Sorrowed Bangles

-


I have heard defeat arrive

not as thunder-

but like a snake in dry grass,

hissing through slander.

/

When they could not touch my thought,

they reached for my skin,

as crows peck at ripe fruit

they could never grow.

/

My name was held to fire

like thin gold over flame,

tested not for truth

but for how much pain it could carry.

/

I have seen honor hung on women

like glass bangles on trembling wrists-

bright as festival light,

fragile as a lie repeated too long.

/

And when a man stood like a mountain

against the storm of lesser minds,

they did not move the mountain-

they poisoned the river at its feet,

naming his women as weakness.

/

How strange this old world is:

shame circles women

like vultures around harvest fields,

while pride wears a man’s face

but hides in a woman’s wound.

/

I have known insults

that crawled like smoke under doors,

sexual words flung

like mud at a temple wall,

character torn

as dogs worry at burial cloth.

/

But I have learned-

when they strike the body

because they cannot strike the mind,

when they bruise a woman’s name

because her ideas stand taller than theirs,

it is not power speaking.

It is defeat,

bent on its knees,

spitting upward.

/

My bangles have sorrow in them, yes-

they sound sometimes

like rain trapped in broken shells.

But they also remember resistance.

They ring like little circles of iron,

like moons refusing eclipse.

/

So I leave the vile to their echo.

Let them gnaw their own darkness.

Not every wound deserves reply.

/

For some men insult women

the way dying lamps spit smoke-

only in the moment before extinction.

/

And I-

I will wear these sorrowed bangles

not as symbols of shame,

but as small bright revolutions

singing at my wrists.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Heavenly Singer

-
Image
  *************** You stole my sleep like a gentle breeze,   A quiet thief that whispers through trees.   In midnight’s hush, you come and go,   A lost soul no sunlight can show.   ***** They left you in shadows long ago,   In halls where only dark winds blow.   Half alive, caught between night and day,   Living in dreams that drift away.   ***** Yet you- You took my rest without a fight,   And painted skies in my lonely night.   A faint smile grew where sorrow stayed,   You turned my gloom to softer shade.   ***** Your voice, a whisper in the dark,   A fragile light, a tiny spark.   You speak of worlds too loud and bright,   And I wait for you in silent night.   ***** Who are you, that heals my ache?   A ghost or dream, I cannot break.   You say no dawn has called your name,   Just shadows that...
Read more

Where Sin Begins

-
Image
  "Sin begins the moment I abandon what I know is right.” *************** Sin begins the moment I turn away, Not in the fall, but in the sway. No sudden break, no loud descent, Just quiet shifts of small consent. *** A thought I soften, truth I bend, A line I move to ease the end. No witness there, no voice to warn, Yet something fragile comes undone. *** I tell myself it matters less, That ease is peace, that less is rest. But deep within, a knowing stays, Unmoved by all my careful plays. *** For right was never far or dim, It lived within, it spoke within. And every step I chose to stray, Was one I felt-but turned away. *** Yet even here, the path remains, Not lost to time, nor bound in chains. For what I left, I still can find, If I turn back with steady mind. *** Not through shame, nor sudden grace, But quiet truth I choose to face. For sin may start where I depart, But so does healing- in the heart.
Read more

Wheel Within Time

-
Image
Money is the ruler; pen and pencil merely draw the lines. Yet money can erase every scale, while our boxes stay empty. Money, you are like a wheel, I move in you, bound by feel. Without you, I fade to none, Like a shadow without sun. Money, why you love me not? I am poor, by fate forgot. I write dreams in silent night, Yet earn nothing from my light. In rich halls your bright voice rings, Crowns are bought like common things. In poor streets your absence cries, Hope grows thin and slowly dies. I am just a poet bare, With empty hands and heavy care. Words I weave like threads of gold, Yet my hunger stays untold. We both spin like leaves in air, Turned by time with silent care. Some rise high on golden spokes, Some are crushed beneath your yokes. Names and ranks the world assigns, Measured all in coins and signs. Man is weighed by what he owns, Not by heart or silent groans. Still I ask beneath the sky, Must a dreamer live and die? Is my worth in coins alone, Or in seeds of thought I...
Read more

The Last and Only

-
Image
  You think you are the first, loud and shown, But I am the last one and only, alone. I don’t chase crowns or beg to be seen, I walk my path-steady, sharp, and clean. *** No echoes I follow, no shadows I trace, I carve my own ending, I set my own pace. Where others seek glory, I simply endure, Complete in myself-final, certain, and sure.
Read more

