Today and every day we celebrate HER/SHE.
In celebration of women/womyn/womxn everywhere, we would like to showcase various poems by three phenomenal poets...
Enjoy, Sacred Rebels!
I Want to Apologize to all the Women
by Rupi Kaur
i want to apologize to all the women
i have called pretty
before i’ve called them intelligent or brave.
i am sorry i made it sound as though
something as simple as what you’re born with
is the most you have to be proud of
when your spirit has crushed mountains
from now on i will say things like, you are resilient
or, you are extraordinary.
not because i don’t think you’re pretty.
but because you are so much more than that
Woman Poem
by Nikki Giovanni
you see, my whole life is tied up to unhappiness it’s father cooking breakfast and me getting fat as a hog or having no food at all and father proving his incompetence again i wish i knew how it would feel to be free
it’s having a job they won’t let you work or no work at all castrating me (yes it happens to women too)
it’s a sex object if you’re pretty and no love or love and no sex if you’re fat get back fat black woman be a mother grandmother strong thing but not woman gameswoman romantic woman love needer man seeker dick eater sweat getter fuck needing love seeking woman
it’s a hole in your shoe and buying lil’ sis a dress and her saying you shouldn’t when you know all too well—that you shouldn’t but smiles are only something we give to properly dressed social workers not each other only smiles of i know your game sister which isn’t really a smile
joy is finding a pregnant roach and squashing it not finding someone to hold let go get off get back don’t turn me on you black dog how dare you care about me you ain’t got no good sense cause i ain’t shit you must be lower than that to care
it’s a filthy house with yesterday’s watermelon and monday’s tears cause true ladies don’t know how to clean
it’s intellectual devastation of everybody to avoid emotional commitment “yeah honey i would’ve married him but he didn’t have no degree”
it’s knock-kneed mini-skirted wig wearing died blond mamma’s scar born dead my scorn your whore rough heeled broken nailed powdered face me
whose whole life is tied up to unhappiness cause it’s the only for real thing i know
A Woman Speaks
by Audre Lorde
Moon marked and touched by sun my magic is unwritten but when the sea turns back it will leave my shape behind. I seek no favor untouched by blood unrelenting as the curse of love permanent as my errors or my pride I do not mix love with pity nor hate with scorn and if you would know me look into the entrails of Uranus where the restless oceans pound.
I do not dwell within my birth nor my divinities who am ageless and half-grown and still seeking my sisters witches in Dahomey wear me inside their coiled cloths as our mother did mourning.
I have been woman for a long time beware my smile I am treacherous with old magic and the noon's new fury with all your wide futures promised I am woman and not white.
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