#catcalling poems on Hello Poetry

Samara Jul 2017

When I was young I promised myself that when I grew up and got hot,
If I ever got cat-called, I would react.
I would scream,
Kick the bumper of their car,
Throw my overpriced drink in their face,
Be angry be ******,
Take no **** from anyone who dared to look at me.

I grew up.
I'm not hot,
I'm okay enough to look at,
Okay enough to earn the attention of two middle aged children in a ****** silver four door car.
I promised myself
I would react.

I froze.
Took another faulty step
Felt my ankle struggle under the weight
The ends of my pants brushing my toes
Blood rising to my face.
Not a blush.
I was not flattered.
An inferno.
My mind in flames.
The heat trapped by my mouth
Glued shut by $20 lipstick from a brand owned by someone who hates what I am.

Didn't I promise myself?
I didn't react.
Hardly moved a muscle.
Too slow to even furrow my manicured eyebrows in rage.

I know now
That the world will always be cruel.
And the world will always think I'm
Hot
Beautiful
****
Cute
Attractive

So what good is having my own pretty face
When everyone else thinks that it's theirs?
Nobody will ever own me
Not even myself.

#feminist #sexism #sexist #catcalling #women #harassing #harassment #selflove #empowerment #society

Maggie Huston Oct 2016

Walking

it was a late night
we were walking alongside a road
quiet was the air with the exception of the rare
car passing
but then out of the darkness
it came

the car was all windows down
rap music busting through worn speakers
yells and whistles penetrating our ears
yet we walked on

but the monster crept back
hungry for our power
preying on our innocence
maiming us with their words

and just like that it was finished with us
it slunk off into darkness
never to be seen again
Coward.

Hey I'm 14 years old and my name is Maggie, hope you enjoy!

#girl #dark #walking #monster #car #sexism #lyric #catcalling

jaswin billie sangha Sep 2016

bushwick

it's a college party
even though i never finished and the rest of y'all are spending money you don't have on the ingredients necessary for homemade sangria so you can drink the crippling anxiety of not knowing how to pay off your student loans away

there's a man living in a tent in the backyard, and i'm pretty sure we put one too many pieces of scrap wood in that very-hard-to-maintain bonfire. that has to be a metaphor for the state of most of our lives. stop throwing things i'm unprepared for in what already feels like a situation that is going to **** me.

is this a literal housewarming

i'm drunk, and sitting on the deck, counting the christmas lights. i smell ****, and there are white people dancing and singing to blink 182 inside.

i paint my name on a drywall with a brush and canisters i find on my way to the living room, where i'm asked to referee a game of beer pong. i lose interest quickly.

i scroll through my phone, sober enough not to text you but drunk enough to desperately want to. someone sits down next to me because i've apparently become that person at the party.

i talk about rent with a guy who really wants to connect on the fact that we're both middle eastern, even though i'm not middle eastern. he smells like PBR and completely believes what he's saying. he says he's proud of me for following my dreams of coming to new york and that he likes my "crazy hair" and that he wants to **** me.

i raise my eyebrows, more in disgust than interest, but he then takes his perceived cue to shamelessly ask me if i have a ******. i don't, and i leave before he brainstorms any alternatives i am just as aversive to.

ironically, i find a ****** dispenser attached to a tree on the walk to the subway. considering the amount of catcalling i experienced on the way to the station, my level of discomfort is amplified by the fact that the neighbourhood literally, physically implies, ******* is going to happen in the streets. it's 2am, and i just want to go home. and i'm sitting on the J train, recalling everyone who's told me it's shady and unreliable and makes you feel like you're going to die.

a few months later, i am nicknamed J train.

#brooklyn #bushwick #catcalling

Hannah Davis Jan 2016

*******

You're not a necessity,
You’re an accessory.
Stop trying to own me, talk at, and stand next to me.

Stop playing the role of the leader- you’re less than me.
I am the boss here you have nothing to offer- see?

