You asked me for a world map I showed you my bloodied knee It is no less than a map Of the world; not just my world Those purple specks show you islands The pink flesh shows the continents The brown crusting skin, the decay of humanity And blood. And blood. And blood. What more […]
He looks up at the crying sky and Touches his heart He feels the tears inside and Comforts the sky by joining it. Train tracks, poetry, his old guitar Free wind in his hair, free thought in his mind He conjures up anything from Psychotic men to mute Anettes Look into his eyes and you […]
Bricks upon bricks upon bricks upon bricks upon bricks upon my heart. Not even rocks which I love, but man-made bricks, and again they remind me of humans. Highest and basest of beings. . I hear distant thumps and blasts but it is only I who notice them. Everyone around me seems unaware and oblivious. […]
you spin with the rings of Saturn and twirl around the stars when they combust you catch wisps of their memories as they die having witnessed centuries and use them greedily as you scribble your poems, unconscious of yourself. -Moniba.
There’s this gullak in my brother’s room. It’s made of rough brown clay, unvarnished, pink and blue flowers painted on it. The slit in it is hardly wide enough to slide a coin in. I wonder who made it. Who was the potter? Was it an old, withered man with permanently muddy fingernails and a […]
It blows its frosty breath and holds its silver sceptre the knob glows with its latest kill. (Soft departure is only soft to the onlookers.) Death dictates its purple toes twitch in line with frozen blood. (Cold storage is cold to everyone.) It uses full stops as its only punctuation and knows no hyphens definitely […]
If you feel a void inside you, He can fill it. And only He can fill it. Some of us go through our entire lives trying to fill that void. The world tried to replace God with nationalism back in the 17th century. It has been a void in itself since. The dictionary defines a […]
Originally posted on Randomly Abstract:
Amidst sky hues, Setting suns, misty blues, Silences lapsing into eternities, infinities; Our poetry calls us to listen. ◊ Took this on my return route from Nathiagali, Pakistan. Got inspired by the daily post’s challenge to share it because this trip meant all sorts of magic to me.
Wo dhun pata nahi kb milegi. Wo jurm pata nahi kb maaf hoga. Wo jurm jiski maafi na maangi jaaye kabhi maaf hoga bhi k nahi hoga? Maafi bhi kia cheez hae. Maangny waaly ka dil halka krdeti hae. Baaqi maannay waaly ko agar maanna hota hae wo wese bhi maan he jaata hae. Haan […]
There’s a picture on the mantel A picture that I love Of you and me together Twenty years afore. It was taken in our hometown Afront that crazy, little barn The one we painted red To make our world glow warm. It reminds me now of moments The ones that we have lived It […]