March 1, 2008

Lit by Chicks

Mother

by Fatima Ijaz

Fragile at the heart,
Shattered at her core
No, we won’t live like this any more

Fragile at the eyes
Shattered at the bones
No, mother, in you I could never have been born.

Fragile heart, I’ve loved someone else
Before
For life could not move like this
Like a bruise moves in the hurting of dreams that never end
No – you cannot be my mother.
There was someone else before.
I feel lies in your skin – there’s nothing
I can hold

Of your eyes that are infidelity of kafir-rocks
The pleasing statues of pagans that flocked the streets
That stoned Kaabah where she would bleed
You broke nothing that was yours –
We don’t break our own.

No, mother, you cannot be my mother.
The woman behind your name still has to be born.
And without a birth, you can never be a mother.

When the heart opens, when
Manna receives food of light and heaven retires –
There is mother
Lost and abandoned like my dreams.

There is mother.

I am beginning to listen
To the heart of the universe.
Behind your appearance, there were
Ancient mother lines on the palm of my hand
And She lives there in that sea –
That mammoth wild unknown of the primal Jungian unconsciousness,
With all its nightmares and archetypes of ferocious mythology –
Is still fragile like a T.
There where her heart shivers, till my blood runs cold
She’s saying something to me.

And you –
You will have to step aside, mother.
Because I came from somewhere else, because
I came for someone else.
No – I was not born in you.
I was born in someone else.
In the darkest creation of myth of wild unrest
I was born in the heart of ocean-spirit-of-medusas-and-sea-gorgons.
I am a serpent-goddess
born of the hysterical storms in the sea.
I am a drowning labyrinth
Who is no longer afraid to see.
You have lost the power over me.

I will go there again. I was always meant to go alone.
They call me. And I will listen.
I will listen to what the ancient-shivering-heart of universe
Has to say to me. I will ask her why I was born.
I will ask her why I was left alone
With statues of mothers and her feelings in my bones.

I will ask. I am not afraid.

Speak! You Unfathomable Curses of black-Callings-of-Seduction! Speak!
I’ve lost all my world.
Speak. To you I was fashioned to meet.
Speak. It is in your betrayal that I’ve been trembling
Until I became the meshed fainting of melted oblivions.
Speak Now! and I will listen.


Fatimah Ijaz is the author of Glass-Butterflies Caught in a Prism, which was published in September 2007. That same year, she won first prize in the Mclaughlin Poetry Contest, held at York University, and had two poems published in the Abramelin Journal of Poetry and Magick. She has contributed articles to The News, Karachi, covering various topics ranging from Celebrity Interviews to Poetry Contributions. Fatima also has an avid interest in Collaborative Art and made her debut with Performance Poetry at The Buddha Bar in downtown Toronto. In 2002, she played the lead in “El Retablo,” held at Hartwick College. She can be reached via email.