As I sit here
Wrapped in my blanket
Trying desperately
To ward off the cold
As it pushes violently
To take me over
From within
As the dark whole
Of knowledge
Of what I’ve done
Aims to consume me
For my sins
I can beg for nothing
But your forgiveness
Even as I know
The fault is not mine alone
Sunday, December 18, 2011
Monday, December 5, 2011
You Don't Get To Have Me
You don’t get to have me
You don’t even know me
I’m stronger than you think
You should have waited
Before you decided
That you couldn’t give me
The benefit of the doubt
You should have waited
Until you really knew
Who it is that I really am
Before you decided
I wasn’t strong enough
Yes, I have a past
But did you know
That I survived it
Do you know
How it is I came to stand here
Did you ever consider
Go on, go your own way
I won’t ask you to stay
Just know that you don’t know
Who it was that I was
And you don’t get to know
Who I am, who I will become
You don’t get to have me
I am stronger than that
Stronger than
You will ever get to know
The risk was mine to take
The jump was mine to make
I made it by choice
You don’t get to have
Any of it or me
You don’t even know me
I’m stronger than you think
You should have waited
Before you decided
That you couldn’t give me
The benefit of the doubt
You should have waited
Until you really knew
Who it is that I really am
Before you decided
I wasn’t strong enough
Yes, I have a past
But did you know
That I survived it
Do you know
How it is I came to stand here
Did you ever consider
Go on, go your own way
I won’t ask you to stay
Just know that you don’t know
Who it was that I was
And you don’t get to know
Who I am, who I will become
You don’t get to have me
I am stronger than that
Stronger than
You will ever get to know
The risk was mine to take
The jump was mine to make
I made it by choice
You don’t get to have
Any of it or me
Tuesday, October 11, 2011
Tease
You’re such a tease
And it tickles.
A lite, sweet joy
A scented breeze.
The moon is as fickle
As the words you employ.
The smile on my face
A sparkle in your eyes.
Finger that caress
As gentle as lace.
Reducing me to sighs
And leaving me to guess.
Lips I long to kiss
Waiting I cannot bear.
A twinkling light
Don’t blink and miss.
One moment there
And then you’re out of sight.
And it tickles.
A lite, sweet joy
A scented breeze.
The moon is as fickle
As the words you employ.
The smile on my face
A sparkle in your eyes.
Finger that caress
As gentle as lace.
Reducing me to sighs
And leaving me to guess.
Lips I long to kiss
Waiting I cannot bear.
A twinkling light
Don’t blink and miss.
One moment there
And then you’re out of sight.
Friday, October 7, 2011
Four Letters
A single word whispered, then said
Four letters never had so much control
All thoughts have now been shed
To move the mind to hear repeated
Again and again just that one word
The body of blood becomes heated
Hands now engender an emergency
Pulling closer and sliding away
Lips search over skin in urgency
Breathing becomes shallow breaths
Waves of anticipation within
Causing a shudder through my chest
Two bodies move to mold as one
Filling every empty space between
Oh, wishes to stop the coming of the sun
Moving body, soul, mountains and moon
Release comes in a shiver of ecstasy
And then two as one will swoon
Four letters never had so much control
All thoughts have now been shed
To move the mind to hear repeated
Again and again just that one word
The body of blood becomes heated
Hands now engender an emergency
Pulling closer and sliding away
Lips search over skin in urgency
Breathing becomes shallow breaths
Waves of anticipation within
Causing a shudder through my chest
Two bodies move to mold as one
Filling every empty space between
Oh, wishes to stop the coming of the sun
Moving body, soul, mountains and moon
Release comes in a shiver of ecstasy
And then two as one will swoon
Monday, October 3, 2011
Be Quiet!
Yesterday, my parents and I went to visit some extended family. While there, the men sat on one side of the living room, talking about the politics of their (our?) native country. On the other side of the living room, I sat with my mother, my aunt and my cousin (the only other woman there). To make conversation, my aunt asked me what I'm studying in school. Naturally, I answered by telling her that I am in my senior year of Undergrad, double majoring in Literature and Women's Studies; and that I intend to do my Master's in Women's Literature. My aunt comes from a briefly educated background, so she asked me to explain what that meant in detail.