I am stronger, smarter, brighter, bolder-
and all you have to say is what?
“If I can’t have her I’ll hurt her.”

You think because you’re man and I’m women I’m yours,
but when it comes to offers I haven’t see anything worse.

You call at me,
Stare at me,
Swear at me,
Slimy and gross like a leach.
You taunt me and smirk at me as if I’m in your reach.

So I’ve talked to you once,
We’ve made eye contact- your point?
You’re a cog in a machine line,
a small piece,
an ordinary joint.

You’re unoriginal with your words,
even less with your actions.
I’m beautiful and talented,
So when it comes to you there’s no attraction.

You have nothing to offer me,
let me be-stop accosting me.
You’re taking up my time and it’s costing me.
Because unlike you I’m not worthless,
I’ve got ambition and drive.
I’ve got brains-not just an ***.
You’re not the reason I’m alive.

You’re nothing,
You’re worthless.
And if I wanted you, you’d know.
I’ve been trying to tell you repeatedly just where you can go.

Your offers?
Not catchy,
not tempting,
I don’t want anything less.

So sad to know when it comes to relationships-
this is as close as you ever get.

You’re ****.
You’re trash.
You confuse me when you talk.
Since when does a women sleep with someone when they gawk, or when they stalk?

You’re a coward,
You’re a loser,
Your creation was a glitch.
And though yes, I am rejecting you,
No, boy-you are the little *****.

An expression of my rage towards the amount of times I have been objectified and harassed by men over the last month both on the street and in my workplace.

#anger #pain #feminism #confidence #rage #feminist #objectification #harassment #catcalling #itsmybody

jack of spades Dec 2015

Catcalling James Howlett

Sugar and spice and everything nice,
Wolverine claws and a venomous bite,
Armed to the teeth for a ***** fight:
This is what teenage girls are made of.

Maybe I fall in love too easily,
But I’m just sixteen.
And I’m just sixteen but
When you cat call me and I pretend not to hear you,
You call me catty as if it’s surprising.
When you wolf whistle at me and I ignore you,
You call me names that aren’t PG.
I’m just sixteen but I’ve got news for you:
I’m a she-wolf, far from domesticated so
Whistling will do nothing for you.
I don’t answer the call of any man, because
I’m a lioness, and every time you catcall me
You forget who does the hunting.
You need reminding, to be put in your place.
You’re a predator but I’m not your prey-
No, you’re a predator but I’m much, much
Much higher up on the food chain.
Whistle and call all night long,
I’ll chew you up and spit you out
Like the kind of bubble gum that isn’t worth a trash can.
I’d call you a pig, but pigs usually have a
Higher IQ than you do.
My bones are made of titanium, of Adamantium, and
My rage came from the cosmos, and I control hurricanes with the water in my lungs.

I am catty,
And I am a *****,
But you are a nobody,
Food for the vultures and
A piece of furniture to sharpen my claws on.
You may be a knife, but my heart is a diamond.
I am a diamond, and you are made of fossil fuels.
We are both the product of years of pressure,
But I took my disasters and made myself beautiful.
You let yourself become ugly, nowhere to go
Except standing on corners late at night,
Pollution spilling from your mouth and your eyes.

Leave me alone.
That’s not me being ‘hard-to-get,’ no,
That’s my wolf howl and the growl of my inner lioness.
Leave me alone,
Or else.

read it while wearing dark lipstick that stains microphones

#angry #feminism #positivity #marvel #catcalling #comicbook #standupforyourself #wolverine #wolfwhistling

Vanessa Aug 2015

I Bite

I-AM-NOT-A-DOG.
Today,
I cut loose from your leash of degrading comments.
My ears have learned to ignore your whistles
and the only thing I am going to fetch
is my dignity.

We all have cracks.
People’s words creep into our most foreign parts
And bother us like gnats in our food.
However,
At a young age my mom welded me by hand.
Sealed off every corner so
Your undignified vernacular wouldn’t disturb my peace.

