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| Pankajam |
Being a Woman
In quiescence I preach;I take pride being a woman
and would like to look feminine
with sweet shyness and blushing cheeks,
yet blanket my feminine trails
like the ‘touch-me- not’ leaves
annoying compliments don’t enslave me.
Melanin in skin decides ones attributes
soft rhythm in trots accentuates traits
my body is a temple of nurturing powers
none assigned with rights to relegate it.
I wish to admit my mistakes,
to show my strength through it and grow,
not a weakness it is, I counter,
Don’t take for granted, or brand me timid.
I want to be everything,
nothing at all at the same time
be smart, but not appear smarter than you
in your guess precisely, not to hurt your ego,
maintain peace between us is my motto
as we travel together between life and death .
I want to be independent,
be on my own to boost my confidence,
not that I do not need you,
you can be the shade I embrace to be in light
like the maple leaves to the butterflies in rain.
We are different, but no discrimination
mutually reliant we are, none superior.
You and I are fed with the same milk
both at birth, and after death too.
Caged Bird
She perishes in fear, cries muted;like a caged parrot losing its self-worth
its wings clipped to curtail freedom
magnificence, a curse, not its fault
and forgot to sing quite for long;
from the baffling world for liberty,
her pain veiled from plain eyes
not evident even to probing ones.
She is frail to flee, nor strong to resist,
captivity is her forte.
Salt in tears does not allow sorrows to rot.
Words lend her shelter
to dip in their gentle pleats
hope springs and she sings
standing on her dreams’ grave.
Peace permeates, she breathes.
