Sunday, April 01, 2012

To Goddesses With Broken Bones

The Statue by Neha
We ,
The Goddesses with broken bones
the Mona Lisa smiles
that hide or give away
the sorrow and the ecstasy of life

A cross on our hearts
A trident and a lotus in hands too
A sponge absorbing
more than it was made to hold
but holding up still, somehow anyhow
a weight on these hearts of gold
we float in dreams of zero gravity globes

Nights and days on our side
(even when they are not, as on this very very dark day)
An ocean twirling behind the eyes
as we ride on these wild tides
For sometimes the bones are broken
to keep the boat afloat
this old breeze feels young though
and we smile on.

We who paint our lips red to live grey lives in technicolor
We who start where the film credits end
We who hum that innocent song we heard many moons ago
on that night at the movie hall
(It should have been a  soft memory of a song for an old age-
but it became a brutal rape, a push, an iron rod,
a shout for help, but nobody came 
and now we try to breathe on artificial air)
We who beat on after the last beat is beaten : on and on and on
We who talk of tomorrow's weather walking on historic stones
We, the Goddesses with broken bones
(A million goddesses, with a million broken bones, a million times over)
We, the Goddesses with broken bones


1 comment:

Write Here Write Now said...

I can sense the angst in your verse, Neha. It is high time that women take a stand against violence and refuse to be cowed down by societal / patriarchal pressures.