EMERGING FEMINISMS, the weird poet’s ramblings

By Sumayyah Malik

 

“A tribute to weirdom”

 

i’m going to spread
the primrose smell off myself,
and will sprout today, like
Jack’s beanstalk that spells herself weird:

weirdom waxed my womb
as a kid,
it ringed wonder up
in my waist and
weaved me
as a woman.

i’m an imagery
              of an inclusive “i”
              interpreted often
              as an immoral idiom
              but shit, incidentally
i’m an itch
              of intelligence
              in your brain.

everytime, i act like
an essential enzyme
and enter into your
canonical exoskeleton,
exothermic reactions occur
inside you, yes, i’m
your emotional entropy.

              you rear my ribs
              as sacred, only
              for reproduction,
              damn, they clog
your respiratory
              tract as
              rebellious rhizomes
              branch inside
              you.

Beware! i’m a drugged
pollen of weirdom,
debuting in cross-pollination
with versification.
i’m a daring siren
of your deepest
analogy: weird.

*****

“An open letter to sisterhood”

 

For a woman whose heart melts like mine:

I know how judgmental arms carve you as a wonder woman
by measuring the oceans in your eyes.
Soak like a proud mermaid into the saltiness of your oceans
and let those arms doubt your saltiness.

I know how attention-seeking eyes
tattoo your heart
with the negative idioms of emotions.
Wear your emotions around your neck like a coke
that’ll choke life out of those disturbing eyes.

I know how you feel nakedly alone in the desert
of expectations,
when the serpents coil your mind.
Massage your head and braid those serpents within your hair,
that’ll give you a quirky brave look.

I know how locked up life is, as a snow child
in an icy closet,
when the silence crawls up your fingers making them boneless.
Squeeze and shake the words hidden in them,

it’ll give a skeleton to your fingers.

I know how much of sheer gold,
your heart is
Keep your heart close to your mouth
Because baby, your heart is not a gold plated medal
It melts like mine.

---

Sumayyah Malik is a 22-year-old girl whose fingers are busy all the time knitting words. She is currently enrolled in International Islamic University and doing her graduation in English Literature Majors from Islamabad, Pakistan. She loves to travel and write cut-throat rebellious poetry in a subtle manner. Her poetry attacks social issues and talks about feminism in her own metaphoric way. Recently, she has completed an online poetry workshop with Desi Writer’s Lounge. Her work has been published by Pankhearst Publications, Eastlit Magazine, US Magazine-The News and Uut Poetry Magazine. She traces the clouds of existence in every line that she writes.