I thought she was asking what I meant when I said that I wanted to do my Master's in Women's Literature, but then she specified that she did not understand what it meant to be studying Women's Studies. So we began to converse about what it meant to be studying Women's Studies. I told her about how we studied the history of societies all over the world, and how most of them have evolved patriarchally. How women are second class citizens in most societies around the world. About how so much is expected of women and how little is given to them (not talking about material things here). As I explained these things to her in detail, she understood what I was studying and the intent.
As we continued to discuss the conditions of women around the world, we were interrupted by my uncle. His interruption was to insert into our conversation his opinion that if it is deemed within the Quran (if you haven't figured it out yet, our family is one of devote Muslims) that men are entitled to more than women are entitled to, then that is the way the world is meant to be and we have no right to want something different.
Here is where the evening made a downwards turn. You see, coming from a Pakistani, and therefore Muslim background, my uncle expects that he is allowed to interrupt any conversation at any given moment, regardless of the fact that he may or may not actually knows what is being discussed, and intercede his own opinion as though it is fact; as this behavior is the accepted behavior in our culture in the favor of men.
But, wait, the best part (sarcasm) of the evening hasn't even begun yet. I, being the young and headstrong opinionated woman that I am, immediately stated two things to him, outright: 1) That, as he has not been following our discussion from the beginning, he does not know the points of the discussion well enough to intercede an opinion that is valid to this discussion. 1) That the whole world does not function under the rules of Islam; that there is a difference between what is 'ordained' or 'decreed' by God or his Prophets and how mankind chooses to behave.
Immediately after I stated these two statement to my uncle out loud and in front of everyone, my aunt's hand flew up to cover my mouth and my mother actually said, "Sofie! Be quiet!". THAT, my friends, was the most important part of the evening. Removing my aunt's hand from my mouth and shooting my mother a look that said "don't you dare," I asked out-right: did I say something wrong?
But, you see, in everyone there's opinion, I did say something wrong. Not only did I publicly talk back to my uncle, which is supposedly disrespectful, but I also stated to everyone that Islamic law isn't fair. Strict and out-right blasphemy, in their opinion.
After a moment of shock from everyone, my uncle said, "it doesn't matter what you think; what the Quran says is correct." To which I replied, "it's quite easy for a man to say that the law of the Quran is the only way things should be, for the Quran's laws favor men over women. But if you had to live even one day as a woman, you would never say so easily that there is no need for adjustment."
The women there did not disagree with me that Islam gave them less of a voice, nor that it was unbalanced; but the women there would also NEVER have the gall to say such things out loud, their culture and their religion forbade it. After more gasps of shock, more silence and more anger, my uncle and I went back and forth with these kinds of statements.
Then, one of my male cousins said the most stereotypical thing a man can say to a woman. His statement: women say they want equality, they want to same respect and work as a man, they say they want to be president; but when they need a heavy box lifted, they ask a man to do it.
Oh, yes, that was his oh-so-original anti-feminist argument. And I can already see so many of you ladies, my fellow feminists, laughing and shaking your heads at his pathetic statement.
To which I answered: 1) Not ALL women need men to lift their boxes for them. 2) It's never happened, has it, that a man ever had to ask another man to help him lift a heavy box? 3) Of course, boxes can only ever be to heavy for women to lift, right? 4) Because, of course, no box has ever been too heavy for any one man to lift.
To which he replied: No, of course men have asked men to help them carry heavy boxes.
To which I replied: So, if it is ok for a man to ask another man to help him carry a heavy box, why is it not ok for a woman to ask a man, or even another woman, to help her carry a heavy box?
At which point my father declared that we should get going. So, everyone pretended that nothing unpleasant had occurred this evening; we all hugged, smiled and waved our good-byes.
But it wasn't over for me yet. I was simmering, and not because of the statements being said back and forth, but because of one particular moment of the evening. And it just so happens that my mother was simmering about the same thing: the moment when she told me to "be quiet!"
After a few minutes of driving in silence, my mother said to me, "Sofie, you shouldn't have said those things!"
