(say it in your heart three times)
This room reeks of pungent hair wax and Nivea men deodorant
This is not my room, nor is it hers
But the way she walks in makes me believe she’s been here before
I caught her walking through the walls but she never say anything.
Mari sini sayang, Duduk di pangku ibu luahkan hati kamu.
This is not my room, nor is it hers
But the way she walks in makes me believe she’s been here before
I caught her walking through the walls but she never say anything.
Mari sini sayang, Duduk di pangku ibu luahkan hati kamu.
(say it three times)
Before I could say, you were already gone
Just like that
So I go searching through reflections for your outline
But its just mine
Now I’m left with this viscuous black river in my chest
and words that are no longer mine.
(say it three times) I’m the one with the ghost in my bed
(in a bed thats not mine, in a room thats not mine either)
My words are not mine, nor is it yours.
Aku nak balik, aku nak balik aku nak balik jua.
by Alya Rahmat
Before I could say, you were already gone
Just like that
So I go searching through reflections for your outline
But its just mine
Now I’m left with this viscuous black river in my chest
and words that are no longer mine.
(say it three times) I’m the one with the ghost in my bed
(in a bed thats not mine, in a room thats not mine either)
My words are not mine, nor is it yours.
Aku nak balik, aku nak balik aku nak balik jua.
by Alya Rahmat
1. The Sacred
You exist, somewhere in between my heart and my lungs, a little stuffed, a little uncomfortable,
But safe, encased in my ribs.
But safe, encased in my ribs.
2. The Sacred
You are there, I feel you, every day, every single minute, every breathing second, every beating heartbeat, I feel you…
I don’t always like you… but I accept you.
You are there, I feel you, every day, every single minute, every breathing second, every beating heartbeat, I feel you…
I don’t always like you… but I accept you.
3.The Sacred
You tell me I am sacred, the female body that created, that creates, that endures, that hurts and hurts and hurts. You tell me I am sacred and then you rip me to pieces, more and more and more of them…
And then you give me back those pieces to shove together.
You tell me I am sacred, the female body that created, that creates, that endures, that hurts and hurts and hurts. You tell me I am sacred and then you rip me to pieces, more and more and more of them…
And then you give me back those pieces to shove together.
4. The Sacred
I don’t know what to do with you, I don’t know how to be okay with your beating pulsing thump in my chest,
I don’t know what to do with you, I don’t know how to be okay with your beating pulsing thump in my chest,
I am scared of you, but I do love you, like a strange, deranged widow seeking for solace. I even run behind your chaotic mess of child’s heart, that yearning to run behind you scares me.
5.The Sacred Feminine
What are you?
Does it matter what you are,
You will change, always, forever,
Some days you will be kind,
Some days you will tear me, and laugh at that tearing.
At moments I think I know you, I almost feel you at the tips of my fingers,
And then you are gone,
Leaving nothing behind,
Your fleeting touch,
Your scorching smell,
It… is just… gone…
What are you?
Does it matter what you are,
You will change, always, forever,
Some days you will be kind,
Some days you will tear me, and laugh at that tearing.
At moments I think I know you, I almost feel you at the tips of my fingers,
And then you are gone,
Leaving nothing behind,
Your fleeting touch,
Your scorching smell,
It… is just… gone…
6.The Sacred Feminine
I am scared, I am tired,
I don’t want to fight you anymore,
I don’t want to fight for you,
Or with you either.
I am scared, I am tired,
I don’t want to fight you anymore,
I don’t want to fight for you,
Or with you either.
I am going to leave you in a corner for now,
When I have the strength, the will, the resilience, I will come back.
When I have the strength, the will, the resilience, I will come back.
7. …
I am sorry I am less, I am sorry I am more. I am sorry I am at all.
-by Divya Kishore
I am sorry I am less, I am sorry I am more. I am sorry I am at all.
