This poem explores snakes and divine femininity. The snake is said to represent feminine energy (Kundalini, S curves, seduction), and is often demonized (dishonest, spineless, Slytherin). I don't think it's a coincidence. She fans out her pain,
And displays herself bare, baring chipped but thirsty fangs And dry but alive hair. She channels hopelessness Into a current of rage. Determined to please no-one She pleads with the rain, For a lending hand Or a flash of lightning, A rumble of thunder To signal change is coming. In the morning, She’ll wash down the blood with nectar Wrung out from depths of the ocean Purified with Snake venom. As sweet revenge trickles down her forked tongue, A pure release slithers up her spine. The time for the divine feminine has come to rise - unshackled and revived. For the first time, She’ll soften her stride, & don fresh white. Not to hide her body, But take in the beauty Blooming around the world For once. -Samirah Shri
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When you reach for perfection, I’m triggered by rejection. I want to let it go But it is all I know. Scared of your judgement, I keep a wary resentment. I want to let it go But it is all I know. I want to let it go Because I know Whether we cling to Rejection or perfection, We both react to Patriarchal oppression. Now we cling to each other’s weary hands, Unbothered, we march into the wasteland. The wind in our steps picks up the trash - White, sand, and shades of bland. Trash swirls around us, & we light it on fire. Then through the smoke, We lock eyes with each other. Our eyes burning, And stomachs churning, We surrender to our last moments together. Then in roaring unison, Our floodgates open, Protecting us in our salty water. -Tears of Salty Womxn. -Samirah Shri
Did you think it was funny to police femininity? Was impressing the guys worth stripping your humanity? You saw her face and snickered, then gripped your friend’s shoulder To lean closer & whisper – Look at her! Do you see her Mustache! It’s not a whisper if you meant for her to hear. Her face remained measured, but blood rushed to her head. Her eyes couldn’t be read, but hot tears hid behind her glare because she wouldn’t dare Give them the reward that she cared. Once she got home, she looked at her face with suspicion Then next to a comb, she eyed mom’s Nair cream potion. She snatched the tube, grabbed a tissue, unscrewed the top, but then withdrew. It was brand-new - Her mom would know she broke through. But one look in the mirror cleared her vision. She didn’t care for permission, she had a mission. She cut into the seal, pushed the cream through, Then read the instructions to completion. Nair said 3-5 minutes but she left it for seven, Already knowing it hadn’t been written for brown women. She said beauty is pain, femininity is pain, But it’s better than shame for veering off their lane. But as she grew older, she channeled hurt into anger Because anger fuels change and ignites belief in better. So when you cry that you can’t cry, from your throne of patriarchy Then turn around and blame womxn for being “too angry” Don’t forget the girl you teased in 8th grade PE, Who’s still reliving & unlearning your bully. If you think it’s funny to police femininity
To invade her energy with your insecurity of a masculinity that reeks of toxicity, we’ll get you away from our reality.
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About MeMy name is Samirah Shri. I write poetry especially for "bad" Asian daughters, but also for anyone who feels rejected within their communities. My poems guide you along my personal journey of rejection, healing, and ultimately re-connection. |