Poems about Feminism
#feminism
Poems about feminism, the advocacy of women's rights on the ground of the equality of the sexes. Poetry about feminism includes feminist poems, and also poems challenging the modern feminist movement. Also views on feminism in mass media, and the inequality that still exists between men and women around the world.
Casted_Runes
Mr Karswell
Mr Karswell
Poem Published
2nd Feb 2025 1:30am
2nd Feb 2025 1:30am
The Feminine Stain
When I was a kid
my dad said he could
tell always when
a book was penned
by female hand and mind,
in cases even where
a male pseudonym was used,
and so he’d have to put it down
and pick up something else instead,
a woman’s prose
being too flowery for him.
He was horrified when
I told him at 12
that my favourite author
was Agatha Christie,
but settled a little
when I was 15
and reading Patricia Highsmith,
because she was a lesbian
and therefore of masculine mind,
to his mind.
...
my dad said he could
tell always when
a book was penned
by female hand and mind,
in cases even where
a male pseudonym was used,
and so he’d have to put it down
and pick up something else instead,
a woman’s prose
being too flowery for him.
He was horrified when
I told him at 12
that my favourite author
was Agatha Christie,
but settled a little
when I was 15
and reading Patricia Highsmith,
because she was a lesbian
and therefore of masculine mind,
to his mind.
...
#art
#feminism
#hate #oppression
#hate #oppression
38 reads
1 Comment
SweetKittyCat5
Poem Published
30th Jan 2025 4:16pm
30th Jan 2025 4:16pm
The Beauty Of The Breasts
Ladies, I tried my best to show that breast smasher machine, and this was my first mammogram as a preventative measure to encourage and inspire any woman of age to get a mammogram and also, please continue to do your self-breast exams each month.
And it was a gift, I was able to be fitted in on a day I was traveling out of state. Allah is great to allow me to bring the wonderous of such a test to you, hopefully, you will be more attuned to schedule for your own.
If you have not gotten a colonoscopy please do so, Colorectal Cancer have no pre-symptoms until...
And it was a gift, I was able to be fitted in on a day I was traveling out of state. Allah is great to allow me to bring the wonderous of such a test to you, hopefully, you will be more attuned to schedule for your own.
If you have not gotten a colonoscopy please do so, Colorectal Cancer have no pre-symptoms until...
#CallToAction
#cancer
#feminism
#peace
#women
150 reads
goldenmyst
Poem Published
14th Jan 2025 8:38am
14th Jan 2025 8:38am
Queen of Darkness
Queen of Darkness
She is the angel
Guarding the gates of her Eden
Wielding a flaming sword
Wounded but never conquered
She is friend to the serpent
In whose lair she sleeps
And the spider whose webs
Are the art that decorate her eaves
She wears her lipstick feminism
While peering through glasses
With lens made of the crystal fury
Of Bloody Mary’s cocktail glass
She is the angel
Guarding the gates of her Eden
Wielding a flaming sword
Wounded but never conquered
She is friend to the serpent
In whose lair she sleeps
And the spider whose webs
Are the art that decorate her eaves
She wears her lipstick feminism
While peering through glasses
With lens made of the crystal fury
Of Bloody Mary’s cocktail glass
#angels
#feminism
#gothic
#nature
#women
84 reads
2 Comments
Casted_Runes
Mr Karswell
Mr Karswell
Poem Published
13th Jan 2025 3:15pm
13th Jan 2025 3:15pm
Like an Echo
"She should be like a town clock — keep time and observe regularity. She should not, however, like a town clock, speak so loudly that all the town may hear her.
She should be like a snail — prudent, and keep within her own house.
She should not be like a snail — carry all she has upon her back.
She should be like an echo — speak when spoken to.
But she should not be like an echo — determined always to have the last word." - "Three Wifely Virtues", The Australian Woman's Mirror, 24/02/1925
A snail slimes across a leaf,
Its hearth and...
She should be like a snail — prudent, and keep within her own house.
She should not be like a snail — carry all she has upon her back.
She should be like an echo — speak when spoken to.
But she should not be like an echo — determined always to have the last word." - "Three Wifely Virtues", The Australian Woman's Mirror, 24/02/1925
A snail slimes across a leaf,
Its hearth and...
