"sati" poems - Hello Poetry

They tell me to stick to my roots because roots lead up to shoots. They tell me to stick to my origin unaware of how it acts as a prison, My roots are Draupadi's hair that was twisted and lugged, my roots are Panchali's saree that was tugged. My roots are Sita's wrist Ravana wrested, my roots are where Ahalya's chastity rested. My roots are parasites that eat up its own herb and **** my roots are rat snakes that eat up its own tissue and meat. My roots are flames of fire that created and watered the plant of Sati, my roots are pools of blood and long ropes that drowned and hanged LaxmiBai and Moolmati. My roots are the dish misogyny flavoured with patriarchy, my roots are naked streams of Ganga washing off their lynching and anarchy. My roots are all the poison Shiva drank during the churning of the sea, my roots are Dhritrashtra's aspirations and ambiguity. My roots are its own herbivore, my roots are the lava that burns its own floor. And my roots are my flesh and bone, so I am stitched to my roots altogether, all alone. So as I cut my own roots, my roots chop me, hence I stick to my roots while my roots remain free.

0

May 25, 2020

May 25, 2020 at 4:00 AM UTC

Kirangoswami

Grounded

They tell me to stick to my roots because roots lead up to shoots. They tell me to stick to my origin unaware of how it acts as a prison, My roots are Draupadi's hair that was twisted and lugged, my roots are Panchali's saree that was tugged. My roots are Sita's wrist Ravana wrested, my roots are where Ahalya's chastity rested. My roots are parasites that eat up its own herb and **** my roots are rat snakes that eat up its own tissue and meat. My roots are flames of fire that created and watered the plant of Sati, my roots are pools of blood and long ropes that drowned and hanged LaxmiBai and Moolmati. My roots are the dish misogyny flavoured with patriarchy, my roots are naked streams of Ganga washing off their lynching and anarchy. My roots are all the poison Shiva drank during the churning of the sea, my roots are Dhritrashtra's aspirations and ambiguity. My roots are its own herbivore, my roots are the lava that burns its own floor. And my roots are my flesh and bone, so I am stitched to my roots altogether, all alone. So as I cut my own roots, my roots chop me, hence I stick to my roots while my roots remain free.

22

*where are women really safe? how is it that society-collect FAILS as humanity stumbles yet again.. and again? our lady-folk are not safe*.. Amaya-bai finds little comfort but in sibilant-twin as no eye of sun nor ginoo laid eye on this binukot Olga is the silent-saint; believes in charity at home yet chaos ensues too easily - she is wronged and just gets.. lost in the system Zandile fetches precious amanzi in her sun-soaked calabash her vigilant-sister falls.. roving guerrilla-men from the river's edge Michelle, la petite belle, survives the daily-grind via low-coin tubes to Champs-Élysées as assistante-de-pharmacie Aadita, from the outset at 15, dons a veil hiding ****** acid-burns she has some relative-luck to escape sati later on Amy with downtrod-heart, grabs the tram to downtown family wearing dark glasses and gloves on rainy-day blues Emiko graced (yet cursed) with beauty struggles with ancient-practice despite the ban, silent-suffering lotus-gait in the tiny village Aisha may be alive but not well from ethnic-marking tragedy as irugu are outcast from all-too prevalent gishiri-cruelty *might as well take a trip to Vladivostok or be dumped in a sarcophagus beneath the Pyramids safer there* S T - 27 sept 2013 - freitag

0

Sep 27, 2013

Sep 27, 2013 at 3:59 AM UTC

st64

Trip to Vladivostok

*where are women really safe? how is it that society-collect FAILS as humanity stumbles yet again.. and again? our lady-folk are not safe*.. Amaya-bai finds little comfort but in sibilant-twin as no eye of sun nor ginoo laid eye on this binukot Olga is the silent-saint; believes in charity at home yet chaos ensues too easily - she is wronged and just gets.. lost in the system Zandile fetches precious amanzi in her sun-soaked calabash her vigilant-sister falls.. roving guerrilla-men from the river's edge Michelle, la petite belle, survives the daily-grind via low-coin tubes to Champs-Élysées as assistante-de-pharmacie Aadita, from the outset at 15, dons a veil hiding ****** acid-burns she has some relative-luck to escape sati later on Amy with downtrod-heart, grabs the tram to downtown family wearing dark glasses and gloves on rainy-day blues Emiko graced (yet cursed) with beauty struggles with ancient-practice despite the ban, silent-suffering lotus-gait in the tiny village Aisha may be alive but not well from ethnic-marking tragedy as irugu are outcast from all-too prevalent gishiri-cruelty *might as well take a trip to Vladivostok or be dumped in a sarcophagus beneath the Pyramids safer there* S T - 27 sept 2013 - freitag