To which I replied, angrily and with lightening speed: WHY NOT!! Did I say something wrong?! And you know I hate it when you tell me to 'be quiet'!
To which she responded, just as angrily: Yes, you said everything wrong! And you were disrespectful! What will everyone think now? Now everyone will say you are disrespectful, and that you are a bad person, and the you are a bad influence, and they will tell everyone they know about these things and then everyone will think lowly of you!
To which I responded: I don't care what any of them think about me! They cannot decide who I am! They can't make me into what they want! Only I can be who I am! And Who cares if they like me or not! Who cares if they think I'm a horrible person! They are not the ones who have to live my life! I am the one who has to live my life! I am the one who is responsible for me! AND I WILL NOT SIT BACK AND HOLD MY TONGUE WHEN SOMEONE TRIES TO TELL ME TO SHUT UP AND BE A 'GOOD LITTLE GIRL'!
To which she replied: So you want to spend your who life fighting with people? You want to spend your life having people thing you are disrespectful!
To which I responded: Mom, I am not afraid to fight for what I believe in! If fighting is the only way that I can get someone to let me be free, then, yes, I will fight with everyone! I will fight the whole world if that is what it takes to be able to think for myself! And I could care less if people think I'm disrespectful for speaking my mind. I know that they are wrong, I know that they are afraid that their hierarchy will be toppled; that is all! I will not be silent just because they are afraid to give up their power in the name of progress!
To which she responded: Then you will spend your whole life fighting!
To which I responded: It will be better than dying in silence! I, for one, am not afraid to fight for what I believe in. And don't you ever tell me to "be quiet" again! All my life, ever since I was a little girl, you have been telling me to "be quiet," and I have told you a million times over to stop that!
To which she respond: That's because you have been speaking out in disrespect all your life! I don't know what I'm going to do with you!
To which I responded: All my life, why couldn't you support me? All I ever wanted was for people to stop telling me how to behave and how to think! God gave me life so that I could live it! Not so that other people could live it for me! And as for fighting, what is the point of life if you are not willing to fight for it? All I ever wanted was to be free! Why couldn't you ever tell me to fight for that instead of telling me to "be quiet" all my life?
After which she remained quiet (but angry, I could tell), and we drove the rest of the way home in silence. But I couldn't stop replaying the whole evening in my head. And I've come to a few conclusions:
1) God gave you life so that you can live it.
2) No one can live your life but you.
3) This world wants nothing less than to tear you down. So, don't spend your life trying to appease it. Be your own person, live your own life.
4) Never be afraid to speak your mind, regardless of who you are supposedly offending.
5) I will NEVER ever stop fight this world until it gives me what is rightly mine; my freedom, in each and every way.
I thought she was asking what I meant when I said that I wanted to do my Master's in Women's Literature, but then she specified that she did not understand what it meant to be studying Women's Studies. So we began to converse about what it meant to be studying Women's Studies. I told her about how we studied the history of societies all over the world, and how most of them have evolved patriarchally. How women are second class citizens in most societies around the world. About how so much is expected of women and how little is given to them (not talking about material things here). As I explained these things to her in detail, she understood what I was studying and the intent.
As we continued to discuss the conditions of women around the world, we were interrupted by my uncle. His interruption was to insert into our conversation his opinion that if it is deemed within the Quran (if you haven't figured it out yet, our family is one of devote Muslims) that men are entitled to more than women are entitled to, then that is the way the world is meant to be and we have no right to want something different.
Here is where the evening made a downwards turn. You see, coming from a Pakistani, and therefore Muslim background, my uncle expects that he is allowed to interrupt any conversation at any given moment, regardless of the fact that he may or may not actually knows what is being discussed, and intercede his own opinion as though it is fact; as this behavior is the accepted behavior in our culture in the favor of men.
But, wait, the best part (sarcasm) of the evening hasn't even begun yet. I, being the young and headstrong opinionated woman that I am, immediately stated two things to him, outright: 1) That, as he has not been following our discussion from the beginning, he does not know the points of the discussion well enough to intercede an opinion that is valid to this discussion. 1) That the whole world does not function under the rules of Islam; that there is a difference between what is 'ordained' or 'decreed' by God or his Prophets and how mankind chooses to behave.
