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Plumes engagées
Shirleys’ Sabr
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Plumes engagées
Shirleys’ Sabr
Eimaan Malik.
À l’heure du tout à l’image et du buzz sans suite, «l’express» souhaite faire découvrir la plume de poètes, de chanteurs, d’écrivains et de tous ceux qui jettent leur âme sur le papier, et qui mettent en mots des réflexions profondes.
I bite down the ropes of my bed,
Static limbs, I dance no more.
No fussing over my free curls,
Sacred truth I whisper over the moving meadow, watch the breath of a rue child pull away.
Sucking a universal crease on your thumb,
Egress this concave ship,
Ingress in a humble tunic,
Footing your ancestors pride, the dormant dragon is sylphlike.
I called it first!
Just like her perpetrator, she should have known not to trust this hungry herd.
Fingers tracing the portrait of the Belladonna Of Sadness into your pillowcase, your walls resound your true breath, wash away.
Patience, you two sisters share this denominator, having been taught to mow the lawn sharp,
Your fingers taunt you, you know of the ecosystems beauty and its simultaneous quiet march on your temple,
Abeyant voice, resilient you embody a central passageway.
The furniture’s squeaks and you move in sync with the breath of a rue wild child.
Circumstances leave you dormant, sylphlike dragon, your fiery spirit lives through the morning meadow.
Ingress in a humble tunic,
Woman bearing the light, guardian of cycles and withered seasons.
Empty your attachments, the buildings collapse and the globe spins.
Memories locked in a wooden vault,
Le Sud,
Long gone colors whispered, shoddy translations of my blues.
Bit down my mother’s mother’s hands, now she can’t soothe her baby.
For a tragically brief while, she huddled this canagan in her lambskin, warm away from the Golden Eagles screeching.
Lifting the shirt of Nessus,
I called It first!
He came crashing down gorging out her spine,
Razing down her good habits.
Bio
Eimaan Malik
Artist at heart and passionate about the art of writing, this young Kashmiri and Mauritian woman seeks to break the monotony of blank pages with verses tinged of a touch of black ink, captivating echoes of empathetic blues.
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