25

There are days that my heart can't take how much pain women are having to carry in their hearts all the **** time. We hold the scars close, digging at them behind closed doors and discussing it in hushed tones. Our homes are not ours. They're a minefield of memories we'd rather bury with our own walking carcasses. Then maybe, we'll set ourselves on fire in the hope that maybe, just maybe, we'll be respected in death like Sati. And then they'll say, "What a brave life she led!" Or maybe something to the effect of, "Maybe we should have heard her screaming before she even walked into the pyre."

0

Nov 1, 2018

Nov 1, 2018 at 5:39 AM UTC

sonia-thomas

Pyres Don't Lie

There are days that my heart can't take how much pain women are having to carry in their hearts all the **** time. We hold the scars close, digging at them behind closed doors and discussing it in hushed tones. Our homes are not ours. They're a minefield of memories we'd rather bury with our own walking carcasses. Then maybe, we'll set ourselves on fire in the hope that maybe, just maybe, we'll be respected in death like Sati. And then they'll say, "What a brave life she led!" Or maybe something to the effect of, "Maybe we should have heard her screaming before she even walked into the pyre."

5

A father who has conquered all that is in space, here and among the stars and the higher worlds, begot Her as his child, She of an essence beyond time: aeons of vaster joys, sundered now from the world so sorely imperfect, must yet come down here to lead us back to the wonder beauty of the blank spirit the basis of all; We can bottle up fragrance in choicest the vials of our whim: but released, it must fill all space, no less. So was She the freedom shining in the stars flowing in the rivers that raft through the hills in the winds that beat down the vales; Protected, She grew in his home among others lustred lesser shining forth as his darling who would keep aflame the glory of his name;

0

Sep 29, 2018

Sep 29, 2018 at 2:20 PM UTC

prabhu-iyer

The beginning | Sati - 1

A father who has conquered all that is in space, here and among the stars and the higher worlds, begot Her as his child, She of an essence beyond time: aeons of vaster joys, sundered now from the world so sorely imperfect, must yet come down here to lead us back to the wonder beauty of the blank spirit the basis of all; We can bottle up fragrance in choicest the vials of our whim: but released, it must fill all space, no less. So was She the freedom shining in the stars flowing in the rivers that raft through the hills in the winds that beat down the vales; Protected, She grew in his home among others lustred lesser shining forth as his darling who would keep aflame the glory of his name;

25

:Ignite .ılılıll ɢʀᴏᴡ ᴡɪᴛʜɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ғʟᴏᴡ llılılı SToP: Lemme seizure perception knowledge is a question asked in reflection yup, such a simple inception but we all get caught up while we messin learning earth's sacred lessons What now though? Identity//beheaded Grey ghost, unleaded got odds like Yudhistira so we betted our :/: ego:: we had to shed it problem:: we known to vet it poison:: we GOTTA **** it old skin:: WE SHED THAT TOO Known to fold my body like oragami quiet uprising you call call me ghandi preach non-violence practice samadhi Principly Primal powerful and bridal *** in more dimensions the many armed eater of time holding on like I'm ******* kali wannabe-Ascetic, dreaded, wandering in the right line, posture asuna-siva, like I'm ******* Kali, See time as convex atman = brahman means I'm God Complex Every day set fire to myself like Sati Go ash to mouth and make myself rise like a phoneix