Immediately after I stated these two statement to my uncle out loud and in front of everyone, my aunt's hand flew up to cover my mouth and my mother actually said, "Sofie! Be quiet!". THAT, my friends, was the most important part of the evening. Removing my aunt's hand from my mouth and shooting my mother a look that said "don't you dare," I asked out-right: did I say something wrong?
But, you see, in everyone there's opinion, I did say something wrong. Not only did I publicly talk back to my uncle, which is supposedly disrespectful, but I also stated to everyone that Islamic law isn't fair. Strict and out-right blasphemy, in their opinion.
After a moment of shock from everyone, my uncle said, "it doesn't matter what you think; what the Quran says is correct." To which I replied, "it's quite easy for a man to say that the law of the Quran is the only way things should be, for the Quran's laws favor men over women. But if you had to live even one day as a woman, you would never say so easily that there is no need for adjustment."
The women there did not disagree with me that Islam gave them less of a voice, nor that it was unbalanced; but the women there would also NEVER have the gall to say such things out loud, their culture and their religion forbade it. After more gasps of shock, more silence and more anger, my uncle and I went back and forth with these kinds of statements.
Then, one of my male cousins said the most stereotypical thing a man can say to a woman. His statement: women say they want equality, they want to same respect and work as a man, they say they want to be president; but when they need a heavy box lifted, they ask a man to do it.
Oh, yes, that was his oh-so-original anti-feminist argument. And I can already see so many of you ladies, my fellow feminists, laughing and shaking your heads at his pathetic statement.
To which I answered: 1) Not ALL women need men to lift their boxes for them. 2) It's never happened, has it, that a man ever had to ask another man to help him lift a heavy box? 3) Of course, boxes can only ever be to heavy for women to lift, right? 4) Because, of course, no box has ever been too heavy for any one man to lift.
To which he replied: No, of course men have asked men to help them carry heavy boxes.
To which I replied: So, if it is ok for a man to ask another man to help him carry a heavy box, why is it not ok for a woman to ask a man, or even another woman, to help her carry a heavy box?
At which point my father declared that we should get going. So, everyone pretended that nothing unpleasant had occurred this evening; we all hugged, smiled and waved our good-byes.
But it wasn't over for me yet. I was simmering, and not because of the statements being said back and forth, but because of one particular moment of the evening. And it just so happens that my mother was simmering about the same thing: the moment when she told me to "be quiet!"
After a few minutes of driving in silence, my mother said to me, "Sofie, you shouldn't have said those things!"
To which I replied, angrily and with lightening speed: WHY NOT!! Did I say something wrong?! And you know I hate it when you tell me to 'be quiet'!
To which she responded, just as angrily: Yes, you said everything wrong! And you were disrespectful! What will everyone think now? Now everyone will say you are disrespectful, and that you are a bad person, and the you are a bad influence, and they will tell everyone they know about these things and then everyone will think lowly of you!
To which I responded: I don't care what any of them think about me! They cannot decide who I am! They can't make me into what they want! Only I can be who I am! And Who cares if they like me or not! Who cares if they think I'm a horrible person! They are not the ones who have to live my life! I am the one who has to live my life! I am the one who is responsible for me! AND I WILL NOT SIT BACK AND HOLD MY TONGUE WHEN SOMEONE TRIES TO TELL ME TO SHUT UP AND BE A 'GOOD LITTLE GIRL'!
To which she replied: So you want to spend your who life fighting with people? You want to spend your life having people thing you are disrespectful!
To which I responded: Mom, I am not afraid to fight for what I believe in! If fighting is the only way that I can get someone to let me be free, then, yes, I will fight with everyone! I will fight the whole world if that is what it takes to be able to think for myself! And I could care less if people think I'm disrespectful for speaking my mind. I know that they are wrong, I know that they are afraid that their hierarchy will be toppled; that is all! I will not be silent just because they are afraid to give up their power in the name of progress!
To which she responded: Then you will spend your whole life fighting!
