Building bridges out of air,
flashing light orbs do fare.
I wonder if you're aware
of all our matter there.
creation's cosmic flare.
continuums, universal connections.
magnetic poles, attractions.
Building blocks of bodies.
Souls singing in siren-song
along invisible threads
at mercy to the wind,
whispering of ancient long,
building bridges to Babylon
to build a new, loving home,
back at the start,
when once we did
all equally belong,
Love's beating heart.
Thanks for reading! K:)
what poison ridden blood,
flowing under my flesh
you hate the most;
incisors digging through
layer after layer of tissue,
you wish to extract
in a violent fit of
I do not know much of hemodynamics,
of the constant flow
which gives life to this body
no matter how much venom is introduced.
I know these vessels
are not filled with the red stuff of life,
but with a different ichor:
I feel it seep
through flesh and bone,
watch it crawl
down wrist and thigh and chin
on nights when creation
bursts right out
and breaks the skin,
in spite of everything.
I do not know much of art
but that it is a natural bodily process,
and that without it,
physical shock ensues.
still rife with poison,
produce a particular
attempting to remain
resistant to ruin.
But when the page is full,
that patient poet
and then silence.
Once my birth was simple:
you made me up unwillingly;
I leaped from your forehead like
Athena did from Zeus'.
You were more than just a father-figure
and back in those days
you found joy in my design.
From a glance of you
I learned the light,
from another the darkness itself.
I craved to know more
but somehow you lost the will teach me;
to finish my making real.
in the embrace of
your torturing abandonment
I became my own midwife:
to learn my own creation,
to be my own design.
Our God is a wondrous God
he is the creator
there isn’t anyone greater
he’s created the earth
and the constellations
he produced everything original
anything and everything we need
with only a handful of seed
he held in the palm of his hand
seeds of other planets
and seeds of a distant star
everything we see
and everything we are
he marveled at the seeds of life
he held in his palm
and when the winds were calm
he blew the seeds upon the land
into the seas
and across the sand
he’s created everything we see
and everything we are
from our home planet
to the distant star!
Still pale grey earth is turned,
Deep is the loam moisted,
Lone by the Ploughman.
The rows of the brushed patches,
Sweating the breakneck blood,
Are painted by labours.
Messiah doors out cathedral,
With iron plod anoints the soil,
Exposed unto mercy sun.
His hands are knobbed in stone,
His eyes searing of the star,
His face dark as deep loam.
Each day ablutions of sod earth,
Heaved out tilling unfree wills,
Burdens of harnessed beast.
Dark is the turned loam moisted,
Water flame heat of veined mist,
Seeds sown explode to bloom.
After thorny works, crowned blood,
Sun leaves to wine red fruition,
Ploughman maker is done.
~ MOTHER ~
Qul lil mumineena yaghuddoo min absarihim
Sons of Adam,
you have failed me,
you have failed me and your God who
have told you to do since the Olden days.
to tunduk, lower your gaze
Respect the lineage of Eve, of Hawa,
Jadi tundukkan pandangan mata
was what God commanded you
but that you did not do
Instead you have called me names
that never once belonged to me
I've been called a hantu, anak syaitan.
To you I was the wild and unkempt demon who kidnapped kids too curious to stay indoors at dusk so I hid them
underneath my monstrous breasts
and watched as they kicked, screamed and gasped
Like I really have nothing else better to do.
None of these names
come close to the ones that I was given.
You see I was the first woman
your eyes laid upon.
the only thing that could lull you to sleep.
You have called me ibu,
mama, bonda, mak, and ummi
Yes, your mother who sang you those lullabies at night. Your mother and
I always, always nurture my children.
But now you identify me
by the first thing that your fallen eyes see
You obsess instead over the dimensions
of my breasts
Throw names into the air like Hantu Tetek and Hantu Kopek
Through your giggles, cringes and laughters You disrespect me.
Forgetting everything I have taught you since you were young,
well let me refresh your memory, sayang.
You did not laugh when you were hungry for milk
Instead you cried as loud as you could
Not out of love but out of a genuine fear of death.
Let me remind you the power
of a woman's wrath
through the stories of these names
as I know how to tell them best.
Contrary to popular belief,
I am more than the sum of my parts.
Certainly I am more than just this part of my body.
God who taught Adam the names of all things did not show him a woman
only to hear him say, "breasts"
do not laugh, sit down
Read your holy book
Iqra wa rabbukal akram
and certainly Adam knew what he meant
when he called me
The Mother of All Living Things.
I sing stories of the divine femininity
Maybe that's why men fear me.
Perhaps I remind them
that they came out from the in-between
of their mother's shivering thighs, that they've survived simply from the nourishments of their mother's tits.
I represent all the things
that you do not understand.
I am the great mystery.
So you desire to tame me.
If fear of a name
only increases fear of the thing itself.
Then fear me.
For my name is Mahsuri
whose gushes of darah putih
caused by the tombak
not the rage of the keris
was not blood but the milk that was meant for her child.
As how the milk was drained from her body
so too did her curse dry up the fertile soils of Langkawi.
Fear me for my name is Bumi,
You have called me Gaia,
I am still your Ibu Pertiwi.
Fear me for I am the mother of all your prophets
I am Yokhebed. The mother of Moses.
I am Mariam. The mother of Jesus.
I am Hagar. I am Hajar,
si ibu yang berlari dari bukit ke bukit,
mencari air untuk diminum oleh aku,
bukan si Ismail.
The miracle of zamzam was not for my son but for me so that I could in turn feed him back into existence.
I am Paradise,
I am Jannah,
Feeha anharun min ma-in ghayri asinin
wa anharun min labanin lam yataghayyar
Far from the sins of hell's fire,
I have rivers of water and milk
of which their taste never change.
So why would you think you can
change my names?
All the parts of my sum
Was created by a very generous God.
The same God who told you then
and still tells you now to
I had to share it. Such a woman's sublime, organic, elemental and natural power combined with highly gentile intelligence. Divine woman!
Sheena ~ You shine, dear poetess!
Love and many blessings from Divine Dao<3
I feel you as a ghost -- deeply close,
wed somewhere far within.
I feel you living, shimmering along
the static edge of my enduring spirit
in electric phosphorescence.
Where tender muscle and flesh
tether and mesh, latch and connect
with bone to construct a home --
create a fleeting vehicle for my soul
to navigate this immense cathedral of life.
To filter in perceptions and feel the power
of the physical light that pierces through
the colorful windows of the mandala of my mind.
It blooms into ceaseless fractals –
repetitive, reactive patterns built upon
the complex fragments of both you and I
combined, slicing through time, reverberating
outwards through expansive space.
We are an exalted eternity of opening
and collapsing gates to the never-ending
center of this unfathomable plane.
I feel you as a ghost -- so deeply close.
Where all philosophy fails to breach.
Resting secretly where neither brain
nor name could ever truly reach.
Where heart and instinct ultimately meet
and give their gifts blissfully to
the soft sheets of nothingness.
It is there that we rest as
bated, staggered breath.
That holy jewel in hidden chest --
so lustrous in its loveliness
it completely outshines the beautiful,
dividing, shapeless outlines of each other.
Unified, we become a godly, static shudder --
a vibration that contracts, begets like mother—
delivering dreaming worlds that spin away, asunder,
blinded with joy as they find themselves born.