Poems of Essence: Life, Love & Pain

Devoted to the ultimate love. I realised that us warriors all need senseis. Something to help guide our minds, our souls and not just swordplay. Planting seeds to nurture our minds, but we need to find our teachers. I mean words that flow truth, not just scripture preachers. Be that a father, a mother, a friend or my Gurus. A love that will resurrect me for the ashes, help me heal my bruises. Pain is only as real as you let be. Pain only lasts as long as you let it feed. Wrap around you like weeds, suffocating, ill hating.

You were never broken, you had just melted from all the fire, hurt and humidity. You have made me such a powerful force to be reckoned with. We are all on a journey to find whatever brings us peace. Till we find out ease. Till we grow wings from our spines that let us sore into electric skies with wider eyes, till we reach those higher realms. I know I am here to do great things. Love to be showered. But, now I understand that before I can concur I have to piece by piece try to piece together the pieces to find my peace.

That year that led our soil to be rich with tears. And as it appears, the judgment has been made. Musulman there, Hindu-stan here and Sikhs, well, they can go anywhere? Forget your forefathers son, what defines them means nothing now. What is done is done. You can watch the setting of the sun from your side, behind your line. Put down your shotgun, leave it there with your zameen.

Fourteen million uprooted from their homes. Uprooted like roots of a tree, ripped out of the soil that they belong to. Son, let go from that embrace. You can watch the kites soar from the your side, behind your line. Like a pill, drugging us with opium until we are too blind to see our worth. And here we are crying for a rebirth, a change. We used to love our Muslim - Hindu - Sikh neighbour, treated them like our sister and brother.

A corpse filled train? Now tell me, how will I explain that the dead were refrained from being cremated? Yet three are exclusively there, two are here. Tell me how is that fair? Whilst you sit there at the border every day at sunset and you cheer. Two parts of the land stretch out their thirsty hands, and whilst for some their patriotism expands, others are desperately trying to let go of their homelands. Border border, bringing some world order? Losing more than three quarters, burn down those borders.

This was mass movement. Listen closely my dear, give me your ear. The blood is still spilling in the soil of Kashmir. Awake from this life of so called freedom and independence or continue to sleep into a nightmare. I am raising my voice so all the forgotten voices can be heard. And yes, I am her story that as been forgotten from the histories.

These historical women treated as if they were mysteries. I am more than every response being an apology. I am every lioness ripping through stereotypes attached to our gender. I am the feminist agenda, the so called burned bras, the lack of female main role movie stars. I am all the thoughts from the girls in my gender studies seminars. I am the women chained to railings for our vote. I am every hunger strike guarding their throats. I am Ms McCarthy teaching me I could achieve anything. I am the female warriors - Mao Bhago, Boudicca - that could defeat any King.

I am my trainers who said I have a mean left hook. I am every woman left out of my school textbooks. I am feminisms waves one, two and three. I am the women ignored in science and technology. I am the men that see that their engagement is vital. I am the women that refuse to stick to one label or title. I am you, her, him, I am genderless. I am the women who have to try harder at work to impress. I am every skin colour that essentialist feminism has ignored. I am the women that smashed the glass ceiling and soared.

I am the governments gender ratios that remain flawed. I am all de bouvoirs essays. I am my father, who said I am the same as my brothers. I am my ancestors, my sister, my grandmothers, I am my mother. I am the women that are making noise with what they write. I am the ongoing silent power struggle, the ongoing fight. Oh my little love, what can I say?

I wish I could tell you about days that were genuinely okay. We stained those pages as our brothers and sisters would bleed. Men with misinterpretations claiming their thoughts would rule. Whilst these children would fear that nightmares would thunder through those doors with their bullets.

Ricocheting through their skin like waves in a flood. Their school shirts pierced. Their schoolbooks covered with young blood. Ever screen I saw - Bring back our girls. Bring back our girls! Our concerns were no longer sending. Our empathy was no longer extending. These means were adopted by brave men in India, Thailand and in the West. They remained posted on their pedestals, and like blind mice, we trusted. I close my eyes and see libraries stacked with shelves of history books blackened with blood. Us bystanders will be the ones to blame.

Our children will search for heroes and to us they shall look, but all we will do is hand them stained red books. They said you were suitable. That it was time for me to settle down and simply not resist. Your family is respectful, they said. Reputable, and that I should ready my red lengha, as I lost my face in lights and cameras and listened to the laavaan. Were you not listening? One soul in two bodies? So why would you belittle me and bruise me black and blue till my brain burns through my brown eyes and I bleed, bathing in the bathroom trying to wash away the pain.