To which I responded: It will be better than dying in silence! I, for one, am not afraid to fight for what I believe in. And don't you ever tell me to "be quiet" again! All my life, ever since I was a little girl, you have been telling me to "be quiet," and I have told you a million times over to stop that!
To which she respond: That's because you have been speaking out in disrespect all your life! I don't know what I'm going to do with you!
To which I responded: All my life, why couldn't you support me? All I ever wanted was for people to stop telling me how to behave and how to think! God gave me life so that I could live it! Not so that other people could live it for me! And as for fighting, what is the point of life if you are not willing to fight for it? All I ever wanted was to be free! Why couldn't you ever tell me to fight for that instead of telling me to "be quiet" all my life?
After which she remained quiet (but angry, I could tell), and we drove the rest of the way home in silence. But I couldn't stop replaying the whole evening in my head. And I've come to a few conclusions:
1) God gave you life so that you can live it.
2) No one can live your life but you.
3) This world wants nothing less than to tear you down. So, don't spend your life trying to appease it. Be your own person, live your own life.
4) Never be afraid to speak your mind, regardless of who you are supposedly offending.
5) I will NEVER ever stop fight this world until it gives me what is rightly mine; my freedom, in each and every way.
Thursday, September 29, 2011
Distress
Everywhere you turn, there is stillness
Time is ticking away the distress
The only sound is the voice in your head
Rolling over words you should have said
Suffocating slowly in the heavy air
Eyes cast off in hollow, empty stares
Anchor heavy are two idle hands
As the darkness of the night expands
Waiting, watching, watching and waiting
Searching for anything that is placating
Wondering when the night will pass
Desperate for the sun to break through the glass
Time is ticking away the distress
The only sound is the voice in your head
Rolling over words you should have said
Suffocating slowly in the heavy air
Eyes cast off in hollow, empty stares
Anchor heavy are two idle hands
As the darkness of the night expands
Waiting, watching, watching and waiting
Searching for anything that is placating
Wondering when the night will pass
Desperate for the sun to break through the glass
Tuesday, September 27, 2011
Delight
Skin on skin, two hearts beating
Eyes held closed against delight
Back and forth, breath is fleeting
Become one, soul is taking flight
Eyes held closed against delight
Back and forth, breath is fleeting
Become one, soul is taking flight
Monday, September 26, 2011
The Prologue
The slow, repetitive ticking of the clock's hands seems to be the only things that are moving. The world outside the bedroom window is a frozen picture. I keep waiting for the wind to blow through the trees, to raise some color, rustle up some sound. The harsh winter should be coming any day now, and for once that is a relief. But waiting with the silence, broken only by the ticking of the clock, is suffocating; it makes my stomach turn.
Maybe we shouldn’t have come here, maybe I should have taken her somewhere else. Somewhere safer. Here it is as if though even the animals and nature itself are holding their breath. As if they know the dangerous results that will follow if we are found. Here, even the animals are desperate for the cold winter to come in and hide us all.
I hear her moan behind me and turn on my heels like lightening, I’m at her bedside in less than a heartbeat. I breathe for what feels like the first time in my life. Or is it a sigh of relief? My hand on her forehead is stinging from the heat of her fever. Her moan may be filled with pain, but it is at least a sign of the life within her. A small force of light flickering still, struggling against being snuffed out. With fear, I hope.
Removing the cloth from hear forehead, I drench it once again in the bowl of cool water on the stand next to the bed. I strain the cool water out of the cloth and place it back on her forehead. As I sit down beside her, all I can do now is take her hand into the warmth of mine and whisper prayers towards her.
As day moves into night, finally the winds begin to stir and howl through the trees; the winter is coming. Along with prayers sent out in desperation, I’ve been whispering promises to her. Promises of the winter to come, which will protect us in these forgotten mountains. Promises of relief and recovery. Promises of change, of release.
Perhaps it is the desperation of hope, but it seems as though my words are keeping her fever at bay. As the darkest part of the night approaches and I resist the urge to sleep, my thoughts drift back to the beginning.
