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.

Having you,
having me
there is a place
where
we should be
- wishfully
but, time planned
sharping edges,
leaving you
leaving me
- breathlessly

S.G.

She’s crying, how dare she cry.
I hate it when she does that. Hate,Hate,HATE, but her eyes only show sorrow.
How am I suppose to compete with that?
“STOP!” I yell, but it doesn’t work.
She sobs, uncontrollably like a water fall, her eyes an endless pool some how overflowing.
How dare she cry at a time like this.
I’m supose to be scolding her, sharping her like a dagger,
And then she cry’s.
Her silent tears begging me for forgiveness,
No, No, NO!
I can’t give in, not now not ever.
All I yell is met by  innocent  eyes,
She doesn’t understand,
She whimpers” I’m sorry”
I go to the door” actions speak louder than words”.
The door slams shut.
I can hear her crying, but I can’t comfort her,
I don’t care if she hates me.
She needs to to stronger,
She needs to  survive

A wise guru once said:
"A land with no culture that is relying on finances will fall."

Deeds are deeper to analyze.
Psychotic painter draws two brothers fighting.
He dabs with brush lunacy on the palette.
Signing a virus onto media to frighten us, gain our fortune.

And his flames irradiate from looking boxes.
Hypnotizing, he scourges our perception of Russia.
He foreshadows his evil plan west from across the Atlantic ocean.
Can he operate our responses?

The painter watches from the sky as he sits on a mountain throne.
His Empire of lies he founded in slavery and ******.
He drips blood from his nose and beard.
Silencing his victims, he draws their cries.

He places an eagle on his shoulder with a crooked hand.
Predator's eyes lined up above his black disguise.
Sharping claws to hook into prey.
His cheeky smile hid beneath the falling day.

''Justice'', he says. ''Justice will be directed by my will.''

Iraq, Iran, Afghanistan, Vietnam, Cuba, Puerto Rico, Bosnia, Serbia, Haiti, Kuwait, Nicaragua, Libya, Korea, Panama, and Japan left buried beneath the dust of his unleashed hell.
A grieving continuation. Throughout the eradication of old Indians, unfortunate Africans, and Mexicans. Nobody heard then, and nobody prayed. Eyes and prayers are now in Ukraine.

Ukrainians bombed peaceful Russian people in Donbas.
Repeatedly harassing and retaliation came crashing.
In a great mess unclean, rubbing his hands in peace,
America's afraid to intervene.
Awaiting others to fight is in his scheme.
Listen to the Ukrainian president lying to the world,
his soldiers died on Snake Island.
A corrupt government generates hate on the backs of the Russian people.
The Russian bear is awakened, taking care of the invaders of his den. And the Ukrainian president hides behind the living shields of brave civilian men.

He smokes a pipe with a hat hiding his face.
NATO kept provoking, aiming at a new order.
Owning most media that spans Europe- America possess this place.
Russians never spoke against him, while he does and uses NATO to hide. Showing desperation to pay his debts towards Europe,
he made a bid to his mind.

"Russian soldiers have orders not to respond to provocations and protect civilians. They warn the people of Ukraine where they will strike to prevent the casualties. Do not listen to the Ukrainian president. He will do anything to stay in power."

Irreverent smiles hid beneath the falling day.
Sharping claws to hook into prey.
Predator eyes lurking above a black disguise.
War is a pacifier for the unwise.

Over a dusty river circled under red skies.
Flowing in the wind, it sounds like a thousand cries.
War drips her blood from the nose and mouth.
Drinks azure oceans to usher infernal drought.

Rubbing hands in a great mess of unclean.
War is a smoking pipe numbing all being.
Grey curtains separate infants and a mother's milk.
It forces internal wounds to soak on a scarlet silk.

War flies like an owl in the dark.
It mirrors her eyes in a burning spark.
Machine scourge dispatched the meek.
Youth lies iced on a lambent specters' peak.