Poetry || Rupi Kaur

Honestly guys, i didn’t intend to blog tonight. I have a pile of untouched books to deal with but somehow someway, i found myself on tumblr (Please don’t judge me) and came across a quote by Rupi Kaur and of course the CIA in me just had to dig for more of her works
I found Gold!!

The Quote i came across

“every time you tell your daughter you yell at her out of love
you teach her to confuse anger with kindness
which seems like a good idea till she grows up to
trust men who hurt her cause they look so much like you.”

Some of the others i like

“your mother complains you are not tall enough.
your father worries you’re wilting away.
your friends say you look tired.
your boyfriend wishes you’d stretch in all the places he likes holding onto.
i’d like to know how the empress inside your body.
the master of your soul.
i’d like to know how that storm they call a woman. I’d like to know
how she’s feeling.”

Did you think i was a city big enough for a weekend getaway?

I am the town surrounding it, the one you’ve never heard of but always pass through

There are no neon lights here, no skyscrapers or statues

but there is thunder, for i make bridges tremble

I am not street meat, i am homemade jam thick enough to cut the sweetest thing your lips will touch

I am not police sirens, i am the crackle in a fireplace

I’d burn you and you wouldnt take your eyes off me

I am not a hotel room, i am home

I am not the whiskey you want. i’m the ater you need

Don’t come here with expectations and try to make a vacation out of me

“my issue with what they consider beautiful is that their concept of beauty
centres around excluding people
i find hair beautiful when a woman wears it like a garden on her skin

That is the definition of beauty
big hooked noses that point upwards to the sky like they’re rising to the occasion
skin the colour of earth my ancestors planted crops on to feed a lineage of women with
thighs thick as tree trunks
eyes like almonds, deeply hooded with conviction
the rivers of panjab flow through my bloodstream
so don’t tell me my women aren’t as beautiful as the ones in your country”

there’s a question that people love asking
it’ll come up about 10 minutes into the conversation
right after the small talk about weather and how work has been
are you seeing anybody?
and then the curious few will even find it in themselves to ask, aren’t you lonely,
this poem is for them.
you see, my solitude is the greatest freedom i’ve been given
my lonely is so brilliant
it puts daylight to shame
i am not sad
i am so happy i swear my
insides are filled with strawberry milk and my mouth holds more
adventures than tastebuds
give me more lonely, let me greet lonely with open arms.
let me sleep with it, find peace in it.