Iron Fist

I love Putin she often says

as beguiling smile spreads

like rays of rising sun

‘cross her oft troubled face. 

This day, now, we lie lazily on her bed

as news of Ukraine

fills breadth and depth of TV screen and she,

mischievously, tugs at me;

she sings then asks: What language that? 

Russian I reply (with friendly smile).  

And thunder cracks the twinkle from her eyes

and she screams: 

My God I hate, despise you,    hate hate hate!

You’re stuck inside my f*cking head.

I’m gonna kill myself, be dead dead dead!

(And snarl parts her lips and venom spits.) 

Oops, wrong answer (thinks I)

and cross arms to cushion blows aimed at chest. 

C’mon I say, we’re friends; but diatribe persists

and she flies at me with flailing fists

and I get up to leave, say:

I won’t listen to this anymore;

and ignore her jibes and walk away.

Elsewhere, a million miles away,

in Donetsk, Kramatorsk or some other city, town,

she sits forlorn, (another troubled soul)

fists in futile fury curled,

scorned by those who wish to separate

those once she viewed as welcome friends;

she wants an end to it, an end to it all,

but fears it will end   as in the past,

the days of old

where peace was wrapped constrained

in iron grip of fist of bitter cold.

I hate this, I hate hate hate this

(she thinks) and sinks into her misery.

Anna :o]

Claudia at  at dVerse  has us writing of conversation/dialogue in poetry and above is my take on it.

The little lady first featured was singing her rendition of Kalinka and she was annoyed I recognised the language.  She, not Russian herself, firmly believes she is, a member of the higher echelons no less, who enjoys the ear (and she –she would have you believe, the bed) of Putin.  Her dearest wish is that Putin will enter Kiev, triumphant, with the entire ‘Red Army’ close behind him singing Kalinka to their hearts content…

This world is full of a multitude of madness’s and the second little lady exists in the real madness that is Ukraine.  Listen to some of the unheard voices and wonder what mad political games the superpowers are playing…anywhere and everywhere in this world of ours...

PS I love the Red Army Choir, just love it; introduced to the magnificence of their wonderful voices at the city hall of  the city in which I lived as a spotty teenager – I have loved and listened every since.  Of the video – those idiots cavorting round the stage should be shot at dawn – how in this age we cheapen the beautiful…   

Also entered today (11.05.14) at the Poetry Pantry at Poets United - thanks to Mary for hosting.

Video:  Courtesy of YouTube