0

Apr 25, 2016

Apr 25, 2016 at 12:18 PM UTC

Im

Ash to Mouth

:Ignite .ılılıll ɢʀᴏᴡ ᴡɪᴛʜɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ғʟᴏᴡ llılılı SToP: Lemme seizure perception knowledge is a question asked in reflection yup, such a simple inception but we all get caught up while we messin learning earth's sacred lessons What now though? Identity//beheaded Grey ghost, unleaded got odds like Yudhistira so we betted our :/: ego:: we had to shed it problem:: we known to vet it poison:: we GOTTA **** it old skin:: WE SHED THAT TOO Known to fold my body like oragami quiet uprising you call call me ghandi preach non-violence practice samadhi Principly Primal powerful and bridal *** in more dimensions the many armed eater of time holding on like I'm ******* kali wannabe-Ascetic, dreaded, wandering in the right line, posture asuna-siva, like I'm ******* Kali, See time as convex atman = brahman means I'm God Complex Every day set fire to myself like Sati Go ash to mouth and make myself rise like a phoneix

35

** "The one adjustment that makes a tragic thing bearable is a smile - however forced." ** You don't know. All griefs are small griefs, you would like to tell me, with happiness' wind behind you. You don't know, I danced with those sati ladies with my shirt off. All griefs are insurmountable, dangling at the end of infinite tines. Your teeth reach out as your soul reaches. And somewhere in the night, somebody is using a dead man's voice and wrapping himself in Christmas lights. Grief for the father, tears for the son. The news is a lonely cube of ice in my fevered mouth. I swallow cold water.

0

Mar 19, 2013

Mar 19, 2013 at 2:07 AM UTC

wade-redfearn

Mourning

** "The one adjustment that makes a tragic thing bearable is a smile - however forced." ** You don't know. All griefs are small griefs, you would like to tell me, with happiness' wind behind you. You don't know, I danced with those sati ladies with my shirt off. All griefs are insurmountable, dangling at the end of infinite tines. Your teeth reach out as your soul reaches. And somewhere in the night, somebody is using a dead man's voice and wrapping himself in Christmas lights. Grief for the father, tears for the son. The news is a lonely cube of ice in my fevered mouth. I swallow cold water.

19

For her sundered from space and time at the dawn of phenomenon, not the little pettinesses of our world: and a portal to the unknown beyond - the sky flaming red at dusk, still in the lake the late summer hill little a bloom in the bush hidden, even shy a smile devoid of guile, little every joy here; Thought they, faint of heart she was: but every swoon carried her across the world of the river of lights In Her presence dawned on this forlorn our earth - Beauty since the beginning of time exuberant in the hills in the plumes and vales and in the cruel hearts of men; And grandeur, of the kind unbeknown before, as the king her father sewed up an empire vast; And perfection in works unknown before - in every weave and hew; All that men ascribed to her father the great.

0

May 2, 2019

May 2, 2019 at 5:37 PM UTC

prabhu-iyer

Borrowed splendour | Sati -2

For her sundered from space and time at the dawn of phenomenon, not the little pettinesses of our world: and a portal to the unknown beyond - the sky flaming red at dusk, still in the lake the late summer hill little a bloom in the bush hidden, even shy a smile devoid of guile, little every joy here; Thought they, faint of heart she was: but every swoon carried her across the world of the river of lights In Her presence dawned on this forlorn our earth - Beauty since the beginning of time exuberant in the hills in the plumes and vales and in the cruel hearts of men; And grandeur, of the kind unbeknown before, as the king her father sewed up an empire vast; And perfection in works unknown before - in every weave and hew; All that men ascribed to her father the great.

28

Do you know how much I love you? I’m going to tell you: You are my everything. You are the breath in my lungs, and you are my heartbeat. You are my sun, my moon, my stars. You are my sky, my galaxy, my entire universe. You are my North star, my guiding star, the light that I seek to guide me through my darkest nights. I would give my last breath for you, I would give my heartbeat for you. I would take a bullet to the heart or a knife in the back for you. I would move mountains, part oceans, I would move the heavens and the Earth for you. I would walk through the bitterest blizzard or the cruelest flames for you. In ancient India, there were Sati wives. A Sati wife loved her husband completely and unconditionally, and if her husband was killed in battle or in hunting, in work or in illness, then she would grieve with all her heart for him. And when the day of his funeral came, and the funeral pyre was lit, the Sati wife would throw her body onto the flames in a final act of love and devotion, because she would rather die than live without him. If we lived in ancient India, I would be your Sati wife. If you were to die, I would throw my body into the flames of your funeral pyre, because I could not bear to live without you. I love you completely, unconditionally, purely, thoroughly, with all of my heart and with every single cell, fiber and molecule of my being. Every new cell that forms to replace a dying cell loves you more than the last, and as a result, I love you more every single day. You are everything to me, and I will never stop loving you, never stop caring for you, never leave your side. Even when I’m far away, I will still be with you always. I love you. I love you so, so, so, so very, very much. ♥

