A Girl Child’s life

Tiny hands beat the air as she was pushed from her 

mother’s body and gasped for breath emitting a sharp 

healthy cry of hope, fear, pain and hunger. A crumpled,

dimpled face blinked at the light. So she started her long

interminable fight for safety, fair treatment, to thrive,

 to shine as that light in a world that has already 

passed judgement on her because of her gender.

She opened like a blossom of Spring whose petals

floated like pink sails to the earth leaving the precious

beginnings of fruitfulness. The frosts of misogyny 

burned the burgeoning fruit and cast it to the ground

where it lay unfulfilled, 

dying 

and 

promise 

lost.

The Grief of Afghanistan

It takes years for the slights and prejudice to forge

a people of deepening hatred for their oppressors,

and they bite back burning away the years that cast

cynical doubt on their cruel power hungry purposes.

—-

It was like blowing oxygen through molten pig iron,

lowering the carbon content to make it stronger and

enabling a revolutionary force to grow a steel shell

that would withstand, wait and harden their hearts. 

—–

They watched as kin were blasted in their homes,

and by purposely poisoning people’s perception,

turned the willingness and casting of a new country

into fractured fragments of flawed steel overheated. 

—-

Piled into trucks, prowling the streets they marched,

greeted by friends who have longed for power, still

they dance and wave their mighty machines of war,

and violate the women like vile cowards afraid of

—-

      their beauty and see the female as corrupting

and themselves unable to control their own urges,

denying the gift of God who gave love, equality 

and joy, instead of the male dominance that will

——

take and destroy the lives of girls to slake their

own lust, and coerce them into sexual slavery, and

in fear,  wrestle daily for justice while chained to an

evil avalanche of masculine perpetrated misogyny.

The Pain of Womanhood

The lash landed on her bared back,

rupturing the fragile scarred skin

and ruby red droplets scattered

across until they formed flowing

in

rivulets

————

Each stroke shook her heart as

it tried to cope with blood loss,

and pain, and shame, and anger,

at abusive laws set to break 

her

spirit. 

—————-

Collapsing into a bloodied heap,

her hair coated red, and the marks

of many crosses on her battered

back; she prays for the dignity of

dear

death.

——–

They will treat her unjustly inflicted

wounds. They will get her back on

her feet, and then they will punish

her again for nothing more than she

is

feminine.

————

He looks and hates the desire that

he feels. The lash has become his

lust, and anger, that a female has 

stood up to the misogynistic male

self-centred

values.

——-

What has brought women so low

that they feed on a male’s unsub-

stantiated flow and subverted praise?

The answer is that they have always been

macho 

moulded

———

So, womanhood is to nurture not the

male’s domination, for that is corrupting,

but themselves and as they grow and 

fight for their freedom to be, they’ll

free

humanity.

—————–

Each society is builded on blocks of virility,

each fails and blames their helpmeet and

violates her and so nations collapse and

their hope for the future, their very children

die

hungry.