Feminine Rage

We share “Feminine Rage,” a poem that explores the profound depth and intensity of human experience. It is a poetic declaration that transcends categorization. This composition delves into the intricate threads of individual identity, challenging societal norms and celebrating the unyielding spirit that emerges in the face of oppression. The verses unravel as a tempest, embodying the primal symphony of Mother Nature and echoing the collective voices of countless women who have courageously navigated the storms of societal expectations.

Within the rich and intricate tapestry of life, a compelling force emerges—a powerful embodiment of resilience and rebellion. This force intricately weaves its way through the complex threads of individual identity, surpassing the confines of color, race, and even the very essence of nature. Lost in these musings my pen synchronized with my brain and what resulted was “Feminine Rage”  my declaration that defies categorization, embracing the full spectrum of human experience. The verses unravel like a tempest, capturing the fury of Mother Nature herself, relentless in her pursuit to dismantle the feeble structures that confine and oppress, which materializes as a primal symphony, resonating with the collective voices of innumerable women who have bravely navigated the tempests of oppression and societal expectations. Each thread of this symphony tells a story of strength, defiance, and the unyielding spirit that surges forth, breaking free from the constraints of a world that often seeks to confine and limit. So my friends I share with you Feminine Rage.

Feminine Rage 

I am black
I am white
I am mother nature when the waves fill the cracks of the walls of your weak house as it comes crashing down just like you
I am the fire that you put her on as you watch with your horrified faces
I consume up your lives, hungry as I ever was
I am the blood curdling screams you let out that carry the rhythm of your darkest fears come true
I am those beautiful droplets of blood trickling down ur palm as you hold on to that broken piece of glass cutting into your flesh
after you smashed the bathroom mirror because you couldn’t stand what you saw in it,
And yet you look so beautiful with angry tears adorning your pretty face
I am the beauty of the vengeance of Medusa after she was robbed of her innocence,
I am the rage running through your mother’s veins when they told her to kill you while you were in her womb, when they found out that she had created a lifegiver,
And her mother’s when they turned a blind eye to her humanness in anticipation of her being a true nurturer.
I am the scissors you cut your hair off with that you think of as your past because you hate what you have become,
I am art
I am destruction
I am what every woman and girl holds so close to their identity
for I am feminine rage