General

Their Stories

Browse the archives, finger-brush ancient tablets
looking for their names—

you may find a few,
the chattel and relicts of men,

repositories of seeds, like the Earth,
their roots in deep-time connection,

they whisper stories–
conquest, war-spoils, love, and loss,
their children, don’t forget.

A double dVerse challenge:
a poem inspired by a line from the work of Punjabi poet Amrita Pritam, and a quadrille (44-word poem ) containing the word “browse.”

Some of you know I’m a historian. I’ve spent a lot of time in archives trying to uncover women’s stories.

(There are) many stories which are not on paper,
they are written in the bodies and minds of women.
— Amrita Pritam

I hear her each morning
before she rounds the corner
heading to the well.

It is a shuffling, almost furtive,
where her worn sandals
scuffle hard-packed dust.

It would have been kinder to kill her,
but he is not a kind man.
Something about her scuffle
excites him. Reminds him of
the strength it took to take her —
to break her.

Yet there is something else
there in her sound that
rounds the corner each morning.

It is determination.
It is refusal.
It is victory.

Punam is today’s guest host for dVerse’ Poetics. Punam says:
For today’s poetics I am sharing five lines from various poems of Amrita Pritam. Use anyone of them as an epigraph, or as a springboard for your verse. Write in a form…

(There are) many stories which are not on paper, they are written in the bodies and minds of women.
Amrita Pritam

his, “will you cook for me forever!”
that had seemed the most romantic question then, was my undoing
as I happily immersed myself in pots and pans,
tied to the invisible post of domesticity; I lost my true ‘self’

my turmeric stained fingers had no time to stain paper
measuring lentils and rice, I forgot to weigh in my views
relegated to the background
I became a mere prop; useful but useless

every night i braid pain, pillowing my head on it
uncoiling itself, it slithers on to my chest
humming a mournful berceuse to lull me to sleep
the moon wanes dolefully behind pewter clouds
smudging my cheeks, as i forbid the tears from falling

oblivious, uncaring and narcissistic
he sleeps deeply, purged of his angst and…

Anchor

i have been longing for a place
of refuge, from the hypocritical
inhabitants called humans.

i wish for a paradise
where my soul and conscience
could be in unison with nature.

but i couldn’t find one
i gave up looking, turned myself
into my own paradise, my own island.

i am threatened by conflicts
i don’t stay connected
“privacy” is my last name.

i take pride in exercising
freely my own solitude
and my independence.

i fear being needed
my defensiveness
is largely unconscious.

i am often deemed
antisocial
selfish.

who cares, that’s what
an island is suppose
to be; isolated.

i like it that way so far
no fuss, no drama,
no agitation, no uproar

until came along you
i surrendered, took on refuge
held on tight

to you
my much
needed anchor.

for Eugis Weekly Prompt:

https://amanpan.com/2022/05/31/eugis-weekly-prompt-island-may-31-2022/

Reena’s Xploration Challenge #232

Some of you may die, but that’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make.

MISSION

“Some of you may die, but that’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make in the name of almighty God, for a great cause.

”Words reverberated in the big underground room full of unhealthy-looking guys.

Their eyes as if under the influence of drugs, showed no emotions, almost vacant eyes.

Their mentor with well-oiled mane peeping out from the headgear, well-groomed beard, rosy fully nourished skin and checks, eyes full of greed, lust and arrogance, and protruding belly, was looking fully content with life.

He barked again-

“You are the chosen ones by the great almighty to spread his message in this world. You are to eliminate those impudent non-believers of our faith by sacrificing yourself. I understand you have no regret in selecting this path. Your families will be fully compensated. I hope…

In the dark hours
the black pit opens
yawning jaws
have intent grim.

Demons lurk
fingers flexing
yellow-bellied monsters
offer their embrace.

Regrets from the past
fears for the future
groping for every
undefined concern.

Breathe deeply
breathe again
for all will be fine
come the dawn.

~~~~~~~~

Image credit:Muhammed Hassan @ Unsplash
The image shows a woman whose face has black streaks of mascara on her cheeks. She wears a sad expression and has her hands placed on her head.

Written in response to Sadje‘s What Do You See #136 photo prompt