Published by HerHeartPoetry – Italian Sonnet: “A Matter of Heart” / Free Verse: “Luna’s Call” #amwriting #poetry 


Goodmorning! Hope you are all well! I’m sharing a couple of poetry pieces published on Instagram @herheartpoetry from  http://www.herheartpoetry.com. As many poetry magazines, they have various topics each month/submission period. 

This first poem was published months ago and the theme was on ‘love/relationships,’ and the second poem was published this past week on the theme, ‘Howl at the Moon.’ 

For anyone interested, this is another awesome place to have your poetry published. You do, however, need to create a square picture with some app on your phone/tablet that edits photos, from a photo of your poem on MS Office or in someway, creatively create an Instagram poem that is square 🙂 

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Credit: Amanda M. Eifert – First Published by HerHeartPoetry.com on Instagram @herheartpoetry

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Credit: Amanda M. Eifert – First Published by HerHeartPoetry.com on Instagram @HerHeartPoetry

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©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

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100 Word Wednesdays Flash Fiction: Poem – Lunes – “Pushing On” #amwriting #poetry #flashfiction 


Thanks to Bikurgurl for hosting 100 Word Wednesday Prompts.

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Credit: Stephanie of La Photographie

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Gazing into my pretty face, 

Seeing mere woman —

No different than any other.

——

But if you peered deeper

You’d find a —

Woman greater than ‘classified’ gender. 

——

I’m a person deserving equality;

Because I’m feminist

Doesn’t mean I’m against men.

—–

Required for me are but —

Same wages, salary —

For the same position worked. 

—–

Provide me access to healthcare, 

Birth control; doctors —

Of all specialities needed whenever

——

I’m a working woman, educated —

well; the Mom —

Driving her kids to hockey. 

——

Tidying the house and hoping, 

My ‘modern’ husband, 

Helps me because shared chores —

—–

Equal happier relationships –less fighting. 

Don’t talk trash, 

Hurt and abuse; I’m strong. 

—–

But your sexist comments hurt;

Our Grandmother’s mother’s, 

Began fighting for women’s rights. 

—–

Are they rights only in —

Writing? Yet I —

Push their battle on so —

——

One day my daughter doesn’t, 

Have to fight;

Ignored for being a female.

—–

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved.  

Poem: Shadorma – “Woman War Not Alone” #amwriting #poetry #women


http://www.fatiguestofabulous.com
—– 
Such times as,

The ones she lived through.

She conformed, 

Wanted More.

Saw how hurt perpetuates;

Never healing whole.

—-

Self-harm, self-

Hate common;  inside –

She is hurting, 

Inner pain.

Gossip and judgement used.

She never thought to —

—–

End the pain

Close hateful doors tight.

Lock malice, 

Outside her.

An unforgiving night, reminds —

Her, fight gently.

—–

Keep working; 
Her inner battle. 
It’s as old,

As the earth.

Woman who fight for, 

Equality.

—–

A dream, 

She thinks having both,

Pax, and rest.

She is wise,

For seeing tomorrow’s pain;

Unburdens those lame.

——-

Light in the,

Darkness, shines, provides —

Glimmer of,

Hope, assured —

Fighting, with her words and sword;

Hoping for happiness.

——

Good prevails.

Light’s glow permanent.

Good’s older.

She drinks wine;

Thinking of mornings, sunrise —

Reminds her she’s loved.

—–

Leaves on tree,

Dusting her path yet,

Leaves mark the —

Passing of,

Seasons; on each she shines light,

Earth keeps turning while —

—–

She worries,

Weeping in bad times,

She doesn’t

Forget what,

Was fought for at heavy cost,

She lives; others fought —

——

For her now.

Because in their time,

They had few —

Rights at all.

Doing wife’s duty despite,

Desire for freedom — rights.

——

She looks for,

Light in the tunnel,

At the end–

Of the war.

She fights not alone; she holds —

Strength in her faith, bold.

——

For her God,

Never forgets her, 

Woman so —

Precious; God–

Created Man and her, equals —

Partners; she’s not less.

——-

Complement,

She smiles because she —

Knows inner —

Completeness.

Remembers God’s son best knows,

Inequality.

——–

©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.

Poem: Etherees – ” Diamonds, Suits, and Equality.” 


http://www.walllpaperup.com

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I could keep on telling you of all the —

Possibilities, endless in row, 

Diamonds glittering, light within, 

Such falseness in clarity, 

Like you, extensively cheap —

You don’t comprehend, 

Lies kill love and —

Con-artists, 

Thrive; I 

See

—-

Through, 

Your lies, 

You’re glass with, 

Fractured cracks split, 

In all directions, 

Blaming me because you’re, 

A lost boy never grown up, 

Buying your way with jewels and, 

Expensive booze on your breath; putrid, 

The smell, of vanity, and self-deceit.

——-

Broken old man, in business suit glaring, 

Imagining you’ve an empire but you’ve,

Only got a shilling and its, 

Currency long past, not used, 

So pay for your glitter, 

Die for Diamond rings, 

You’ve only things, 

And no ounce,

Substance, 

Fake.

—-

Look

Down on, 

Condescend, 

From you high horse, 

Fall on marble, crack, 

You’re a paragon, 

Sayings of virtue spent, 

Lying with each word on your tongue, 

Never saying what you mean and —

Not receiving your just dessert, 

Razing a woman below your boot,

It’s not Madmen; she cares not for jewels.

