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The things which make my blood rise
surge and boil, bringing a witches cauldron’s 
of hell fire, to the for…are not the natural things like sunrise
or the beauty of a pasture green, or golden
No, for me it is all, the daily injustices that men promote
as women implore…

Beauty soothes my heart and calms my ragged breath.
But, a man who thinks he’s better than another
bringing his ‘truth’ to bear, with the force of power,
stepping on the crowns of those, seen as lesser,
now that…causes blood to pink the whites of my eyes
as a woman, I explore..

In a universal culture where men hold sway
with swaggering strides and violent threats,
the smaller, finer, delicate things like diatoms*
in water are crushed, destroyed, forgotten, in the roil*
of war…

Man who must focus worship on themselves
denying the wet, warm, womb of the Mother,
men who mouth protection, as the reason for their gore,
men who would have more than their fair share 
and tout* dominion* as their just deserts*…
men such as these..these men, encourage war..
and return to us our dead children
wrapped in the flags of nationalism..
for with the self granted pride of man
they bring war..

Bring us back to the days before,
before we saw ourselves as separate
to the interlocked and laced days, 
when each form was blessed.
Let my heart ease, let my blood calm, 
take the taint of pride from me and mankind
and let each and everyone see the value
of peace through unity..

*untoward / causing misfortune *diatoms/ one-celled alga *roil /make somebody angry
*tout / praise somebody or something *dominion / ruling control
*deserts / something somebody deserves

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