Maybe we shouldn’t have come here, maybe I should have taken her somewhere else. Somewhere safer. Here it is as if though even the animals and nature itself are holding their breath. As if they know the dangerous results that will follow if we are found. Here, even the animals are desperate for the cold winter to come in and hide us all.
I hear her moan behind me and turn on my heels like lightening, I’m at her bedside in less than a heartbeat. I breathe for what feels like the first time in my life. Or is it a sigh of relief? My hand on her forehead is stinging from the heat of her fever. Her moan may be filled with pain, but it is at least a sign of the life within her. A small force of light flickering still, struggling against being snuffed out. With fear, I hope.
Removing the cloth from hear forehead, I drench it once again in the bowl of cool water on the stand next to the bed. I strain the cool water out of the cloth and place it back on her forehead. As I sit down beside her, all I can do now is take her hand into the warmth of mine and whisper prayers towards her.
As day moves into night, finally the winds begin to stir and howl through the trees; the winter is coming. Along with prayers sent out in desperation, I’ve been whispering promises to her. Promises of the winter to come, which will protect us in these forgotten mountains. Promises of relief and recovery. Promises of change, of release.
Perhaps it is the desperation of hope, but it seems as though my words are keeping her fever at bay. As the darkest part of the night approaches and I resist the urge to sleep, my thoughts drift back to the beginning.
Wednesday, June 15, 2011
Youth
So young
Back then
Life unsung
Free of sin
Back before
The world set in
Heart to the core
How good times had been
Back then
Life unsung
Free of sin
Back before
The world set in
Heart to the core
How good times had been
Monday, June 6, 2011
Scars
Remove these clothes that hide my scars
Standing here, skin bared naked
How I wish they would shine like stars
Rather than seem result of something wicked
Standing here, skin bared naked
How I wish they would shine like stars
Rather than seem result of something wicked
Sunday, June 5, 2011
Hiding
Hiding up here in my own room
Door closed, lights off, curtains closed
There’s nothing for which to presume
No reasons to stay composed
Door closed, lights off, curtains closed
There’s nothing for which to presume
No reasons to stay composed
Friday, March 11, 2011
Reality Crashes In
I dreamt of you last night
We were running away together
In dreams, It’s always right
Days always full of perfect weather
Oh how I wish it could have been so
Instead of when we left each other behind
But reality crashes in to overthrow
The images with which dreams blind
Dreams can’t change what was done
Time cannot be turned back
Despite dreams, words can’t be unspun
In the safety of night’s pitch black
In dreams, how desperately we want
To undo and unsay our mistakes
Hold on to the moments gone gaunt
Resisting as the illusion breaks
We were running away together
In dreams, It’s always right
Days always full of perfect weather
Oh how I wish it could have been so
Instead of when we left each other behind
But reality crashes in to overthrow
The images with which dreams blind
Dreams can’t change what was done
Time cannot be turned back
Despite dreams, words can’t be unspun
In the safety of night’s pitch black
In dreams, how desperately we want
To undo and unsay our mistakes
Hold on to the moments gone gaunt
Resisting as the illusion breaks
Friday, February 25, 2011
In Like Heart
He was a boy, almost a man
Not yet a woman, I was just a girl
Too young to know what it was
But I loved him
My heart beat so fast, it ran
He made everything whirl
The way the wind does
Picking me up on a whim
We could never find
Two things on which to agree
Yet we never found
Two things that could keep us apart
We were of like mind
In that we could see
That we were forever bound
In like heart
And then one day
Up and apart, we both grew
But it doesn’t hurt
I still love him from afar
Distance does not weigh
Time does not rue
Thoughts did not avert
Separation left no scar
Not yet a woman, I was just a girl
Too young to know what it was
But I loved him
My heart beat so fast, it ran
He made everything whirl
The way the wind does
Picking me up on a whim
We could never find
Two things on which to agree
Yet we never found
Two things that could keep us apart
We were of like mind
In that we could see
That we were forever bound
In like heart
And then one day
Up and apart, we both grew
But it doesn’t hurt
I still love him from afar
Distance does not weigh
Time does not rue
Thoughts did not avert
Separation left no scar
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