#abuse
#feminism
#historical #marriage
#historical #marriage
99 reads
2 Comments
Anne-Ri999
Poem Published
10th Dec 2024 12:26pm
10th Dec 2024 12:26pm
To build a temple
born from nectar mouth
swelling swirling planes
where cosmic conversation
held space
beyond night mares
night neighed
in foal winds
minstrels sing
Yggdrasil
my face hidden
among folded lotus
where I bloomed
from your chest
as apples blossomed
I have always known existence
in hindsight of hibiscus light
when my white wild
winter robe silently
sweeps away
I bask in bark blood
once more life is given
copyrights © owned by Rianne 2024 ...
swelling swirling planes
where cosmic conversation
held space
beyond night mares
night neighed
in foal winds
minstrels sing
Yggdrasil
my face hidden
among folded lotus
where I bloomed
from your chest
as apples blossomed
I have always known existence
in hindsight of hibiscus light
when my white wild
winter robe silently
sweeps away
I bask in bark blood
once more life is given
copyrights © owned by Rianne 2024 ...
#feminism
81 reads
0 Comments
Casted_Runes
Mr Karswell
Mr Karswell
Poem Published
6th Nov 2024 4:07am
6th Nov 2024 4:07am
The Party on the Stairs
We had a party on the stairs,
the ghostly belles and I,
and in that space between the dawn
and when the cockerel cries
we talked of many things,
including how I’d one day wear
a death mask just like theirs,
of powder and patch
and one beauty mark
to anchor the face to the room.
How in this world a woman is a ghost
before even her limbs have stilled,
her heart stopped beating in its cage,
her corset loosed at last.
the ghostly belles and I,
and in that space between the dawn
and when the cockerel cries
we talked of many things,
including how I’d one day wear
a death mask just like theirs,
of powder and patch
and one beauty mark
to anchor the face to the room.
How in this world a woman is a ghost
before even her limbs have stilled,
her heart stopped beating in its cage,
her corset loosed at last.
#beauty
#feminism
#ghosts #historical
#ghosts #historical
103 reads
0 Comments
goldenmyst
Poem Published
4th Nov 2024 11:24pm
4th Nov 2024 11:24pm
When a Woman Hopes
When a Woman Hopes
Tresses dark as prairie loess
with glint of sun diamond
peeking through her smile
Of hope on dust bowl days
When the blues are her sky
But rays of love glow in her heart
On the eve of a horizon clouded
But filled with yonder traces
Of a future-light from her maw maw’s dream
On evenings that wrap around her shoulders
With grandma’s Afghan
Woven in the crisscross of wheat tassels
For the breadbasket of her heart
Tresses dark as prairie loess
with glint of sun diamond
peeking through her smile
Of hope on dust bowl days
When the blues are her sky
But rays of love glow in her heart
On the eve of a horizon clouded
But filled with yonder traces
Of a future-light from her maw maw’s dream
On evenings that wrap around her shoulders
With grandma’s Afghan
Woven in the crisscross of wheat tassels
For the breadbasket of her heart
#America
#dreams
#feminism
#hope
#women
88 reads
2 Comments
Casted_Runes
Mr Karswell
Mr Karswell
Poem Published
4th Oct 2024 11:26pm
4th Oct 2024 11:26pm
Horror Poet
one of my firsts was Sylvia Plath
just like sad college girls
the world over
but I knew what people meant
when they said
that her work was obsessed with death
preening, diseased, and cruel
and all I could say
was that I liked it that way
and liked that she went to places
uncouth for women poets of that time…
that if the masculine could be
masturbatory, grim, and raving at the swell
of past
so could the feminine…
and that she took the nursery rhyme
and moulded it to fit
the...
just like sad college girls
the world over
but I knew what people meant
when they said
that her work was obsessed with death
preening, diseased, and cruel
and all I could say
was that I liked it that way
and liked that she went to places
uncouth for women poets of that time…
that if the masculine could be
masturbatory, grim, and raving at the swell
of past
so could the feminine…
and that she took the nursery rhyme
and moulded it to fit
the...