The Architect of Scars

-
Image
  The Architect of Scars **** ***** ***** ***** **** The tree does not become shade until a burning sun stands overhead. The stars do not become guides until the night surrenders to darkness. ****  The mountain does not boast of its height until the valley is cast in its shadow. The river does not sing of its strength until it meets the stone that would stop it. ****  We are built of what we have weathered; the glass is forged in the furnace, the diamond is born of the weight that the earth refused to lift. ****  Forgiveness is a word without a voice until the wrong has been done. Patience is a ghost in the hallway until the clock refuses to strike the hour. ****  We look for the sunrise not because dawn is beautiful, but because the cold has settled in our bones. We reach for the hand not because we are weak, but because the path has grown too narrow to walk alone. ****  So let the wind howl against the timber; it is only then the roots learn to grip. Let ...
Read more

A Shattered Stillness

-
Image
In the quiet shadow of a broken heart, Where love once bloomed, the ruins start. A gentle ache, a whispered, lonely cry, A falling tear, my soft and last goodbye. I wander lost through what once was, Searching my soul for its forgotten cause. This pain I carry, a silent, fragile plea, A truth that still, in brokenness, lives free. But this is not the end of my story. From sorrow’s ashes, I will rise renewed. Out of the ruins, new roots take hold, A seed of hope in winter’s cold. For even in despair’s most silent night, I glimpse the promise of morning light. So I embrace the ache, a tender part, Of this long journey, my healing art. From shattered pieces, a new self grows— Truer, gentler, more beautifully whole. With every step, my spirit finds its strength. I am becoming the masterpiece I was meant to be.
Read more

The Path to Your Own Light

-
Image
  In the vast and winding journey of life, There are shadows that can dull your light, Silent pitfalls dressed as friends, Whose presence can turn day to night.   Beware of those who leave when needed most— Their absence is a ghost, a silent ghost, They vanish like mist at dawn’s first glow, Leaving your heart heavy, feeling low.   Trust is a fragile bloom, easily torn— Those who break promises, leave you forlorn, They shatter your faith, betray your trust, Turning bonds into dust, into broken rust.   Smile bright, joy alive—yet some cannot see, Your happiness pains them, sets them free— From envy’s grasp or bitter despair, Their hearts are closed, their minds unfair.   Negative words like arrows fly— They pierce your spirit, make you cry, These voices pull you back, hold you down— Turning your crown into a thorny crown.   Support is a gift, a gentle hand— Those who abandon, who fail to stand— Leave you to struggle, to face the stor...
Read more

The Voice of Creation

-
Image
  I was born in silence, before time’s first flame, A ripple unchained, with no master, no name. From the womb of stars, I broke the void, A thunder of being the dark employed. I am the pulse of galaxies wide, The roaring breath where comets glide. Across the planets, I carve my song, A force eternal, fierce and strong. I strike with the fury of suns that die, I ride on the wings of a newborn sky. Supernovae herald my flight, I am the anthem of endless night. Through nebula veils and cosmic streams, I shake the fabric of timeless dreams. The universe trembles at my command, Yet I slip unseen through matter and sand. I am the echo that never ends, The sound of beginnings, the arc that bends. In every star, in every flame, The cosmos remembers my hidden name. I am the blast, the storm, the fire, The voice of creation, raw desire. Forever I move, forever I sing, The boundless breath of everything. I am destruction, fierce and wild, Yet mercy too, both wrath and child. I tear, I heal, ...
Read more

The Quiet After the Bugle

-
Image
The evening fades and quiet fills the room with shade. An empty chair still waits beside the silent door. Soft sunbeams wander slowly through the dusty air, Touching the walls where echoes of his laughter live. A weathered frame still guards the memory of his smile, Unchanged by years and unseen tears she keeps inside. They said he marched with courage bright beneath the flag; Now folded colors rest above his quiet grave. The bugle called across a sky too wide for grief, And pride and sorrow tangled deep within her hands. Morning arrives with gentler steps than once before; His boots no longer stand in patience by the door. The kettle sings a lonely song for only one, While two small voices call her name with hopeful eyes. She braids their hair and mends the seams of growing days, And reads again the letters softened by her tears. “Soon I’ll return,” the final fading promise says- A line that time has left unanswered in the blue. Each year she walks among the rows of silent stone And l...
Read more