TW: This poem features sensitive subjects including drink spiking.
I would love some feedback on the poems, especially about how it works rhythmically and grammatically. Please note, I am aware some letters are randomly capitalised, I don't know why it has done this!
Lost in the Woods
She walked, with jingling keys clutched to her side.
With a racing heart, sweating palms and a swelling in her throat.
She stumbled through the streets as they distorted,
as they twisted and contorted.
......
forced to stay in a place I did not choose
because of circumstance
and other extraneous factors
so I live where I must die
an island surrounded by sea and sky
a home to me but only a house to many
does fate make the good ones run away
sail away on their boats
......
coming of age they say
is a transformation
from a bud to a blossom
but it can also be taken
snatched
swallowed by a hole in the ground
and i fell into its depths
to join the land of the dead
......
the cellar
would keep me away
from man’s ugly gaze
thought my father
but no lock or latch
no bolt or vault
could keep away light
and into my prison a golden rain poured
through a slit in the ceiling
......
She wasn't the same anymore, she'd never be again,
Young fires blazing, lit with the exuberance of youth,
Making her own definition, shaping the word,
She lived her life, no struggling to fit inside,
No cookie cutter sizes, not feeling anxious whether she fit or not,
Beauty radiating in the uniqueness of her self,
Defining herself, her ways to be,
And words? They were her slaves, not masters.
Not taking what was given to her,
......
TW: This poem features sensitive subjects including drink spiking.
I would love some feedback on the poems, especially about how it works rhythmically and grammatically. Please note, I am aware some letters are randomly capitalised, I don't know why it has done this!
Lost in the Woods
She walked, with jingling keys clutched to her side.
With a racing heart, sweating palms and a swelling in her throat.
She stumbled through the streets as they distorted,
as they twisted and contorted.
......
It's not like a rush of waves
Like I've read in those books
The innocent idyllic lies
Of fountain wishes and
Written dreams and
Patriarchal fantasies
All in illustration
Illusions? Delusions?
All the same
......
Soy Mujer
Soy Mujer con brazos fuertes
Con caderas que pueden crear vida
Con nariz de mi papá
Con labios de mi mami
Con cachetes que enseñan salud
Con arrugas de Felicidad y Vida ... Mi Vida
Con las palabras de ellos...
......
You don’t want a woman but a lanky-limbed foal,
New, and still slick with her mother’s warmth,
A body trimmed with lace that smells of apple juice and spit,
Sensual, and fertile, and unmarked by blood.
You don’t want a woman but pigtails and ribbon,
Easy to pull, and to run through eager fingers,
Her hand grips your thigh while you croon some old hymn,
......
तू कब तक यूँ सहेगी
तू कब तक यूँ सहेगी
तू कब तक यूँ चुप रहेगी
तू कब तक अपने आपको रोकेगी
तू कब तक यूँ सहेगी।
किसी का तुझको यूँ नीचा दिखाना
किसी का तुझपर यूँ हाथ उठाना
किसी का तुझे यूँ चुप करवाना
तू कब तक यूँ सहेगी।
......