0

Jan 28, 2016

Jan 28, 2016 at 10:39 AM UTC

MessageintheSky

Heart On My Sleeve

Do you know how much I love you? I’m going to tell you: You are my everything. You are the breath in my lungs, and you are my heartbeat. You are my sun, my moon, my stars. You are my sky, my galaxy, my entire universe. You are my North star, my guiding star, the light that I seek to guide me through my darkest nights. I would give my last breath for you, I would give my heartbeat for you. I would take a bullet to the heart or a knife in the back for you. I would move mountains, part oceans, I would move the heavens and the Earth for you. I would walk through the bitterest blizzard or the cruelest flames for you. In ancient India, there were Sati wives. A Sati wife loved her husband completely and unconditionally, and if her husband was killed in battle or in hunting, in work or in illness, then she would grieve with all her heart for him. And when the day of his funeral came, and the funeral pyre was lit, the Sati wife would throw her body onto the flames in a final act of love and devotion, because she would rather die than live without him. If we lived in ancient India, I would be your Sati wife. If you were to die, I would throw my body into the flames of your funeral pyre, because I could not bear to live without you. I love you completely, unconditionally, purely, thoroughly, with all of my heart and with every single cell, fiber and molecule of my being. Every new cell that forms to replace a dying cell loves you more than the last, and as a result, I love you more every single day. You are everything to me, and I will never stop loving you, never stop caring for you, never leave your side. Even when I’m far away, I will still be with you always. I love you. I love you so, so, so, so very, very much. ♥

64

After long the terrible night, flaming as hope searing the eastern sky one with the dawn, she rises: Now quenched of aeons a soul-thirst of the suffering world for realms of unending light; Sing now the Gods in the hymns of a thousand cherubs flying past, dancing among the ripples in a hundred lakes and petals awoken to the victory of joy; Born of the flesh here mortal now a Goddess no less miracle end of a love birthing across cocoon lives, adorning her beloved vast like a vermilion dot the gong of the syllable high, humming in the wind breaking, hair streaking clouds across the horizon, and yet a human She is like us, but for all the cells, transformed in the alchemy of light: The bridge for our plane to the wisdom worlds across ascending past ought and nought, into the arms of her beloved the ineffable base of all that is; And thus went the first of us a daughter of the mountains that ascended from here, uncovering for us the paths to the realms of unending light

0

Apr 17, 2019

Apr 17, 2019 at 2:30 PM UTC

prabhu-iyer

the blessed dawn of love | Sati - the end

After long the terrible night, flaming as hope searing the eastern sky one with the dawn, she rises: Now quenched of aeons a soul-thirst of the suffering world for realms of unending light; Sing now the Gods in the hymns of a thousand cherubs flying past, dancing among the ripples in a hundred lakes and petals awoken to the victory of joy; Born of the flesh here mortal now a Goddess no less miracle end of a love birthing across cocoon lives, adorning her beloved vast like a vermilion dot the gong of the syllable high, humming in the wind breaking, hair streaking clouds across the horizon, and yet a human She is like us, but for all the cells, transformed in the alchemy of light: The bridge for our plane to the wisdom worlds across ascending past ought and nought, into the arms of her beloved the ineffable base of all that is; And thus went the first of us a daughter of the mountains that ascended from here, uncovering for us the paths to the realms of unending light

34

karagatang mapanglaw ang sati'y naglalayo sa malamig na tanglaw ang ulilang pagsuyo

0

May 22, 2019

May 22, 2019 at 1:21 AM UTC

na-lipay

°°

karagatang mapanglaw ang sati'y naglalayo sa malamig na tanglaw ang ulilang pagsuyo

