The Bad Woman Poem by Jayeeta Shamsul

The Bad Woman

Everyone calls her ‘bad'
I've never seen her sad,
She is vivid on own fad,
For her I am mad!
Her lips are tangerine from beetle stains,
Her fingertips contain henna stains,
Watching her I evaporate my stains.
When she is in pain, it really rains.
She is a dark woman, whom all hates,
She is a taboo, whom they tolerate,
I want to tear up her outer façade.
She wears a coiled "bindi" on her forehead,
She is miles away from being sacred,
Still, she doesn't deserve this much hatred.
She chews tobacco with areca nuts,
She pops tobacco and cashew nuts,
Everybody hates the way she smacks,
Kohl pencil makes her eyes dark,
Her attitude makes her ever darker,
I hope her "bindi" glows in the dark,
She demolishes all the perks.
For her, I am total jerk.
I love her silver jewelries,
She, herself is a revelry,
I love the sound of her bangles,
I love the way her waist-chain dangles.
She beads traditional woman tattoo on skin,
She doesn't live in anyone else's skin.
Her forehead accumulates the power,
She is the solo woman in sun-shower,
She is a mix of sacred and secret,
She is never a taboo,
She is life's hullabaloo,
She is the hymn of voodoo! !

The Bad Woman
Wednesday, November 26, 2014
Topic(s) of this poem: art
Error Success