I was inspired to write a poem about the Othered position of women in society. With this poem, I aimed to create a sonic experience for my audience by paying attention to the rhythmic and immersive aspects of sound.
Your body is a shrine by Atifa Binte Othman
You grow up being told,
your body is a shrine.
But time
always finds a way
to mark the purest of shrines.
They can be painted
with new meanings,
layer after layer painted,
each covering what used to be,
painted.
Or perhaps,
bleached.
Bleach a little fairer
bleach ultra radiance
bleach fading darkness
bleach corroding skin
bleach thickening red
bleach blinding eyes
bleach gnawing cheeks deep
bleach need to make you pure
bleach dirty dirty girl you
broke my heart you
hurt me you
are mine you
my shrine I
erase sins I
erase wrongs I
erase you erase you erase you
erase you erase you erase you
shut up.
Your body is a shrine
your body so divine
your body make it mine
a shrine a shrine
your body is a
shrine a shrine
a shrine shrine shrine
a shrine a shrine
a shrine it’s mine
it’s mine mine
mine my shrine
make it mine my shrine
it’s mine mine
mine make it mine
my shrine shrine shrine shrine
my shrine shrine shrine shrine
my shrine
my shrine
my shrine my shrine my shrine
my body is not a shrine
my body is not mine
it’s a machine
it’s a fucking machine
a fucking machine
and it also has a turn off switch
when necessary.