girl with spinning hair, happy woman, feminism, feminist poetry
Jessica Bristow

I’m a lady
so I need to flit
the road between
delicate and
empowered
like a flower turned
to the solar however plucked
from the earth I’m
alleged to be stunning
however dependent
sturdy however needy.
I’m alleged to be the stem
severed from its roots
to be positioned
in a vase that brightens
your room and sure I’m
stunning however I’m extra
than only a ornament
dancing its petals
within the wind. I’m bones
and flesh and hair and eyes
that shine. I stand on
my very own two ft within the floor
the place I used to be discovered. The place I
was planted. I’m
not meant to be pulled
poked prodded positioned
the place you see match.
Girls are instructed
to be brave however cautious
realizing however needy, conscious
however all the time awaiting
somebody’s love, somebody’s hand
pulling us from the earth however
I don’t wish to be the sort of
lady who waits
Who depends
who wills her needs away
to be a reasonably bud in a windowsill.
I’m a lady
however I can’t flit between
delicate and empowered.
I can’t grace the vase
in your bedside desk.
You will see me roots and stem
shining in direction of my very own solar
grounded
impartial
sturdy.


You’re a wild and exquisite factor.
It’s essential to all the time bear in mind
the distinction between being cherished
and tamed.


I wish to know what you see
while you take a look at me.
Is it brown eyes, looking
your face? Is it a smile, pulling
you nearer? Is it legs and arms,
muscle groups and curves?
Do you’re feeling threatened
by the best way I stroll
with my head straight, gazed mounted
and unwavering?
Whenever you take a look at me,
do you see mascara on my eyelashes?
Blush on my cheeks? Trainers on my ft?
Whenever you take a look at me,
do you see fingers with silver rings,
manicured and delicate?
Do you see callouses from work,
a smudge of grime on my knee, scuffed
soles from the locations I’ve wandered?

As a result of while you take a look at me,
I would like you to see fierceness and charm.
I would like you to see palms, worn
from each labor and love.
I would like you to see legs, sturdy
from the paths I’ve walked
and the burdens I’ve carried.
I would like you to see a coronary heart
large and beating
and shining boldly via my smile.
Whenever you take a look at me,
I don’t need you to only see
woman, lady, feminine, fairly.
I don’t need you to only see
curves, muscle groups, quick, sturdy.
I don’t need you to only see
chest, again, lashes, legs.
I would like you to see the place I’ve come from
and who I’ve turn out to be,
the laughter from my lips
and the faraway look in my eyes
after I begin to bear in mind what I’ve misplaced.
I would like you to really feel the heat of my pores and skin,
contact my physique along with your fingertips.
I would like you to know I’m not only a lady,
a human, a physique. However a power,
an power, a soul.
I would like you to know
we’re so completely different,
so complicated,
so disconnected.

However I would like you to take a look at me
and see we’re the identical.


A robust lady is a feared lady.
I hope your knees shake
while you see me.


If a lady is a plant
then tear that cactus out of the sand.
I wish to be one thing stunning,
however sassy. One thing with roots.
I’m greater than only a fairly face
so perhaps one thing like a rose. Seductive
velvet petals. That earthy scent. However thorns
the place you’d least count on them.
Or perhaps a sunflower. One thing large. Daring. Yellow.
Thick stem not thick cranium. I may stand tall
anyplace I wander. I may inform these farmer boys
they’re incorrect. I’m fairly. I’m sturdy.
On second thought, I’ll be that rattling cactus.
Carry my weight and water with me. Maintain
what I’ve discovered inside. Maintain it below sturdy pores and skin.
I received’t fear about being fairly. I’ll present these spikes
like scars of the place I’ve been. And I’ll develop a flower.
If I wish to. Develop the place I’m least anticipated. Develop
the place the sand burns and bare soles are too scared to wander.
There, I’ll develop.


I’m a lady. I’m mushy. I maintain my coronary heart out in my palm and let others contact the nice and cozy floor. I pay attention with my eyes closed and let tales wash over my pores and skin like rain. I communicate my feelings to life, allow them to run wild like horses via an open area. I don’t worry or maintain again.

I’m mushy. I’ve discovered to like like I’m malleable as a result of love doesn’t keep nonetheless and stiff. I attempt to be mild and type, fill my coronary heart with the spirit of endurance. I belief as a result of I don’t understand how to not. I care as a result of to feign indifference makes my chest ache.

I have no idea tips on how to love with much less, tips on how to be chilly and distant, tips on how to maintain others at arm’s size. I’m a lady with an enormous coronary heart – I’m mushy and never afraid to like.

However I’m additionally sturdy.

My physique is fluid, dancing to the rhythm of the songs on the radio, buzzing within the mild of the solar. My laughter flirts with the wind; my voice will get misplaced within the clouds.

My coronary heart is highly effective, a deep beat quickening with each measured step, pumping sooner as I pursue all that I imagine in and take care of.
I like wildly, however not naively. I care passionately, however all the time purposely. I’m mushy, but in addition sturdy.


Candy woman, you’re greater than a lady.
You might be legs, voices, attitudes of those that got here earlier than you
and of the infants you’ll at some point bear.
You might be grandmother’s smile and aunty’s do-it-yourself dumpling soup.
You’re the pearls within the jewellery field and the health club footwear by the door.
You’re a thoughts that cussed and amusing that’s contagious,
your mom’s calloused palms and the shyness of your sister.
You’re the complexions and statures the sleek
the spherical the thin the lanky. You might be
each shade, a chunk of every lady you’ve ever identified
or spoken to or been impressed by or cherished. You carry
every of them with you. You might be all of them. You’re the voice
that speaks, the ear that listens. Males will name and cat-call
and whistle and wait. You’ll be able to open your thoughts or your legs
and particularly our personal doorways. If you wish to. You might be palms
that file papers, that drive automobiles, that ship infants,
that put meals on the desk. You might be sturdy and massive
and too sturdy and an excessive amount of and attractive and exquisite
and mild and wild. You might be like flowers, like fruit,
like medication, like goals. Seductive. Terrifying.
You might be strains of poetry, phrases not but spoken, histories
and tales and recipes written on crinkled paper.
You might be breasts, eyes, fingers, toes, mouths.
You might be greater than only a lady. You’re a world. TC mark