Happy 10 years to me =D

10 years in WordPress =D Thank Allah Almighty! Not everyone can write this long =)

I am happy whatever I have written here. Writing has been there for me during VERY troubled times. And, I am happy to have had it. It makes me so happy to know I can still write and that it has the same meaning to me as it did then as it does now =)

I wanna continue on writing for hopefully another 10 years! =D

Perseverent

I haven’t written
And, I haven’t chosen to be written;
though I am written in leaves and blood
and the mud — snapping with teeth
like the branches of the woods

Oh, youth, you made me feel fresh

And immortal

Not a serving of flesh cased behind a bone
and all the bone is chewing to break out
to now what it cannot know, now

I wanted so much to know what it was like to write
to have known if I had written anything of any value

I am writing as I will always write
clutch my blood next to the quilled ink
sparrow along the ridges and dominant the
lull of the breath; stay passive at the apex of the muscle

I will knead into me a belonging in poetry
as the bread knows the yeast and the sky knows the sun.—

I wonder

I am actually wondering if people still like my poetry. I realised today I am not as prolific as I once was like 5-7 years ago. I also wondered if my poetry stills means anything to anyone. I know through my entire time writing in this blog for almost 11 years that it has been a bittersweet, but meaningful journey. I had my lows and highs. I was able to share some of them here. I was experimental, logical, emotive, attempting to positive and empathetic but also at times mislead. I am happy that I have grown up so much. Matured more than I could have ever realised when I have started. This has been a very personal and intimate journey for me. I have been very fortunate to have had it. I Thank Allah Almighty that I did. It means so much to me.

So, I wanna continue forward. I wanna keep on writing poems here. I wanna keep on experimenting and writing my feelings. If the years back was more an experimentation I think the years would be a mix of confessions and memoirs as well.

I wanna thank everyone who stuck by me as I kept on writing here. I hope to keep on writing more and more.

I feel Blessed that I can write. I Thank Allah Almighty. I just feel blessed to get to know these poems and also have them in me.

Continuing on the journey of writing poems

Much love and good luck and prayers to me and the readers ❤

ennui-tonic

this import of aggression that ennui had made
worsted and winnowed into a fine parable
that only I can share; I who hold the bones
and the crosshairs of my skeletal affixations

this tire which is smoothened and crinkled by the night
whose gaze is not a penetration by a clitoral malady
and not a sufficeless prefix that pretends to bode well

there is a feeling, as I said in the last verse, an endless beginning
or a ending without any beginning. I am obsessed with ennui and boredom
because I do not know if life was an egg for me or already a chicken
whose paleontology I studied in some slaughterhouse on some heap
and made up crude names for its near-extinction. Yes, near extinction…

for we have domesticated life and the simulacra of domestication continues
you may say I too sometimes become manifestation of such a domestication
where culture restricts my sex to either so-called modesty or so-called openness

for the Venus De Milo is a nude without arms  and the Mona Lisa is always a
guesswork in progress. Caught between the Madonna and the Whore of Old
wondering which path I can take and knowing so forging my own takes more courage
it takes a certain kind of loyalty which is civil disobedience but there is Walden I can

retreat to feeling that there would be no taxation upon my sex and gender; even if I bide as a conscious gynandrous of sorts. I do not like to be bound as bondage portraits nor fixed as a saint. I want a messy me; getting tired of being a pendulous predictable.▬

solace temporary; torture temporary

bits and pieces of raggedy bone
that is the slimming of my patience
reading other poets online to be inspired
as I am exasperated, weight gain and the logic of dieting
it infuriates me; not due to non-participation, I need exercise
yet a lush-and vivid life too; to call my own
this ennui blinks and I am tundra or desert or something of barking sap
madness of impatience winning, I am no race winner. I came second place once
in Year 2, Class 2, I have the silver, white ribboned medallion. I loved running and still do
I love feeling the orbit of the earth on my soles: I have to learn to romanticise treadmills
as sexist bitches and sexist tropes don’t allow me the run I need to feel the axis of my heels
know the axis of the planet. I so want to be a projectile, yet they narrow me to mechanics
objectification of body fitness. I am just angry. Why can’t things be my way for once? God,
why do I always beg? Please give me something as you recently did. I need this. I need to run
in open spaces. For now, only for now, I will also do this liminal walking. Only because I love running
but this is a compromise temporary. I will weave my wings back somehow — God, you have to let me.▬

Defeating Defeat

If I die tonight, would anyone care?
I choose to live tonight. Because I care.
And that is enough. That is enough.
That is enough. That is always enough—
these fuckers who feel they can unfriend me
block me, redact me, detract me, gossip me,
try to categorise me into think plates of fuck
that they eat through their asses should know
I am enough to decimate them if I start
howling a song, a fury, a sound, Faulkner’s gonna say
“Wow, I wanna fuck her!” — I am not a loose end to your charming story
I am not a thread to fill up your tattoo needed space — I am more than space
I am spatially allocated but go beyond that. Who the fuck do you think you are?
I am a fucking one as much as you. Privilege and poverty runs bare and wild in both
our veins — if I die tonight you will be die with me. I won’t die tonight. For I am encased
in depression — which makes me bleed. Which makes me bleed. I am numb but I bleed. I cry, I wail
I wail and breakdown then I stand up. I FIGHT FOR EACH FEET TO BE PLACED!

I won’t be dyed with death
death will be dyed by me — I think I heard those lines before. Death, not today.
Know me. I stand in the precipice. Linger in my life. I will linger in yours.
I may die many times before my death
But because I rose up
Death live with me
You bring gloomy clouds
I will bring rainbows
Without each other we are incomplete
So I am going to live
Know Life
For life is what they wanna deny me
like it was theirs to deny

I DENY THEM

EXISTENCE IN MY LIFE
EXIST ELSEWHERE MOTHERFUCKER FOOLS

I am a prism
I am a resurgence
I am cancer to your avarice
I am antidote to your envy
I am jalapeno that can eat your jealousies

I am me.
Broken
Scarred
Scratched
Feathered
And Tarred
Yet like oil I am valuable as fuck
My saliva, froth, rabid to live
washes away the tar

I am immortal for I am human.—