4

Anupshahr disharmonies approaching midnight now A festival, a holiday, perhaps a sacred cow Is to be venerated piously As custom will allow To Mumtaz-Mahal Calliope That Shah Jahan’s my vow Unto unveiling a society That forces her to bow Her brow, avert her eyes From thoughts of impropriety Oh how she tries, but can’t revise Disguises hiding womanize Abusing them in privacy As Durga roars and Sati cries I’m left to worship silently

0

Nov 3, 2017

Nov 3, 2017 at 3:38 PM UTC

michael-marchese

Parda

Anupshahr disharmonies approaching midnight now A festival, a holiday, perhaps a sacred cow Is to be venerated piously As custom will allow To Mumtaz-Mahal Calliope That Shah Jahan’s my vow Unto unveiling a society That forces her to bow Her brow, avert her eyes From thoughts of impropriety Oh how she tries, but can’t revise Disguises hiding womanize Abusing them in privacy As Durga roars and Sati cries I’m left to worship silently

15

Ka mike an ce karkata Kai! taka an ce tatata Yaushe ne rana za ta? Gani na abokin ta wata Ba rana, sati har wata Tun da na hango yar wata Mata daga gefe na kai mata Hari dan na nuna bajinta ta Ai ko sai tayi mini raf ta ta Ta rike hannu na me kanta Sai ta ja ni cikin dangi na ta Tai ta nuni ga dangi nan na ta Baba yayi murna babu karkata Umma ta taka yar rawa ta ta Don murna har da kawa ta ta Maganar aure ce na yi mata Tun da fari ta dauke kai nata Ta bi son rai da kawaye nata Mai kudi shine a gaba nata Na manta har da batu na ta Rana daya sai ga kira na ta Gaisuwa ta Mahaifi na tayi Ra'ayi, sauyawa ta sa na yi Tausayi shine da yasa nayi Kan batun labarin da tayi Zuciya ta raurawa nan tayi Tausayawa zuciya ta nan tayi Na amshi batun ta kuma za'ayi Takure kai na duka ni nayi Do na nuna bajinta da ra'ayi Na kudurce aure ne zamu yi Yan uwa murna duka sun tayi Fatan alheri an ta yi Na ganin auren mu da za'ayi Gashi nan dai auren an yi Tun da fari fa zaki ne yayi Dandanon madara duka yayi Har Zuma da madi duka yayi Daga baya ta sauya ra'ayi Na shiga uku na kara uku Bana son na shige can kurkuku In na kara shiga uku sau uku

0

Apr 9, 2022

Apr 9, 2022 at 6:28 PM UTC

Safana

Kai! Duniya ta

Ka mike an ce karkata Kai! taka an ce tatata Yaushe ne rana za ta? Gani na abokin ta wata Ba rana, sati har wata Tun da na hango yar wata Mata daga gefe na kai mata Hari dan na nuna bajinta ta Ai ko sai tayi mini raf ta ta Ta rike hannu na me kanta Sai ta ja ni cikin dangi na ta Tai ta nuni ga dangi nan na ta Baba yayi murna babu karkata Umma ta taka yar rawa ta ta Don murna har da kawa ta ta Maganar aure ce na yi mata Tun da fari ta dauke kai nata Ta bi son rai da kawaye nata Mai kudi shine a gaba nata Na manta har da batu na ta Rana daya sai ga kira na ta Gaisuwa ta Mahaifi na tayi Ra'ayi, sauyawa ta sa na yi Tausayi shine da yasa nayi Kan batun labarin da tayi Zuciya ta raurawa nan tayi Tausayawa zuciya ta nan tayi Na amshi batun ta kuma za'ayi Takure kai na duka ni nayi Do na nuna bajinta da ra'ayi Na kudurce aure ne zamu yi Yan uwa murna duka sun tayi Fatan alheri an ta yi Na ganin auren mu da za'ayi Gashi nan dai auren an yi Tun da fari fa zaki ne yayi Dandanon madara duka yayi Har Zuma da madi duka yayi Daga baya ta sauya ra'ayi Na shiga uku na kara uku Bana son na shige can kurkuku In na kara shiga uku sau uku

