Women Like Me 

Women like me,

Make men realize 

That their dreams don’t belong 

Only in their eyes 

That their shoulders are broad enough

For the weight of the world 

And the reduction of all their principle 

Lies in just their word 

That the sky is theirs 

And all this earth 

We make men keenly aware 

Of every inch of their self worth 

We are not statues, but pillars 

We are not decoration

We are not conquest, but glory 

We require dedication 

And we pay you back in blood 

In all of our love 

Women like me are made from your rib

But we hold your spine up. 
And if you can’t appreciate a woman

Who could wither your universe to bits 

If you insist on looking at greatness 

And lingering on the span of its tits 

Then I have already moved past you 

It’s not worth my time, you won’t see 

That I want you on your knees, and 

I’ll nurture you on mine, simultaneously

if you really deserved

A woman like me 


Silent acquiescence? I think not, darling…. ❤️


Rape- Is This Never Going To Stop?

A nun gets raped inside a convent.

A 72 year old nun, gets brutally gangraped, inside a convent.

I wonder how all the people- the dickheads and the self righteous idiots and the politicians who say that rape is something women bring upon themselves- I wonder how they’re going to justify this one.

Was she dressed too provocatively? Was it her carelessness? Did she get too drunk or too wasted and decide to walk home half naked? Did she lead the men on and then refuse? Was she a tease who deserved it, who was asking for it?

A nun.

A 72 year old nun.

Inside a fucking convent.

I don’t buy the religion argument. This is not a communal attack. She wasn’t punished for being too Christian. She was, sadly enough, a woman- that is her crime. That is the only thing anyone can hold the poor woman accountable for. Being a woman. A woman who was victimized, brutalized by those animals.

The arguments that are going to follow are going to be the same things everyone said the last time, and the time before that. They condemn the attack. Women’s rights groups will clamor for a while and quickly be pacified and silenced with promises. Someone’s going to blame religious activists, someone’s going to blame porn, yak yak yak, same things over and over again.

But here’s the thing. A nun got raped inside a convent. A house of God, where she spent years of her life doing nothing but serve. And it’ll happen again, to some school girl. Some woman walking home. Someone, someone, someone.

And no one will change one goddamn fucking thing.




Are you waiting on the beach
For the ships to come home?

They might not reach
It’s a storm lashing the stones

Can you not hear the fury?
It’s a hurricane, a gale

Battering the cliffs of worry
See the driftwood trails

On the beach,
From the winds,
And their tears, wayward blown

Flowing down your pale face,
Heated, muted
As your own?

Wait for twilight,
When the ships will be near

It will be alright,
And the horizon will clear

Watch the lighthouse
Know the men will find their way

This storm too shall break,
Come away from the beach,

Come, my child
Come away…


I recently learned some wise words from one of the kindest ladies I know. I believe they read something like- ‘When you are green, you will continue to grow, but when you stop growing, you can only decay’. I have to confess, that left quite an impact on me, and I was thinking about it all day.

When a conversation with another friend brought up a similar discussion, the synchronicity of it all compelled me to be green today, and plant some seeds of thought down a different path.

 Anna was my failed attempt at free verse. Till date, I have only written a poem without a rhyming scheme once. I hoped to repeat that, but I’ve become a little OCD about rhyming. Ah well, at least this one wasn’t a staccato cat-mat-bat.

So! This was me trying to grow today. Who knows, tomorrow I might try to get over my fear of mismatched socks…(Brrrr!!!)  After all, as another very witty and talented girl once said, ‘there is an ocean for perception, and I’ve tasted but a drop’.

Hang on, I think that was me… 😉 😉

Love and light,

~Cookie ❤