Writer’s Poem Wednesday: Kailee Venzin

A few weeks ago, I had the pleasure of reading the words of a fellow blogger, Kailee Venzin. It struck a chord with me. And today, I have the pleasure of sharing it with all of you, for my writer’s poem Wednesday.

Yes, I know, I should have posted a contemporary poem but this really, is a great one. I hope you enjoy. Do check out her blog for more poems at: https://innervoicewriting.wordpress.com/

I have seen the world gone mad by Kailee Venzin

I have seen the world gone mad,
seen women bolstered by deep aches
and sly “handshakes”, burning
flags and setting the world on fire.

But I feel lost,
swallowed by a fever.
I drift as if someone took a bite out of me
and spit me out into the world.
I want to stop living in fear of losing another part of myself.

I want to be a lighthouse in the city,
call all my sisters home.
I want to pull the lost ones in,
be the blanket around their trembling bodies.
I want to feel the rebound of heat
of my breath on their necks, whisper-
It’s okay to be broken.
We’re beautiful broken.

I want to be a pussy willow,
that furry young catkin
whispering on her skin.
Soothe her like
that softness did for me as a child.
I want to shout-
You don’t have to wear hard soled shoes
to walk over the rocks.
You can wait til your feet have calloused.
You can wait til your shoulders are strong enough
to hold your body upside down.
I want to take every broken child,
their butter skin between my sidewalk hands
and say-
Don’t you dare lose that
wild wonder in your eyes.
Don’t you dare forget
that strength in your pelvis,
the fervor that carried you home.
You can be broken,
Oh, so broken,
And still be strong.

The breaking-

It wasn’t just one experience, it was a multitude of them. One after the other like the crash of a carefully assembled dominos cards; in succession. I slid slowly and then rapidly, hitting a few bumps along the way, like I wasn’t already on my way to the bottom. And I learnt on that downward journey, I learnt the bitter truth that rock bottom does not guarantee you won’t still get hit.

I watched the solid parts of me break into pieces, the liquid of my essence dissolve and gaseous parts evaporate. I was losing who I had ever known myself to be.

It took watching my whole life vanish before eyes for me to realise what life had been trying to teach me for quite some time. Sometimes, you have to shatter into pieces in order to mould into the “you”, you were always supposed to be.

U- Understand (to the one who walked out)

Understand,
When you decided,
We wasn’t worth the war,
My nights turned colder,
Than the December weather,
Soaked sheets became my partner
And gloom my constant shadow.
I was broken
And I showed it.

But understand,
A man walked out before you,
I was six and I remember,
Gazing through
Night constellations,
Wondering when,
He’ll make an appearance.
I was six,
I learnt to mend me.

Understand,
My atoms are made of
Brokenness and resilience,
And the stars at night I gaze at,
Remind me, of the light in darkness;
And my Lord,
Who saved me at six,
Wouldn’t leave me broken at thirty.
Understand- today I am grieving,
Tomorrow, will dawn a new scene.
Time for wallowing,
Time for fixing.

Healing-

She wanted to know,
Why I hid during day;
Where my nightmares took me,
In the solace of dusk;
If the golden rays streaming,
When the morning sun comes;
Puts a damp in the void,
She thought was my world.

She wanted to know,
Of the cracks in my building;
The voices I heard when,
Silence- I befriended;
She wanted to know,
Of the life I am seeking;
The universe I envision,
In my kaleidoscope dreams.

She wanted to know,
Of the holes in my heart,
The blackout in my chapters,
The fairytales, I write;
She wanted to know,
In the hopes she could heal,
But every second with her-
Is all the healing I need.

The above Image is Courtesy of Unicorn.tumblr.com

The saying”everybody needs inspiration” rightly applies to this Random, my muse has gone awol and I haven’t been able to write anything meaningful. I signed up for October Poetry Writing month but their prompts  haven’t titled my writing bone yet. Any tips?

D- Don’ts of Men

He was born at a time when society,
Considered men a different specie;
Higher in grade and superior,
Than those with xx in their genes.