Your mother must’ve had deleterious effects on you.
She told you that love can only be found through intertwining genitals.
I have iron fists and your forcefulness will not supersede my strength to protect what I own.

Let me tell you sir,
Obeying men is an archaic practice
And I wasn’t born yesterday.
I endure life with fortitude even with the threat of your loaded fist 2 inches from my face.

Your catcalls sting like the hearts of mother’s who have lost their daughter’s to the streets.
I hold my mace like a loaded gun walking in the petrifying night.

Apparently big butts lie, they give you the impression that you can squeeze, but back off the anatomy.
Remember that all women embody beauty and grace, not for you, but for themselves.

#women #rights #catcalling

Katie W Jan 2015

Word on the street

The words you produce are poison
The type that spreads fear
It's an echo of oppression
That mutters close to ear
You think it's just for fun
Just a quick win
For you it's a passing comment
But for me it's embedded in my skin
'They're just words' you say,
You're a freak, man, ****,
'Remember what you're worth'
That's what it really like,
You don't think before you say
Whenever you speak these slurs
You perpetuate the hate
Masking me in caricatures
So next time you begin to say,
Those little words to me
Please check your ego,
And ******* let me be.

#hate #oppression #catcalling #bulling

Aesthete Flower Jan 2015

Compliments

My name is baby and you lean out of your car and spit at my feet it lands in a puddle in front of me and I am thirteen and in a suburban neighborhood on the way home from school and I gag and run with my backpack banging like the echo of your words against my back like you are chasing me all the way home.

My name is sweetie and I am fifteen in the city with my friends for the first time and we get a little lost and you follow us for a full block you name my friends honey and darling and why the **** won’t you talk to me!?

My name is nice *** and it’s two in the afternoon and I still feel my heart slam against my ribs because I am under a hundred and fifty pounds and I have weak lungs and weaker fists and while you saunter down the steps, swinging the beer bottle in your fist, my father who is walking behind me shouts, “she’s seventeen, you *******” and maybe I’m near my family but I don’t feel safe until we’re home again.

My name is ******* and my friend is laughing and we just graduated high school and we feel like we are on the brink of something beautiful and terrifying and she is in heels and about to throw up and you name her drunk enough and I have to physically drag you off and when we go home she cries for four hours because a night that should have been just teenage fun almost resulted in the end of her trust of humans.

My name is look at those **** and we are on a college campus and the boy I am with holds onto my waist just a little tighter while you drive up next to me. You name him **** and throw a bottle at his forehead. I can’t stop shaking until long after it’s over. He says “it happens,” and I say, “It shouldn’t.”

My name is **** girl and we are walking down the street. There are ten of you and two of us and you snap a picture when you think we’re not looking. You tell us to either come inside or you’ll **** us on the street. You all laugh like this is funny. This is a compliment. This is just something boys do to get ladies.

My name is little lady, my name is fine miss, my name is ******* and **** your friends, my name is look me in the face, my name is stop frowning, my name is smile, my name is why did you even glance at him you were asking for it, my name is this is a compliment, so I looked it up according to Oxford that’s “a polite expression of praise or admiration”  I think you've got the definitions mixed up.

My name is  pretty thing,  my name takes nice words and make them into bullet wounds.

My name is  nice body  and no girl I know has dated a man who catcalled her.

My name is  great rack  and it turns out that if you shout things at a stranger, they sound like knives more than flowers.

My name is  women like you never know their place  and every single “nice” thing you say to a woman is something you’d never utter to another man because you know that it’s derogatory.

My name is  princess  and  a reason to get put in prison  and if another man spoke to your mother, sister, or girlfriend like that, you’d **** him.

My name is  ****  and every time I hear someone raising their voice I am thirteen again and I don’t know who you are and I’m running home with a weight on my shoulders and your words like a slap to my spine and your laughter hanging in the air.