You sipped on sharab till you could no longer see me. But I found the darkness of the devil in you. You destroyed our marriage, whilst you disguised yourself in your suit and tie, and visited her and her and her from the other night. You were too much of a fool to feel fear. You keep eating to feel full and drinking to get drunk but will you ever be satisfied? Surely, your sick mind will somehow stop those sleazy encounters. What happened to monogamy?

I found out that one was a teen, thirteen or fourteen? Did you strike fear in her too? Telling her this is what all adults do. You say work kept you late. You are bringing home the big bucks, so I should shut up. Breadwinner, would you like a side of battered bride with that? All I surrendered was my sanity and my serenity. My inner peace was pulled out of me along with my plaited hair, as you gripped a handful and smashed my skull into the side of the kitchen worktop, whispering wicked words, whilst I was wishing that I were dead.

But I did nothing wrong…. It seems I lost every round. We were fighting a battle where I was unarmed. You came with swords and bullets to bear through my chest. All I had was closed eyes and clenched fists. This was our marriage, our four laavaan. I had written this poem earlier this year after having a few conversations with some Singhs about the difficulties they faced with their appearance whilst they were growing up. They found themselves surrounded by images from the Western media and cultural pressures which defined their standards of beauty through clean-shaven men and short hair.

So I wrote this poem so that we can all feel beautiful. We shall run wild and free in the savanna. Hunt for our dreams together.

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We shall change the world. So why call her bad? From her, kings are born. I can stand here with my kesh down my back and my kara on my hand because my father and my mother said I am same as my brothers.

That is almost the population of our land here. Fear of an unbalanced gender-ratio, resulting in a hyper masculine Indian society. More extortion, distortion, more disproportion. Within there, I could only see warmth, strength and love. Within those walls I felt pure protection.

And upon reflection, I can not thank you enough for the affection, direction, love and perfection. You provided selfless love for a creature that did not even exist. With a breaking back, swollen knees and a bursting bladder.. Right up until delivery day. I will never resent you for not providing me with your milk. They attached stigma to a natural process that was a beautiful as silk. Milk that could fight infections and perhaps even an iq enhancer, super stem cells and cells that fight cancer. You had to give me powder in a bottle, but you gave me things a thousand times better.

You gave me power. You gave me strength. You showed me that a woman was nothing but formidable. You gave me wisdom. You gave me sense. So I learnt that a woman should never depend on her looks. For those nine months that you sheltered me.

For those two hundred and seventy four days. For those six thousand, five hundred and seventy four hours. For every minute since.. My admiration for you can do nothing but bloom. Because you did nothing but love me since you felt me in your womb. Fingertips I'm squeezing the tips of my fingertips just to confirm that this is real.

Chameleon I hide my east london accent neatly under my tongue when they need me to be fancy. I'm torn, Between tucking my blouse into my high waisted skirt and hiding my converses under my bed. Because they said, If I pretend that my first home wasn't on top of a corner shop, Then maybe I'll get the job.

We didn't know the lingo. Baaz Only the sun knew what was about to happen as the clouds cloaked the sky, He watched them gather from the corner of his eye. If a poet loves you. End of the Tunnel. The Moment The moment you realise that true contentment can be found when you serve others, all other desires will seem so small. Victima Did you know that the word victim came from the Latin word, victima - meaning sacrificial animal.

So I say hey what now makes it so cool? For once can we not pretend? Finding Peace Piece by piece I try to piece together the pieces to find my peace. Va-he-guru… I let those sounds vibrate through me, shaking off the pain with the roar of your name. I mean… Planting seeds to nurture our minds, but we need to find our teachers.

You made shaking numb hands become swords of steel. What do you mean fourteen? This was meant for our own good. A thought when I wake up and my energy for the rest of the day. Every warm sip I take touches my soul. It ignites a spark that keeps me going. Before I fall asleep, all I can think about is how I get to drink you in again, and taste your warm touch that soothes my body.

As the sunset-colored sky fades and the stars sprinkle the heavens, the moon peaks out to take a look at the wonderful sight it sees. It casts a faint light over the earth as it moves to comfort the dark. Its glow reflects on the water and illuminates the streets and cities. It balances the contrasts it makes so that there will be no absence of light and no consuming darkness.

But as dawn arrives, the moon will disappear into the light fading into white, gray, then blue. I sleep every morning to let sun shine. He loves me, he loves me not. These petals falling are soon to rot. But as I circle this flower delicate and sweet.