-by Divya Kishore
Dengan helaian pandanganmu, sendu jiwamu
He knows what you have been through
He knows what you have been through
Translucency overlaps the hue of sacred
The moist tongue of the sinners,
Seeking forgiveness,
Embraces the sweetness of Mercy
as it fills the abyss of vulnerability
The moist tongue of the sinners,
Seeking forgiveness,
Embraces the sweetness of Mercy
as it fills the abyss of vulnerability
at a scrutinized point of intricacy
they imposed their contradicting beliefs on yours
as they shred your blistered flesh
whilst they sit within their own comfortable skin
dictating you what to do
they imposed their contradicting beliefs on yours
as they shred your blistered flesh
whilst they sit within their own comfortable skin
dictating you what to do
what were you wearing? why did you not speak up?
cover yourself, show yourself
show yourself, cover yourself
time and again, we suffer still,
and at what cost as they torment
cover yourself, show yourself
show yourself, cover yourself
time and again, we suffer still,
and at what cost as they torment
they berate when it's not their trauma to tell
it was not their privacy that was invaded
they do not know of the nightmare that you dwell
just their two cents they thought were validated
the seclusion of the four walls confide truths buried within
it was not their privacy that was invaded
they do not know of the nightmare that you dwell
just their two cents they thought were validated
the seclusion of the four walls confide truths buried within
and if the victims were a man, what tragic questions would they ask them
are they still restricted based on what they wear?
or will they be accused as 'but you're not a woman?'
seemingly unfit to be a victim?
you ought to make me laugh
are they still restricted based on what they wear?
or will they be accused as 'but you're not a woman?'
seemingly unfit to be a victim?
you ought to make me laugh
careful with the supplications of the oppressed for they will be remain answered
The tears of the repenters deem pure in His eyes
than the zikir of the arrogant,
The winds of longing whisper strings of prayers
at the fleeting ends of your lashes,
While the door remains opened
The tears of the repenters deem pure in His eyes
than the zikir of the arrogant,
The winds of longing whisper strings of prayers
at the fleeting ends of your lashes,
While the door remains opened
the bursting blood vessels I assure you,
runs deeper than the scratch on the surface of the skin,
no stitches shall do these people justice
tip on your toes while we protest against this prejudice
runs deeper than the scratch on the surface of the skin,
no stitches shall do these people justice
tip on your toes while we protest against this prejudice
dengan nafas helaian rindu,
hatimu nan sembuh,
lull, He knows what they did
hatimu nan sembuh,
lull, He knows what they did
-by Nur Hidayah
When I was five,
I saw the orange hue light shining from the window,
I will ask you over and over again, is it already the time?
And I knew the answer,
When the soft and gentle smile came out.
I saw the orange hue light shining from the window,
I will ask you over and over again, is it already the time?
And I knew the answer,
When the soft and gentle smile came out.
Back then I did not know much about things,
What I knew of is that we share the same yearning for love and peace,
As we silently kneeled down next to each other,
I heard words came out from your mouth that I could not recognize,
It felt strange but comforting at the same time,
And I did not know that would be the last time,
I would be a living proof that the two worlds cross path,
What I knew of is that we share the same yearning for love and peace,
As we silently kneeled down next to each other,
I heard words came out from your mouth that I could not recognize,
It felt strange but comforting at the same time,
And I did not know that would be the last time,
I would be a living proof that the two worlds cross path,
The toss and turns of the world for the past years,
The little me that once saw the orange hue light,
Dimmed by the selfishness,
Their own agenda,
Tainted the light that not just me,
But other people saw,
I thought to myself at that time,
"That is just how humans are and how the world works",
But is that really how it works?
If that is the case,
I do not want to be here anymore,
The little me that once saw the orange hue light,
Dimmed by the selfishness,
Their own agenda,
Tainted the light that not just me,
But other people saw,
I thought to myself at that time,
"That is just how humans are and how the world works",
But is that really how it works?
If that is the case,
I do not want to be here anymore,
I encountered it again when I was seventeen,
It was a surprise,
A pleasant one,
Once again I saw the orange hue light,
But this time I asked and the world answered me,
"Is there still a place for us to kneel down next to each other again?"
"Oh darling, maybe now is not the right time
It was a surprise,
A pleasant one,
Once again I saw the orange hue light,
But this time I asked and the world answered me,
"Is there still a place for us to kneel down next to each other again?"
