I pray
Every night before going to bed.
Before and after
Every meal.
No man
Has seen my face
Since the day I turned 13
Except my husband.
My daughters
Are good
I teach them well
But take no praise
Upon myself.
The Holy Book
I know by heart
Recite it in my sleep.
Cut my flesh
To show my pledge
Devotion eternal
I said.
But....
Last night
They came and took my child
Flesh from my womb
Blood of my blood
Killed her
Threw
Her remains into the dustbin
With flies, wrappers
Banana peels
Then I know
Within my heart
You God
Are not a woman.
Wednesday, November 28, 2007
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Posts
5 comments:
Hello Ayesha,
I went through all your poem. The are very good. I must say its nice to see and read something original for a change.. Good work!! keep going!!
Regards,
E
Poetry is the only medium where words reflect a true unification of heart and soul. This is really amazing that your work reflects that you have been exposed to this wonderful art at a very young age. The inquest for creativity in your writing reveals the strong imaginary and visionary world around you. The one suggestion is that to bring more symbolic feel in your work. The symbolic power of words draws the picture in the minds of readers that you want to portray or communicate. Just continue to swim though your imagination to produce your true reflection. Good work and best of luck for future.
Hey, it was nice talking to you on the phone. I figured I should give you my email id so we can keep in touch. Take care, and keep writing.
Avvu
it's so vivid. it's so livid.
thanks for giving birth to such an amazing slash of words.
Post a Comment