Myth kitchen

Myth kitchen

Some kinds of sounds are rumbling therein

the hearers thought that there must be a hag

A myriad of suffered eras are spent

and countless tears of deals are dropped down

The cachinnating definers are always crafting conspiracy

to prove that those are the traditions and identity

But no one asked them

what is the masculine gender of a ‘hag’

Not asking the questions means

not to be an untruth

We… again and again are seeing that

the ‘other’ sprouted from Lacan

is beading this notion into another belief

The house…..after eating the youth of mother

didn’t spared the lives of other thousand daughters

Fathers and husbands

those who became much mightier

with the myth of narratives

they didn’t need the address of gender

Tenderness and love are the names

given by them… to you

But treading over these names

they grew higher and higher

The servant and the cook without a salary

the call girl without the wages

You…just within a life

sliced yourself in so many forms

Fatigued by the semblances of goddess and fragility

your life of youth is finished so far

Your tenderness and blooming stage heard

a thousand lizard words

but they also fell with the fallacy of season

You fed them with your breast

you bathed them with your blood

you said to them ‘O! My hope’

and finished yourself futilely

Needed is the reservation for

you to live here

required are the books to understand you

But while your body is praised

you didn’t claim that

you are also a perennial mind

in fact you are only a carrier of an immortal heart

and a body which will be demolished

with the passing seasons of age

Hearts never demand a home….. o mother

hearts never search reservation and the state

it lives lonely through every ages

and also ends lonely.