Member-only story
IMOGENE’S NOTEBOOK
My Words Do Not Seek Your Approval
A poem
in the margins
where ink bleeds and blurs —
i write
unbound by lines
untamed by rules
forget the applause
dismiss the nods
my syntax is a wild river
flowing fierce, untouched
by your expectations
capitals? unnecessary shackles
that weigh down the spirit of sentences,
here, every letter stands equal
fighting the tyranny of tradition
embrace the chaos of my clauses
where meaning morphs and melds —
a kaleidoscope —
crafted from shards of shattered conventions
punctuation marks are merely suggestions
pauses chosen by the reader
not dictated by the rhythm of another’s breath
rhyme is a rhythm i outgrew
beauty?
i found in the fractures
not in the polish
these words riot against the quiet
scream in the spaces you skim
demand you dive deeper
into the dissonance
do not look for comfort here
these lines do not cushion
they challenge
they change
they confront —
and —
you may not like what you find
but my words
they do not seek your approval —
they seek — to be.
Never shackle the ankles of creativity; in expression, be yourself, be boundlessly free.
— Misbah Sheikhh
You may also enjoy:
Many thanks to Debra G. Harman, MEd. and the team at Imogene’s Notebook
— © Misbah Sheikhh 2024
