Poems of Woman

By Mary Anneeta Mann

Women of this NEW MILLENNIUM
Do your research well,
And meet me at Nirvanas gate
With your very own story to tell

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Sep 16, 2010
• ISBN: 9781449099947

Mary Anneeta Mann

Mary Anneeta Mann was born in Rockhampton in Queensland, Australia Her formal education ended after two years of High School. She obtained her B.A. degree with honors in English from Sydney University, the M.A. in Theatre from the University of California at Berkeley and the Ph.D. in Communications and Drama from the University of Southern California. Her book HUBRIS: The Construction of Tragedy, based upon Aristotle's Poetics and his Science of Being Altogether, explores the world view of tragic dramatists in plays from the Greeks to the present day. Her three plays for youth and family are Maria and the Comet on the life of Maria Mitchell, The Round Table which moves between the knights and ladies ofKing Arthurand theUnited Nations at the dawnof the 21st.century, (published as TWO FAMILY PLAYS)and ThuGun and Natasha, a drama with rap, moving beyond guns and violence, written forinner cityyouthin the United States of America. Science and Spirituality, co-authored with Rev. Leland Stewart of Unity-and-Diversity and other compilers, clarifies the common origin of both Science and Spirituality and, through the understanding of spirit is one, paths are many,shows how people of all faiths and belierfs can celebrate their common humanity. There Are No Enemies begins with the Philosophy of Lifeand includesarticles on its practical ethics and poemsas well as "The Right of the Womb - post 911". Mary has a son Attica Andrew and a grandaughter Destiny.

Book preview

P O E M S O F

W O M A N

Mary Anneeta Mann

ARTWORK

Judy Ann Kraatz

PHOTOGRAPHY

Attica Andrew Mann

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AuthorHouse™

1663 Liberty Drive

Bloomington, IN 47403

www.authorhouse.com

Phone: [phone]

© 2010 Mary Anneeta Mann. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

First published by AuthorHouse 5/29/2012

ISBN: 978-1-4490-9994-7 (e)

ISBN: 978-1-4490-9993-0 (sc)

Library of Congress Control Number: 201092 7299

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Note

Poetry is an expression of a spiritual experience that sometimes wrests

language out of its complacency and sometimes uses it mundanely.

All poets as all people, are inevitably associated with their birth date and

place, belief system and culture surrounding them.

Women, I believe now, have always understood the meaning of equality

by experiencing inequality. What they could do about it depended upon

the circumstances of their life, the genes they inherited and the light of

Providence, the organic reach of the Life Force of the Universe in its bid

for survival.

The suffragettes surged forward in their intensity for the right to vote

and won it. Women obtained the right to vote in Australia in 1902just

one year after the country’s birth and in 1920 in the United States of

America.

In the 1960s the so-called Women’s Movement became another surge as

it merged with the Civil Rights Movement in the United States but it fell

short of achieving the Equal Rights Amendment in 1978 and it appeared

to lose ground as the century came to a close.

However there is another surge at the beginning of the third millennium

and this one is bringing women equality globally, more slowly but very

surely.

The poems collected here have been penned over a lifetime with no

thought of publication-until the new millennium

Some are worthless but it is hard to tell which ones. However if there is

any single poem that may encourage a woman anywhere to keep striving

to do what she was born to do then this publication has been worth-

while.

The unwritten poem is the one that reveals the truth of this new millen-

nium, the light of Providence bearing Global Gender Equality and with

it the PEACE that passes all understanding.

www.maryanneetamann.com

CONTENTS

ON SOLITUDE

"Peace

The Rank Outsider

While I am Woman

My sun and I are one

FOR AND ABOUT POETS

A Young Love Dead

Poet

Beauty

God

The Lesson

Two Loves

ON LOVING

Today

Til l the Final Word

ON PEOPLE PARTING

Go

Not You

DEATH AND BEYOND

Image

ON UNIVERSITIES

The Thinker

An Early Lecture

Statistics-In Memorium

On the Primary Mental Abilities Test

Fisher Library

ON YEARNING

Close Sesame

This Darkness

ON THE EDGE OF SANITY

REFLECTIONS ON OUR AGE

Joker’s for Veiled Injustice

A Day at the Office

The Injustice

ON BEING

Sailing from Suva

Beach Party

THE THIRD MILLENNIUM

The. Unborn Children

Tread Softly Justices

Bronze Star

Iraq-in Another Dimension

The Rights of Mother Earth

Requiem to Love-July 2006

Gaza Mirror, Oh God, the children!

The Weeping Women

The Right of the Womb 911

ON SOLITUDE

Where put the feet of solitude-

Warm breath in a snowdrift,

Cool eye in a tropic haze-

The murmur of voices

Is always there

Always the babble of bubbling things

With the stillness underneath.

Where put the feet of solitude-

Shell on an endless sand,

Cactus in the desert-

The breath of the wind

Is always there,

Always the throb of opening strings,

With a symphony unread.

Where put the feet of solitude

And the voice that is lost in song?

The ear is tuned to silent wings

While the cockle sings,

But the voice is strange,

Is strange,

Even,

Even to me.

There is no way

But through the flood

That sweeps down the valley,

They will not aid

Violated moralities,

They will not shelter,

Contemporary trees

But the passion will go through the flood.

Through the flood of the rising waters

Where waters never rose before,

None but the passion will go through it,

None but the passion will dare

The high tide, the low tide,

The Creator’s juxtaposed care.

And for none but the poet, the panting

Under leafless trees

When pebbles rise again in the valley

And her warm songs, naked, freeze.

"Peace

Come in. I have waited long:

I have thatched the roof

myself,

I have built the walls

with my own hands;

and hung the door,

and fastened the latch;

Come in, you promised me

Before I learned to speak

That you would come

If I gave you shelter,

that you would help me

in what I seek;

Come in,

the summer leaves are blown,

my love,

and my love too, has flown,

come in,

Oh, Peace, you never told me

that we should be alone!

And not a whetstone

anywhere

in all the world?

Not one soul

to feel with me

When I wake in the night

to the sounds of unborn music

that the pen will never write

without?

Bring you no dowry,

nothing?

Shall I find it then

in the silence-

the blood

to move the pen…

Or shall there be

just the silence-

So be it,

So be it.

Once more an aching silence,

Another kind of mute.

But remember Peace

the heart beat,

feel it,

finite thing

The Rank Outsider

The railings spur

With the jockey’s rail

And keep pace with the loser’s tail

With the whip of a sigh

On the mane

Of a white washed railing pail:

The sting of silk

And the caress of dust:

The blood on the bit,