DISCLAIMER: This webpage is not being to make money so no need to sue me for having published these poems…if anyone has a link to these poems anywhere else on the web, please email me.

 

*Hey Baby*

By Debra Bruce

 

Some men can strip

a woman down, while

they put a building up.

A whistle, a look –

 

One hoot from him as he dangles

from a moving crane, and off

go my clothes, and I am all ass,

ass, flaring with every step.

My body gets so hot so fast

it burns the air everywhere

with shapes of me but only he

can see them.

 

Chances are there’s nothing hard

on him but his hat. Still,

what I feel makes my nipples burn

and not with lust, or love.

 

***

 

 

*‘I’m Eighteen’*

Anonymous

 

I’m eighteen,

he’s nine.

At night

I carry him to the ivory bed

He’s more son than man.

Damn the lousy matchmaker

who found me a husband

small as a nail.

In the middle of the night

he pisses on me.

 

 

***

 

*In confidence*

By Alison Fell

 

- An orgasm is like an anchovy

she says,

little, long, and very salty.

 

- No it’s a caterpillar

undulating, fat and sweet.

 

- A sunburst, says the third

an exploding watermelon

I had one at Christmas

 

- Your body betrays, she says,

one way or another.

Rash and wriggling, it comes

and comes, while your mind

says lie low, or go.

 

- Or else it snarls and shrinks

to the corner of its cage

while your mind whips it on and out

out in the open

and so free

 

- As for me,

says the last

if I have them brazen

with birthday candles,

with water faucets

or the handles of Toby Jugs,

I don’t care who knows it.

But how few I have –

keep that in the dark.

 

***

 

*Lesbian*

By Caroline Claxton

 

YOUR IMAGE:

I am a lesbian

I open cans with my teeth

I have a domineering mother,

Except when I have a domineering father,

Sister, brother,  school-friend, neighbour, gay man who came to read the gas meter

When I was six.

I creep out

At the dead of night

To steal men’s underpants

Which I wear – under my tweed skirt.

I live at Greenham

Except when I live next door to you.

I go to drop-in centres

For the left-wing-commie-cigar-smoking-butch-bulldykes-against-the-bomb

Paid for by the GLC.

I have fourteen fingers

We grow extra ones

You know.

I leap out from under ‘man’hole covers

To grab ‘straight’ women

And I’m secretly plotting against Russia

To ‘dis-arm’ Ronald Reagan.

 

HOW IT IS:

You’ve never quite got it right

About me

So let me tell you about myself.

 

I am complicated but

Surprisingly average.

I do everything

And as for jobs

I have a good job, a bad job, no job

I’m fired from jobs, I create jobs

I’ve worked just about any kind of job you can think of

Except Prime Minister

Unfortunately.

 

I am a thousand colours

And come from a thousand places

I come in a thousand places

And out in a thousand places.

 

I am behind you in the bus queue,

The cinema, the supermarket.

I live everywhere

Except Buckingham Palace

As far as I know.

 

I am older than spoken word

Traces of my bones lie in the stones

Beneath your feet.

I am made of rock

Harder than diamond

It cuts through your conventions

And your sticky, sticky lies.

 

I am more women than you would believe

And more woman than you would understand.

 

What am I?

 

***

 

*My Black Triangle*

By Grace Nichols

 

My black triangle

sandwiched between the geography of my thighs

 

Is a Bermuda

of tiny atoms

forever seizing

and releasing

the world

 

My black triangle

is so rich

that it flows over

on to the dry crotch

of the world

 

My black triangle

is black light

sitting on the threshold

of the world

 

Overlooking deep-pink

probabilities

 

and though

it spares a thought

for history

my black triangle

has spread beyond his story

beyond the dry fears of parch-ri-archy

 

spreading and growing

trusting and flowering

my black triangle

carries the seal of approval

of my deepest self

 

***

 

*The Real Ones*

By Jo Crayola

 

First of all, real ones don’t have tattoos,

Which count me out for a start.

They generally shave their armpits

At least the ones you see advertising themselves do;

And they don’t sport bruises like these ones,

In these places.

In fact, you could be forgiven for thinking

They didn’t even have places like these.

 

What they do have is laps.

Yes, a lap.

For a cat to sit on, or a baby

Or a husband to bury his despairing head

(And that’s another thing I forgot to mention.

They also tend to have husbands.)

For themselves they never despair

Or if they do, we won’t remember it.

Or else we mention it only later

When we grow up and go to therapy.

They are of course warm, soft, enduring,

With their receiving bosoms,

Their string hands,

Their sharp tongues

And their worn spirit.

They are excellent for taking on holiday

As they keep up everyone’s morale.

Even if it’s raining.

Or the campsite’s over-booked.

 

They don’t wear nightdresses like this one.

They don’t wipe snotty little faces

With a corner of their t-shirt.

Or wear monkey boots, refuse to comb their hair

Or allow a

Very small boy

To wash their back in the bath.

 

No! They are entirely different. Look at them,

Chatting together in the doctors’ waiting room,

Prowling the shops, pushing buggies, yanking toddlers.

Some of them are younger than me, blonder, skinnier,

Yet still seem to manage it.

They are the real ones,

Watching at hospital bedsides, soothing foreheads, plastering

knees, buttoning coats and remembering wellies;

serving up tissues, fruit and aspirins

at every impromptu picnic.

 

One day I suppose I’ll join them,

When I’ve had the tattoo erased by laser,

Given up scoffing the sweets he brings home from parties,

Grown a lap, and a husband and a hairless armpit;

Stop lying on my bed listening to loud music

When I should be making the tea.

 

I don’t know how exactly it happens,

But I’m waiting for it

(and meanwhile watching Neighbours, to get in practice)

 

I only hope that when it does,

He will have the grace

To be a teeny-weeny bit,

Ever-so-slightly

 

disappointed.

 

***

 

 

*Vagina Sonnet*

By Joan Larkin

 

Is ‘vagina’ suitable for use

In a sonnet? I don’t suppose so.

A famous poet told me, ‘Vagina’s ugly’

Meaning of course, the sound of it. In poems.

Meanwhile he inserts his penis frequently

Into his verse, calling it seriously, ‘My

Penis’. It is short, I know, and dignified.

I mean of course the sound of it. In poems.

This whole thing is unfortunate, but petty,

Like my hangup concerning English Dept memos

Headed ‘Mr/Mrs/Miss’ – only a fishbone

In the throat of revolution –

A waste of brains – to be concerned about

This minor issue of my cunt’s good name.

 

***

 

 

*Why Dorothy Wordsworth is not as Famous as her Brother*

By Lynn Peters

'I wandered lonely as a . . .
They're in the top drawer, William,
Under your socks -
I wandered lonely as a -
No not that drawer, the top one.
I wandered by myself -
Well wear the ones you can find,
No, don't get overwrought my dear,
I'm coming.'

'I was out one day wandering
Lonely as a cloud when -
Soft boiled egg, yes my dear,
As usual, three minutes -
As a cloud when all of a sudden -
Look, I said I'll cook it,
Just hold on will you -
All right. I'm coming.

'One day I was out for a walk
When I saw this flock -
It can't be too hard, it had three minutes.
Well put some butter in it.
-- This host of golden daffodils
As I was out for a stroll one -

'Oh you fancy a stroll, do you.
Yes, all right William. I'm coming.
It's on the peg. Under your hat.
I'll bring my pad, shall I, in case
You want to jot something down?’

 

***

 

>>> Back to fave poems <<<

Hosted by www.Geocities.ws

1