42

POLJUBCI S TVOJIH USANA U ovoj toploj noći san mi ne dolazi na oči. Oblaci su nebo prekrili mjesec su sakrili. Zvijezde ne sjaje vrijeme ljeta još traje. Sa prozora Čiovo se vidi na počinak su išli ljudi. Na kantunalu stoji naša slika moja ljubav prema tebi je velika. Tih ću biti ne bih te htio probuditi želim te sretnu ujutro vidjeti. Na moru jedrenjak sa bijelim jedrima osvjetljava more sa svojim svijetlima. Kasni su noćni sati vrijeme je da se pođe spavati. Zaželim želju prije sna da me ujutro bude poljubci sa tvojih usana. Stjepan Orlić

0

Sep 9, 2025

Sep 9, 2025 at 6:07 AM UTC

stjepan

POLJUBCI S TVOJIH USANA

POLJUBCI S TVOJIH USANA U ovoj toploj noći san mi ne dolazi na oči. Oblaci su nebo prekrili mjesec su sakrili. Zvijezde ne sjaje vrijeme ljeta još traje. Sa prozora Čiovo se vidi na počinak su išli ljudi. Na kantunalu stoji naša slika moja ljubav prema tebi je velika. Tih ću biti ne bih te htio probuditi želim te sretnu ujutro vidjeti. Na moru jedrenjak sa bijelim jedrima osvjetljava more sa svojim svijetlima. Kasni su noćni sati vrijeme je da se pođe spavati. Zaželim želju prije sna da me ujutro bude poljubci sa tvojih usana. Stjepan Orlić

24

Who am I? Am I Radha who lived in every corner of your mind,yet was never written in your fate? Am I Rukmini bound to you by dharma and destiny,yet forever wondering if your heart truly called out my name? Am I Sati who burned in silence,leaving in the middle of our journey,because the world failed to see what we shared? Am I Seetha tested by time,separated by fate,yet tied to you in an unspoken promise? Am I Shakuntala forgotten in your memory, yet carrying the seed of our love in silence? Am I Damyanti who chose love over kingdom,when the world saw only a queen lost? Am I Sathyabhama whom you won like a prize, a gift of pride? Am I Lakshmi always seen at your feet? But now, after walking through the fire of my own questions,after analysing every role the world gave me I know who I truly am. I am Radha,who let go, not out of weakness,but out of love strong enough to set you free. I am Rukmini,who can fight with the world even with my own blood to stand beside you when no one else will. I am Parvathi,reborn in different forms, yet always drawn to you by the same soul thread. I am Seetha,who may wander forests and endure storms,but my heart never forgets the rhythm of yours. I am Shakuntala,who waited with dignity, Knowing love never begs, only believes. I am Damyanti,who walked through ruin and shadow,to reach the one my soul chose. I am Sathyabhama, who killed my son to protect you. I am Lakshmi,rhythm of your breath,the calm in your chaos. I am the one Filled with love, Enriched with dharma, Groomed with peace.

0

Apr 7, 2025

Apr 7, 2025 at 3:04 AM UTC

Sarayu

Who am I?

Who am I? Am I Radha who lived in every corner of your mind,yet was never written in your fate? Am I Rukmini bound to you by dharma and destiny,yet forever wondering if your heart truly called out my name? Am I Sati who burned in silence,leaving in the middle of our journey,because the world failed to see what we shared? Am I Seetha tested by time,separated by fate,yet tied to you in an unspoken promise? Am I Shakuntala forgotten in your memory, yet carrying the seed of our love in silence? Am I Damyanti who chose love over kingdom,when the world saw only a queen lost? Am I Sathyabhama whom you won like a prize, a gift of pride? Am I Lakshmi always seen at your feet? But now, after walking through the fire of my own questions,after analysing every role the world gave me I know who I truly am. I am Radha,who let go, not out of weakness,but out of love strong enough to set you free. I am Rukmini,who can fight with the world even with my own blood to stand beside you when no one else will. I am Parvathi,reborn in different forms, yet always drawn to you by the same soul thread. I am Seetha,who may wander forests and endure storms,but my heart never forgets the rhythm of yours. I am Shakuntala,who waited with dignity, Knowing love never begs, only believes. I am Damyanti,who walked through ruin and shadow,to reach the one my soul chose. I am Sathyabhama, who killed my son to protect you. I am Lakshmi,rhythm of your breath,the calm in your chaos. I am the one Filled with love, Enriched with dharma, Groomed with peace.

24