ARA POETICA: "OPEN WOUNDS" BY ABDULMALIK YAHYA
Bleed, ink, bleed!
Bleed and be free
from the muse itching
to spill the tea.
Let syllables sweat truth,
like a river denied the sea.
Your pen is no den,
let commas gasp air,
like lungs between limbs,
why cage the choice of voice
within your ribs?
Why hush the drum
that knows your skin?
Bleed and be famous,
let metaphors stagger
like prophets who care.
Dear poet, spill!
What muse dare delude
your ink to be still?
Bleed, ink,
don’t blink!
Bleed till stanzas
learn to lean, to breathe,
till your pain finds a name
and name finds belief.
No poem was born
from a careful wrist,
no fire learned mercy
from fear’s fierce fist.
Write even when the mirror
won’t claim your real.
Tear the page open,
let silence retreat.
Count your pulse
in fourteen-beat heat,
before your wound speaks.
Bleed, ink, bleed,
just to show survival rings.
the brave one flows
even when the page resists.
Bleed, ink… don't blink!
© ABDULMALIK YAHYA
(The Punsmith)
29-01-2026
The poem is a free-verse lyric manifesto that speaks directly to the poet’s inner struggle. It functions as an ars poetica, reflecting on the pain, urgency, and truth involved in the act of writing. Through exhortation and vivid imagery, it urges creative courage, honesty, and survival.
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