I am with bone and skin, but I am woman.
I am vulnerable to the other gender,
they don’t seem to notice that I am indeed human to.

Being born a woman is both a curse and a blessing.
we embrace it all,
we are both the sun and the moon, we are women.
I am a woman, yes but I am so much more than that

I don’t know
What ails the angels
Maybe they are tired
Of trying to guard me
And save me
From my demons
I picture them exhausted,
On a street curb
Smoking a Marlboro
Menthol
Begging for rest.
Maybe that’s what ails
The angels.

                             -L. Frost

Rise,
Rise up my Sister
You are a daughter
Of the Sun!
Rise once more,
Like you did before
A new dawn and day
Has come.

Minimum wage at a sewing factory
the air thick with the smell of cheap dye
and the determination of making ends meet

raising three kids alone in a foreign country
where no one speaks your mother tongue

breaking down the wall of cultural restraints
so your daughter could pursue her dreams
giving her the freedom to soar
even if it meant caging yours

our favourite meals even after a long, hard day
the embracing aroma of spices as we enter the house
insisting you are not hungry
so we could have the last bite

falling asleep to the lullaby of your voice
reading through the crinkled pages of Urdu stories

your endless, fearless support as we grew up
if only we could see ourselves through your eyes

for what you have endured, words can’t express
your resilience, your courage, your love

-to the strongest woman I know

As you may admire her from the peak of a mountain
Know that she commends the gardens she made below
For His will in every season
She will make beauty out of the weeds-of-wrath
As will in the likeness of clouds
A strong woman is prized in both seasons
Don’t fall for folly when you only catch her touching the stars

Her voice, sweeter than buttercream
- Salty words won’t pucker her song,
Honey bees follow her adoringly -
The kindest person ever to come along

Her legs, thick with gorgeous muscle
- A tornado couldn't knock her down,
Tree trunks turn green with jealousy -
She's the strongest person in town

Her eyes, alight with warm welcome
- a blackout wouldn't dim her glow,
Lesser stars shrink away in envy -
She's the friendliest person to know

She’ll protect anyone who needs it,
Forgive the most egregious slight
Faced with anger, she won't feed it
Full of grace, she’s everything right

Sadly, he won’t go the way of Earl
But who wouldn’t cheer his self-demise
He who siphoned power, stifled song
And stole the laughter from her eyes

Somehow, she’s still tornado strong
The bees know she’ll sing once more
Her trust might need a little time but
When she’s ready, glowing, she’ll soar

NCL August 2019

She's somewhere in the sunlight strong
her tears are in the falling rain
she calls me in the wind's soft song
and with the flowers she comes again.

The loneliness and misery
are silenced by a melody.
She's somewhere and I hear her sing
her words in timeless memory.

Stay the course, light a star,
change the world where ere you are.

Somewhere the night wind carries her
the silver moon beam lights her way
Onterees is her messenger
and every sun and moon her stay

Dark voices from the shadows call
but listen and her voice recall
Moriah, Moriah

Stay the course, light a star,
change the world where ere you are

I have it in spades
But it comes in waves,
In the climb, I know I'm worth it,
On the precipice, it feels so clear,
In the curl, I'm tested,
It's in the break that I get lost,
And just as it pulls me in,
I ride upon the backs of the strong women who surround me,
Holding me accountable,
Exposing the humanity that grounds me,
Resolve is a funny thing,
I have it in spades,
But it comes in waves.

Young women so bold
Not afraid to try again
Not afraid to say no to the men who try and take advantage of them,

Young women so smart
Finding new and proper ways of doing things
Finding peace within,

Young women so strong
Like a stealthy leopard hunting its pry in the jungle,
Like a majestic mare willing to fight for her foal,

Young women never give up,
Never throughout your dreams just because some guy told you to,
Never do what you think isn't right.

are you collecting the old counts of how
they slaughtered your son and his power-hungry heart,
twenty three knives to the torso,
the killing blow delivered by a beloved friend?
or are those the scrolls that you wish
dust would settle over forever, relics and reliefs of
everything you see behind your closed eyelids.
a politician’s mother
must be all the more clever; her son will not
be going into battle to die with honor
but rather with deceit. give her-- you-- a laurel wreath,
the irony of the goddess nike standing
golden over the tomb of your son: emperor,
caesar. mother of summer, of boiling july,
are you not the sun? are you not the constellations
freckling burnt pale skin? are you not
the fiercest and brightest of warriors, quietly,
without warning?