"Oh darling, maybe now is not the right time
-by Kenenza Michiko
The red in Her eyes flickers with love and rage,
Rage towards the ones who started this ruse,
Love for those who trust despite this cage.
She walks the earth, barefoot amidst man’s rule.
Her scars, her armour, her strength,
Her blood, her story, her legacy;
As She hears the words ‘No Place for the Impure’.
Rage towards the ones who started this ruse,
Love for those who trust despite this cage.
She walks the earth, barefoot amidst man’s rule.
Her scars, her armour, her strength,
Her blood, her story, her legacy;
As She hears the words ‘No Place for the Impure’.
The river cried blood every year,
It was cause for worship here.
She watched as you denied prayer to the bleeding she,
For her devotion, you denied her plea.
You worship the power and strength in giving birth,
Yet you refuse Her daughters, the nerve.
It was cause for worship here.
She watched as you denied prayer to the bleeding she,
For her devotion, you denied her plea.
You worship the power and strength in giving birth,
Yet you refuse Her daughters, the nerve.
She quaked with rage,
As you yelled ‘back into your cage!’
You came to life in her womb,
Yet you discard her devotion into the tomb.
Who gave you the right? Who?
To steal her innocence and deem she is no longer pure,
And to deny her the sacred embrace.
As you yelled ‘back into your cage!’
You came to life in her womb,
Yet you discard her devotion into the tomb.
Who gave you the right? Who?
To steal her innocence and deem she is no longer pure,
And to deny her the sacred embrace.
As you yelled ‘no place for the impure’, She gave her daughters strength,
The strength to rise as you condemned her faith to death.
You, how do you stand there turning away the purest of hearts?
The strength to rise as you condemned her faith to death.
You, how do you stand there turning away the purest of hearts?
As you claim to worship the Goddess while her daughter departs.
As she leaves, her faith in prayer you obscure,
Who are you to decide, ‘no place for the impure’?
-No Place for the Impure by Shuchita Kapur
As she leaves, her faith in prayer you obscure,
Who are you to decide, ‘no place for the impure’?
-No Place for the Impure by Shuchita Kapur
Within me lies heaven
“Tapak kaki ibu syurgamu.”
But what if my feet they out me when judgment falls?
Will they speak of good? Or will they tell on me?
Yet heaven lies within this humble body of mine, a place of sin for one but paradise for another.
A place so sacred I call my home at the disposal of man.
Yet my Rahim,
the most forgiving, most merciful part of my existence,
It sustains me.
“Tapak kaki ibu syurgamu.”
But what if my feet they out me when judgment falls?
Will they speak of good? Or will they tell on me?
Yet heaven lies within this humble body of mine, a place of sin for one but paradise for another.
A place so sacred I call my home at the disposal of man.
Yet my Rahim,
the most forgiving, most merciful part of my existence,
It sustains me.
Rahim by Alyah Amani
Oh to be praised by the makciks as an Anak Dara
So pure, So innocent
So clean, So sacredBut how do I accept that compliment
When all I feel is like a ghost in an empty vessel?
The only thing that filled this body is guilt and shame
Does anyone feel the same?
Sometimes this white cloth keeps me sane,
But isn't it upsetting how once a month I won't be able to feel the same?
So pure, So innocent
So clean, So sacredBut how do I accept that compliment
When all I feel is like a ghost in an empty vessel?
The only thing that filled this body is guilt and shame
Does anyone feel the same?
Sometimes this white cloth keeps me sane,
But isn't it upsetting how once a month I won't be able to feel the same?
Maybe that's the wonders of the female body
To be able to switch into something
Sacred and celebrated
And then into something that is frowned upon by manyBut it is my body
And I choose to celebrate it however I want
It is a journey
But I hope one day
This white cloth will not end up wrapping me with the soil beneath me.
Dara or Darah? by Norica Taslim
To be able to switch into something
Sacred and celebrated
And then into something that is frowned upon by manyBut it is my body
And I choose to celebrate it however I want
It is a journey
But I hope one day
This white cloth will not end up wrapping me with the soil beneath me.
Dara or Darah? by Norica Taslim