—–

Rather, she wishes you’d respect her more, 

Pay her equal for the same type of job, 

Not peer down on her to use her, 

Not think she is stupid with —

Her four-year-degree not —

Good enough for you, 

She isn’t going, 

To be stuck, 

Keeping, 

Home.

—–

Jewels, 

Don’t phase, 

Her more than, 

A moment’s past–

She sells them all back, 

Letting you see she’ll toss, 

Your silly rock she’ll not be —

That girl; she fought for her place and, 

The dealings were rough; no respect for —

Her a diamond unformed a jewel still scorned.

——-

In modern world she’s disgusted with the —

Throw-back to Don Drapper; but even he told, 

His teen daughter “You’re beautiful –

The rest is up to you; TV —

Showing reality and, 

The issue at hand, 

Equality means, 

Woman, Man,  

Same. 

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©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved

Poem: ” Objectified”


 

http://www.pinterest.com
 
It comes to me in pieces. I wasn’t good enough for you. I was only one of many. I didn’t realize, I wasn’t important.

I didn’t have that special vibe, that made you feel alive. The attraction I felt, only my imagination acting out.

Your piercing look of blue seeing me, trying to devise a way to know me. At least you tried a bit. I miss it.

And I miss the arms of someone who loved me much. But something wasn’t right. It’s how some relationships go. I wasn’t aware how much he saw in me, until he was gone.

Some men don’t try at all. They think you are only a release of the pent up need to mate. The desire of a guy for a pretty woman is tireless and unforgiving. He’s sure you’ll answer his libido’s call.

Why did I never see. I was always a number. I was always an object of sexuality. When I was young and so pretty , my worth was my beauty. Somethings don’t change, only the younger women are hotter.

I think of a song: “But Beautiful is empty / Beautiful is free / Beautiful loves no one / Beautiful stripped me.” (Creed) 

Beautiful is empty. Those girls who giggle freely and don’t mind being objectified. But some of them are hiding a world of color and art beneath their facades. A library of knowledge and experiences.

I realize how much we base on looks, our society is based on youth. Those who are the shiny pretty people. But no one can measure up, after your twenties or even then.

You tell me all the hot girls you can get. You tell me how easy they are to find. You make me feel no different then those you have defined merely for sex. What do you want with me, I am not so vapid. 

I thought I saw something in you. A softening of a man’s heart. Maybe I thought, you could sympathize with my life and make more of an effort. But I’m merely cute. I am not beautiful.

I’m not the ‘void’ that made me small when collage boys looked at me. I have learned from my experiences and I have always been more then my face or body. 

You say we should wait and see. Let the way things go, make the decision. I don’t mind going that way. But I see now I’m a number, a prized pet begging for attention with all the other women. A number.

There is an entire women’s movement of equality and their begging their men and trying to teach their sons to see women differently. I don’t think we’re succeeding. 

Woman are valuable because we are a ‘person’equal to men in every way. We are valuable because we are as smart as men and at times, much wiser. 

We are not our looks or our ability to bear a certain amount of children. We are not all the same. Each woman is unique and valuable for being herself. Stop numbering us on your head board. 

Ladies, stop chasing the men who are only after your tail. Stop letting them win when they characterize you as that easy girl they slept with. Make it hard, so they see your worth. Make them work.

And if they can’t see how wonderful you are. Throw them to the curb. Teach them a lesson. Tell them to stop objectifying women. To stop only seeing bleach-blond hair, big breasts,  and a lady whose got back — as the epitome of womanhood.

All of this is special and may make you who you are. The right men will adore your body, and it’s unique proportions. But they’ll adore your mind and your soul equally. They’ll treat you — what a word — specially.

And your man will try his hardest, to ensure you see you are valuable to him. All of you, from your hair to your toes. From your thoughts to your soul. 

Don’t do the walk of shame again and be ashamed for expressing your sexuality. If it’s what you desire you should know, you better make him a number before he turns you into one.

You best believe me lady. You are falling for a con. And you’re pushing back the women’s movement when you give into his charm. When he hasn’t put the work into, seeing you for who you are.

Places I never Want to Visit


Prompt: Is there a place in the world you never want to visit? Where, and why not?

The first place(s) I can think of that I never want to visit are Syria, Iraq, Iran, and anywhere they make a woman where a hajab … I think that’s what it is called. The reasons being is I am a feminist and believe in equal rights for woman as men. Not that your going to get that every place else but I believe in not having to cover myself up in the boiling heat, that a women’s beauty is for everyone to enjoy not just her husbands, and that I should be able to be myself wherever I go. Changes in places such as this must be made by men who must learn to control their own behaviour and not blame woman for their disgusting displays of prejudice against women and what they wear and how they act.

I’m also not a huge fan a places with wet muggy heat. I’d go but not when it’s crazy hot and the humidity is through the roof. The thing is I have really pale skin and burn easy and have always been sensitive to the sun. I have been heat sick more times then I care to remember. Combine that with chronic fatigue and I would have to just lay in bed all day under the air conditioner and attempt to get up and not feel too sick every once in awhile.
So, there are certain hot muggy places I would never go at certain times of year. Dry heat is a different story I can handle that extremely well.