Read My Poems on the
Reddish Stream of My Blood
by Emaam*
My power that has always been ignored,
My voice which is never heard by this deaf universe,
My rights which have never been counted,
My life decisions which are always made by others.
Oh, my destiny, give me the answer, what am I for in this universe?
What does it mean to be an Afghan woman?
Hmmm, I know you can’t provide me with an elegant answer so
Just give me the pen, the hidden pen
So that I can write, that is all I am asking for!
I promise I will take revenge, but not like men
By gun and sword and aggression,Instead I will write.
I will write even if I am warned not to touch a pen or paper,
I know one thing, that they can’t see that hidden pen with their
Blind eyes, no matter how strong their vision.
My eyes will read my environment, my brain will save the details,
And I will write with the hidden pen on the chambers of my heart,
So that when I am caught and executed,
Perhaps in Ghazi stadium like other innocent Afghan women,
People will read my poems on the reddish stream of my blood.
I will start writing with the hidden pen, and
I know this will lead to a day when girls of this land will be able
To write with chalk on the blackboards of the school
Or by markers on the whiteboards of universities,
And one day they will make their voice heard-
Then the hidden pen will be remembered forever!
* All names have been changed to protect the women.
I hope you leave comments below so the Afghan Women Writer's Project can relay them to the writers!
Pabot, Susannah E., comp.The Sky Is a Nest of Swallows. First ed. Belleville, 2012.
Afghan Women Writer's Project: http://awwproject.org/
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