Can’t stop, won’t stop.

I’ve left you behind.
I’m leaving you behind.
Fast pace on this tourists’ trail.
Gotta beat the line to the gift shop.

That pack on your back,
have you had it checked?
The fancy dress shoes you haul,
hefty price-tags attached.

I don’t speak your language,
but I do know your dialect.
Same joys & deathly quiets.
A peek of a human inside.

But you have to keep up.
Can’t drag me down or else.
There’re wolves at the heels
& cliffs all around.

I check the map, eyes on the prize.
you lay back down, thinking it’s a wrap.
How do you keep up, serene as a buddha?
What you’ve been smoking, keeping you so relaxed?

You probably thinking the same:
crazy bitch’s gone insane.
We should go to some place
where you’re dead if you’re late.

Period Talk – July Edition.

There’s a time for everything. I was never into Goddesses. Anything or anyone that’s too perfect, I instinctively distrust. I was not into the latest nail polish color. I didn’t pick my cloth to impress. I didn’t try behaving a certain way to fit into a particular crowd. When I heard women, with that confident and dreamy voice, saying, “I’m a spiritual being, I’m one with the Goddess.” I would barf and roll my eyes.

But something changed recently, I’d guess it’s in lockstep with the self-acceptance and the empowerment it afforded. The confusions and agonies I felt when I had to tend to my infuriating body had changed into a kind of mirth, an understanding, seeping from a deeply-felt fondness. What do I understand now that I didn’t before? Looking beyond the brain fogs, the unhealthy cravings, the ultra self-consciousness, I found there was something else at work. The kind of things that were on the other side, that were, and forever would be beyond my control. But I have learned to look at myself and my relationship with all these other things objectively.

I was open, against my will almost, to life and the natural processes that came with it. So open that life could wash through me without drowning me. It’s rushing and crushing and unrelenting. When it did retreat, it promised the retrial next month. I was always reeling from something. It didn’t help that I judged myself by other people’s standard and always found myself wanting. At last, it’s quiet, and I’m still. I can reign in myself better which gave me the space to really listen and feel. Now when life bubbles up, I can be present, to greet it like an old friend. To be part of the flow. As a woman.

It's a divination.
With life, you're flowing,
in the stream, the mystery of creation.
Breath deep, when you greet the origin.

It's a divination.
You have to be open to know wisdom.
Through and through, a natural woman.
In the dark, still, you're glowing.

It's a divination.
Kept under locks & keys, not given any reason.
Mother of all civilizations.
Out of balance, since forced silence.

It's a divination.
A crash course, a do-or-die enlightenment.
Rivers of blood, sacred intonement.
How they blame the creator, for the creator

is a woman.