I am scared and alone and suddenly so small, and compliments are supposed to make me feel good not afraid for my life, compliments are a way of saying  “I care and I appreciate you and I thought you should know it,”  and if you really meant it as a compliment, you’d care about how I would take it - but you don’t mean it like that, you mean it to show off.

You mean it to make us object, you mean it to shove our names into your back pocket so you can tell your friends  “I saw the hottest little thing  yesterday”  and they can be groan about how we just walked away because you don’t see us go home with keys in our fists and all the lights on and we keep 911 dialed just in case and we triple-check our locks and we don’t fall asleep at all because your compliment knocked us over and took who we are

If we are all saying  “it doesn’t sound like a compliment, it sounds like a threat,”  If you really wanted to make us feel good - wouldn't you stop doing it?

#truth #boys #girls #rant #today #modern #compliments #catcalling

Lauren Christina Pearson Aug 2014

To Walk As A Woman

Some things exist behind curtains of experience.

Those whose tongues have
tasted the holy fire know the touch
of something divine.

Those who have laid eyes on
their sleeping bodies, and walked
away to places unknown, can grasp
the idea of an inbetween.

Those who have groped in the darkness
for something to believe in again, who
have longingly looked over the cliff edge,
know that true despair does exist.

As for me,

I know that true fear can
come in the form of footsteps
behind you on the empty street.

The person at the bar who insists on
hollow compliments and free drinks.

Friends who scoff at your anger for
men who yell out their passenger side
windows about the treasures beneath
your clothes.

True fear can come in the middle
of the afternoon, as you face
off against the four floor staircase
to your apartment, when your steps
are echoed by the man in 2b who has
a wife, son, and a taste for resistance.

Don't tell me I'm overreacting,
when the single most terrifying thing
I can do is walk alone under the street lamps.

Don't tell me I'm too uptight just
because I've learned that flattery
can come with a horrifying price tag.

Don't tell me I'm wrong just
because you don't understand.

Look me in the eye when you have
waited until a security guard can walk you
to your car.  When you have held your
breath in a shared elevator.  When you have
lowered your eyes to the men who yell
obscenities at you, because standing up
for yourself could prove deadly.

Look me in the eye when you have held back
the curtain of experience, and walked in the shoes
of someone who lives every moment knowing
this could be the day someone decides to steal
from me what is only mine to give.

Then look me in the eye when you tell
someone of your wound, and they reprimand
you for daring to walk this world as a woman.

Not actually in love with this. But I've been putting off writing for far too long, and everyone always says that if you are in a rut, the best thing to do is write until you feel inspired again. So here we go.

#fear #women #****** #**** #sexism #harassment #catcalling

Clara Romero Aug 2014

Ladylike?

I hate you when you catcall her
I feel the anger rise, tightly coiled in my stomach
Clench my fists and feel my blood pound,
Because I know what you do to her,
Reducing her to her body, just for your pleasure.
To you she is only a body, just another opportunity to prove
your manliness, your superiority.
Just another girl to humiliate.
I know this and my rage roars, a dragon, untamable
ready to tear into you the second you try it with me.

But then as I walk pass, the voices are silent.
No calls, no whistles,
I don't exist.
The dragon within me becomes confused,
am I really so ugly, so unwanted, so plain,
that the **** on the streets, the ******* who harass girls as they walk,
won't even look at me?
What's wrong with me?
The dragon fades and a new type of hate arises.
I hate myself, my stupid hair, my ******* up jaw, my plain appearance.
I should feel lucky for the blessed silence, the peaceful walk,
but instead I feel a nauseating sense of shame and hate for myself,
As I tuck my head down like a good girl and hurry home,
Trying not to cry.

Society has turned being harassed as a goal to reach for.
Keep telling us "it's a compliment"
And sooner or later we'll start to believe it.
But that doesn't make it true.

So I sit sharping my nails, not sure whose throat to rip out,
Yours? Or mine?
Because you've told me,
It's not ladylike for me to hate anyone,
Except myself.

#ladylike #feminsim #catcalling

— The End —