#feminism
#historical
#MentalHealth #WritingPoetry
#MentalHealth #WritingPoetry
128 reads
3 Comments
Casted_Runes
Mr Karswell
Mr Karswell
Poem Published
26th Sep 2024 6:21pm
26th Sep 2024 6:21pm
LIVE FEMMES
it all just falls away,
the memories of girls.
the games they played,
the records they made,
the cootie-riven curls
and feminine landscapes melting.
until all that remains
are two splayed legs in neon tights
above a sign that reads LIVE FEMMES.
the feminine has always been
bought and sold in the marketplaces,
eternally reducing to
the old cliches of male lust.
pink games and purple prose...
products live once and then crumble,
the bloody teeth of time
forever at their heels.
the...
the memories of girls.
the games they played,
the records they made,
the cootie-riven curls
and feminine landscapes melting.
until all that remains
are two splayed legs in neon tights
above a sign that reads LIVE FEMMES.
the feminine has always been
bought and sold in the marketplaces,
eternally reducing to
the old cliches of male lust.
pink games and purple prose...
products live once and then crumble,
the bloody teeth of time
forever at their heels.
the...
#art
#feminism
#PopCulture #sex
#PopCulture #sex
92 reads
1 Comment
Casted_Runes
Mr Karswell
Mr Karswell
Poem Published
16th Aug 2024 4:07pm
16th Aug 2024 4:07pm
Some Stray Thoughts on Misogyny
Your Mother's Eden, see.
Her plants watered only by drink
divine, without adultery.
She doesn't lust, she doesn't ache.
She'll make the beds, and break
the eggs. And if she doesn't, death awaits.
But Eden always dies. No tree
or blade exists without mortality's
office. And yet we blame Eden, the dog.
And should a woman turn on us...
Eden doesn't just wither, it burns.
Why else were England's witches only burned
when wife's magic was used against husbands?
The codes of masculinity
were built on...
Her plants watered only by drink
divine, without adultery.
She doesn't lust, she doesn't ache.
She'll make the beds, and break
the eggs. And if she doesn't, death awaits.
But Eden always dies. No tree
or blade exists without mortality's
office. And yet we blame Eden, the dog.
And should a woman turn on us...
Eden doesn't just wither, it burns.
Why else were England's witches only burned
when wife's magic was used against husbands?
The codes of masculinity
were built on...
#feminism
#masculinity
155 reads
2 Comments
Nixprty
Poem Published
28th Jul 2024 1:57pm
28th Jul 2024 1:57pm
Two Truths at Once
Men feel pain too.’
What odd timing.
We’re all victims to this patriarchal society where we are expected to ignore the blood dripping down our cheeks and they are expected to lick it from our skin.
We’re all broken down and smashed into overflowing molds made by people who don’t even know our names.
Because Eve was made from Adam’s rib,
Eve will forever be forced to nurse the hole in his side.
Filling the growing cavern with her flesh,
While also nursing his children.
...
What odd timing.
We’re all victims to this patriarchal society where we are expected to ignore the blood dripping down our cheeks and they are expected to lick it from our skin.
We’re all broken down and smashed into overflowing molds made by people who don’t even know our names.
Because Eve was made from Adam’s rib,
Eve will forever be forced to nurse the hole in his side.
Filling the growing cavern with her flesh,
While also nursing his children.
...
#anger
#feminism
117 reads
0 Comments
SweetKittyCat5
Poem Published
3rd Jul 2024 2:24pm
3rd Jul 2024 2:24pm
Elevate To The Gifts Of My Mind Then We Can Talk
Within the firmament of my sacred mist
So many have tied to find that spark, of a wandering free soul, upon the chants of the wind, an ordained divine gift
Bestowed way before the beginning of time
Held up to the sky, unto the Most High, blessed unto Heaven’s chime
No creature of great or small
He who stumbles, must first learn to walk again, then must learn to stand tall
My truth lies in my heart, and offered of its reaping to the mind to decipher, as you come to understand
Not upon land ...
So many have tied to find that spark, of a wandering free soul, upon the chants of the wind, an ordained divine gift
Bestowed way before the beginning of time
Held up to the sky, unto the Most High, blessed unto Heaven’s chime
No creature of great or small
He who stumbles, must first learn to walk again, then must learn to stand tall
My truth lies in my heart, and offered of its reaping to the mind to decipher, as you come to understand
Not upon land ...
#feminism
#humankind
#LifeAsAWriter
#peace
#spiritual
287 reads
9 Comments
DU Poetry : Poems about Feminism
