Creative | Posted by Augusta G on 01/7/2015

Womantra

If you can’t handle me,

If my girl-power, middle-finger, bra-burning bothers you

Then reevaluate

Because I am only gaining momentum

I am charging,

Ignited by the tide of my moon

Surrounded by my sisters.

I am a bitch

A whore

And damn proud of it.

You label me,

For fear of my labia -

Too crazy

Too young

Too wild

Too scared.

You try to turn down my volume,

Fix and fondle me.

But I don’t need to be handled,

I have two hands

And they work damn well between my thighs.

 

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Creative | Posted by Kinder L on 12/26/2014

Uncomfortable

In class my professor stated that being comfortable

is a key factor to a society evolving.

At the time, I took her word for it. But

that night as I tried to fall asleep, I couldn’t help but

think about what she had said.

The more and more I thought about it,

the more and more I started to disagree.

 

It is with being too comfortable that my problems began

and I was lead astray.

Astray from the life I wanted to live.

Astray from the person I wanted to be.

I got too comfortable with the idea that I wasn’t good enough.

I got too comfortable with thinking that it is alright to

dismiss your intelligence to appear more attractive

in the eye of society.

I got too …

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Creative | Posted by Georgia P on 08/29/2014

Progress

Shut up he barked

Sit down he wined

Raise your voice he howled

Raise your cup to me he giggled

Make pure and tender love to me he snapped

Pick me up in your arms and tell me how to change he snaked

Shut up he whispered, into my ear on this cold, cold night

Pull out the chairs when they sit down he commanded

Read my mind he yearned

When my mother comes cover your bruises and show me that smile he snickered

When my father comes cover your chest and cross your legs he murmured

Know me like no one has ever known me, care for me like no one has before we wished

to each other

Shut up, he pounded into me, his sweaty hands slurping my …

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Creative | Posted by Emily Z on 02/21/2014

Woman

Ridges of her spine like fish

emerging from the water:

she stands, condensation dotting

the mirror. Swift shock,

change snapped from the fingers.

Past tense, present: glass,

arrows in knees, never: transparency

in spite of itself, choked

back, unnecessary. I wish, I wish.

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Creative, Feminism | Posted by Riya S on 11/8/2013

A Feminist Wave of Fury

I’m not walking ‘before’ Anybody.
I’m not here to parade my body,
Or prance and flit about.

Cause under all the prettiness,
There beats an Amazon heart.

To wear what We want.
To do what We dream.
To be who We are.

I’m watching you with Feminist eyes ,
Waiting for a slip up.
Blood’s been lost for Black and White.
But for battle? Not a drop.

To love whom We want,
But only When We please.
We want to be free.

It’s one thing to be proud of being women but I believe that equality can only be achieved if we treat everyone according to their individual merits. I think that being denied opportunities or being treated as less because of What and not Who you are is a …

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Creative | Posted by Jordan96 on 07/12/2013

Innocence Lost

Life never passed more slowly than it did when I cried behind the football stands. Like a movie, the crowds cheered while I bowed my head in defeat, the music roared while my smile was muted. Small towns are bubbles to be popped at the break of innocence. “Life is good if you believe in goodness.”

But when a short, acne scarred boy approached me with venom in his eyes — there was nothing good about that day. When he told me rape was a woman’s fault — there was nothing good about that day. When he told me women should know better and protect themselves 24/7, all hours of the day, with guns in their hands — there was nothing good about that day.

Daddy’s girl had never cried …

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Creative | Posted by Charlotte P on 06/21/2013

Curtains

It could not be said that the moment was unusual. There was a room and within it there was a table. The weather outside was unimportant, as the temperature within the house was tolerable aside from a chilling air of contentment. Courtesy disguised relevant tasks as temporarily trivial; the will of her late husband could be settled later. Voices spoke in urgent laziness.

“She likes the floral.”

“I do think the floral is nice, yes. I like the floral.”

“The floral clutters the room a bit.”

“She does like the floral though.”

There were three women in a room. One was distinctly older, while the other two were nearly half the age of the first. You could see that there were three, yet your eyes gravitated toward the woman in …

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Creative | Posted by Eden Halo on 04/26/2013

Midas and Medusa

Our suffering was human long before you
Tried to “humanise” it,
Give us the kiss of life,
I am not your wife, I am not your sister
I am not your fucking daughter, sorry to break
All this water
On the embers of you
Deigning, for once, to give a damn
What your friends do to us
By imagining we belong
To you — I will demonstrate
How little you know of possession
As I run
My keys along your car
Til your mouth unlocks, drops open
And I dive down your throat, walk around
In you, the cage
Of your ribs more spacious than
My own, two sizes too small,
Zero, counting down to take-off, space
For my heart all taken
With the frenzied tango
Of me watching you …

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