Encroachment
Encroachment of the feminine.
Encroachment on mother earth.
The home buried under the chores.
All wounds buried under our wombs.
(I)
Impotent masculinity
Has allegedly trespassed
Every gate of fertility.
He has trespassed
On her every age,
Every bone,
Every sense.
HE has trespassed
Humanity.
H E R S P A C E
Caged in his toxic brokenness.
Eventually, she too
Has been converted
Into a guardian
Of patriarchy;
A gatekeeper of her own
Death chamber.
(II)
Ye woman! Rejoice
For, the encroachment on the wild
Is only ephemeral.
Our eternal
Is beyond their paws.
Our ruins, harder than their
Collective erections.
(III)
(Resurrection)
We can build back
On our own ruined land.
We can live back
On our own bloody breath.
We can chew - all the demons up,
And sew cosmic love
In the laps of
All creation.
Together, we can temple.
(without any goddamn god)
(IV)
Oh patriarch flesh,
It's time you rejoice, too!
For, thanks to you –
The secret of human extinction
Will be eternally buried
Under the debris of
Female claustrophobia
Barefoot
Look closely, aren't my feet
Prettier than your shoe?
Aren't they more intricately designed,
Than any other goddamn brand?
(I)
Come, step in my shoes
And feel your earth bare.
Feel her heart
Thumping with plastic
Pain.
Feel your own feet
Crushing your hostile ego.
~
The face of your feet
Is your most vulnerable
Face.
It is open to every callousness,
Razors and tried nails.
It is weary to every broken
Blood and bloodied spits.
(Aren't you curious about
How will you scar, later?)
(II)
First, man and earth -
We were both barefoot.
Then man started to wear shoes.
Then man forced the earth in
Tar shoes.
Clok clok clok
Now, both meet in shoe masks
Under which none is breathing.
Under which, the child poisoned his
Mother while still suckling on her.
(III)
Until there walks a single person
With the shoe, the world refutes
To be clean.
For, this last shiny shoe human
Still carries their ego,
In their shoes.
They feel protected enough;
To not give a fuck about
What they throw,
What can hurt.
Their capitalist shoes motivate them
To coolly call
Mud; dirt
And barefoot; poverty.
(IV)
“Come, smell my bare feet. See how
They stink of Earth's dead body;
Mutilated ~
With fillets of human (s)crap,
Garbage and grief;
*Carelessly littering her skin in glee.
Like men, carefully raping in glee.*
(V)
(Kid you not)
With my bare feet,
I have seen eyes, who -
After looking at my naked feet,
Turn - half full with contempt,
Half empty with piety;
Wanting to stomp on my skin
With their artificial one.
I have seen eyes ~
Fleeing from mine
In disgust;
Of their own vulnerability
That they aren't ready to feel.
I have seen eyes ~
Bombing my limbs
With quiet arsenals, hoping
That they would rather
See me as an amputee;
Than barefoot.
(A poet and a filmmaker, Priyal “Woodpecker” is one of the new age hippies in Goa. She performs, designs, makes jewelry and promotes sustainable living and environmentalism through her art and lifestyle. Views expressed in this piece are personal)
