cry
No woman no cry
No woman no cry
No woman no cry
Oh little darlin dont shed no tears
No woman no cry
Oh little darlin dont shed no tears
No woman no cry
Said I re, said I re, said I remember
No woman no cry
You and I and you and I and you and i
No woman no cry
Cause I remember when we used to sit there
No woman no cry
In a government yard

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song performed by Boney M.
Added by Lucian Velea
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