He was fed with things he shouldn’t do,
The don’ts which would make him a man-
Crying when hit, playing with dollies,
They were beneath his command.

He was born at a time when society,
Imposed on him right from the start;
Displaying emotions was weakness,
And strength was a sign of men’s pride.

He was broken before realizing it,
I fell in love with a broken man;
Who’s sole fault- being born at a time,
When emotions were bottled inside.

He was born at time when society,
Imposed on men, as it still does today;
And if I’ve learnt anything from the past,
It’d be to raise my son, simply human;
Regardless of society’s enforcements…

The above image is courtesy of Soul Magazine.com   P.S this is a scheduled post. I’m currently away, will be back soon. 🙂 thanks for taking the time to read.

Fix you-

How do you fix a person,
Who’s determined,
This life is a cell;
How do you heal someone,
Who’s wound,
Hurting- is their only solace;
How do you reassure a heart-
To feel,
To break,
Is but to be alive;
Can you?
Can you?
Convince a person,
Who’s determined
The world isn’t theirs to live.

The above Image is courtesy of Picturesquotes.com

She’s my person-

Here’s to the girl who reminded me- the importance of being fractured and cracked, as the only way light could illuminate my heart; always at hand with her cheery smile.

Here’s to the girl with the huge nerdy glasses who’s face, always embedded in the pages of a book, spared her hours to hear my baseless rants.

Here’s to the girl who curled up beside my trembling body, her silence speaking and endearing more than any words could.

Here’s to the girl with books as her weapon and dreams as her shield, who opened her secluded world to a friend in need.

Here’s to the girl, who schooled me in the saying, broken is another word for “not quite there yet”.

Here’s to the girl, an outsider turned family, through tears and adversity.

Here’s to the girl, my proof- that a woman can uplift another woman too.

Here’s to that girl, my person.

the Above image is courtesy of Smmadellc.com

Don’t fall in Love with me-

Don’t fall in love with me she said-
I shine too bright,
I burn too fast,
My embers and flames,
Are tortuous beyond sight;
Don’t fall in love with me she said-
I am jagged at the edges,
Holed in the middle,
All shades of dark surround me,
My smile would be your nightmare.
Don’t fall in love with me she said-
My smile would trap your frail heart,
And I’ll leave you hanging,
It’s a curse, it’s the truth,
I’m a hard face to get rid off;

And fall in love with her he did-
You’re tough, I’m tougher
You’re scarred, I’m broken
You’re grey, I’m a dark vault
Your nightmares would be appealing.
And fall in love with her he did-
It’s a curse, it’s the truth
I’d love to Marry you;
If you do, leave me hanging,
It’d be a pleasure to be left
Hanging by you.

The above image is courtesy of : Tumblr.com  Inspired by the above quote. 

Broken-

The words he said left an echo which has only now, begun to fade.
“I didn’t break you, you were already broken”. It felt like a hundred pins were stuck into me all at once, with my body’s gating mechanism shut down so that I could feel the pain in every cell of every part of my body. He broke my heart, but it was my whole body which fell apart.

“Broken”- he called me. I was damaged, damaged goods with no value. I spent a long time trying to make sense of that word. A little longer, I spent on anyone who could fix- broken. God, I hated that word.

I wish I could say- that I realized the words he spoke that night were false, lies and nothing more but I can’t. I’m only just now learning, maybe he was right; maybe I am broken; but I am so done waiting around for him to come and fix me.

The image above is courtesy of Lost Treasures found.com

I’m Done-

I’m done. How many times I’ve said that word and betrayed the very essence of it. But there’s only so long I can hold on to our broken pieces before the shards imprint a permanent infirmity. No, I am not done. I will be, but i’m not. I’m just getting started. I might leave for a day and slip back for an hour; leave for two days and slip for some minutes; leave for a week and slip back for a few seconds. I’d keep leaving and slipping untill there is nothing left to slip back to- I have arrived at my destination and I am done, done with you.
But until then, I am just getting started…

image credit: waterdropsonmywindow.wordpress