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I hope I pick the one which tells me you love me. The coldness of winter would turn my nose red. It made my cheeks burn, it made me blush he said. Your eyes were like galaxies big, dark and round. I have made some discoveries, some still waiting to be found. In another dimension, we might not be the ones. Waves in the ocean, clashing waters. Fish in the sea chasing rivers. Fire from a match barely flickers. You and I the best of lovers. We were quiet for quite some time. The dead silence was a perfect time to realize I was yours and you were mine. Before you, I was clay. But you molded me into the person I am today.

Standing here with beauty and grace. Before you, I was a blank canvas. No lines, no shades, no hues. But when you came along you turned my whites into yellows, greens and blues. A needle and thread were partners in crime. I straighten your tie as you take in my dress. I apply my make up with only you to impress. Last night was amazing laying under the stars. As we lay there gazing looking for Mars. I was looking at the sky but you were staring at me. The freckles across my face resembled constellations we could see.

You traced them with your finger naming the ones you knew. You saw the Big Dipper and even the little one too. Our bare skin reminds me of every touch. Your hand in mine reminds me of how you held me. Your lips on my shoulder reminds me of every kiss. Your words and whispers remind me of every promise and praise. The look in your eyes show all you have to say. Pull back your bow and aim at his heart. Fire your arrow and watch the magic start. But every day and night they watched the stars and the moon. The twisting and twirling around the misty air Your hands on my face tangling in my hair.

The way we kissed under the pouring rain, The sway when we danced to wash away all the pain. Burger and fries cookies and milk Stars and the skies satin and silk Birds and the trees Apple and pie Flowers and bees You and I. With your head on my lap and my fingers in your hair, the sun right behind me as you watch and you stare.

Roses are red Violets are blue You show me each day why your love is true. Red cape, firm chest strong arms one quest. To save the day and cause no stress To fly the world in search for the damsel in distress. To travel around the world is what I crave to do. To go to Paris, New York, and even Peru. Something spontaneous, something exciting, something bold and grand. I write to read and read to write. What a life this is pens and papers in sight. A laptop to type A pen to write all my experiences through day and night.

Summer is my favorite time of the year. The sand in my toes and the wind my hair, The smell of salt breezing through the air. The bonfires, the marshmallows, the camping out. No virtuous act is quite as virtuous from the standpoint of our friend or foe as it is from our standpoint.

Therefore we must be saved by the final form of love which is forgiveness. Unknown There's a dark and a troubled side of life. Tho' we meet with the darkness and strife The sunny side we also may view. Keep on the sunny side, always on the sunny side, Keep on the sunny side of life. It will help us ev'ry day, it will brighten all the way If we'll keep on the sunny side of life.

The storm and its fury broke today, Crushing hopes that we cherish so dear; Clouds and storms will, in time, pass away. The sun again will shine bright and clear. Let us greet with the song of hope each day Tho' the moment be cloudy or fair. Let us trust in our Saviour away Who keepeth everyone in His care. No matter what is going on Hope can let us look forward to the new dawn. The saying "this too shall pass" Gives us hope in mass. Life is full of ups and downs We must keep hope and not frown. Hope for better days Is a good prayer to pray.

Focus on your blessings Don't just sit and be stressing. Never lose your hope Hoping and action lets you cope.

Having hope helps live move on By focusing on the good, your problems will be gone. We're given to believe that we'll be here forever, We have the means to make our lives sublime. We treat the earth as though we were its maker, We disregard rules to help keep it pure. Why have we turned so selfish? Why is it we destroy? The very essence of what gives us life. Don't we see tomorrow is part of today's great plan? We need to change our ways of greed and strife. God made us protectors to sow and plough the fields, To reap the harvest and prepare to share, Not to think we are owners, or that we might have the power, But to show unto others that we care.

If we destroy the planet because of our of our neglect, If we cause damage that we can't repair, In future generations the blame will fall on us, The damage done will drive us to despair. Wake up and test the waters; there may still be a way, To turn the tide that seems to swing uphill. Take stock of your perspectives; think not where you've gone wrong, And fight the battle with your might and will. Perhaps there's still an answer, an avenue of hope, It could be that you'll turn this thing around.

The project is worth trying, you must do all you can; Who knows, through you an answer may be found. Don't Give Up Poet: Salvation is instant, but growing is not; The way can be steep, hard to climb. Instant solutions don't often occur, The lessons of life must be borne. The purging fire that strengthens the soul May leave you tattered and torn. Your tears might flow, your heart distressed, You feel you cannot hold on.

It's then that prayer connects to the faith When you felt that all hope was gone. God never leaves His child alone, God never walks away. He knows your needs before you ask, He always hears when you pray. Don't give up if you can't see His answer right away, But trust the fact that God is there, Alongside you every day.

And yet, my creditors demand, accounting every day.