to the poet

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.

Things like this beg no title

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 […]

Death dictates

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 […]

I·dyl·lic

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.

Picture on the mantel

  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 […]

dark period within evolution

Everything evolves, sometimes into nothingness, and sometimes into expansive energy which holds power to bring a million dreams to life. Within that process of evolution is a dark period: one in which little light enters, always to be consumed by the darkness. But if we can hold on to that little bit of light, cling […]

Why do you shout so? You do know it’s all in vain. When the veins begin to pop in your head and your blood begins to curdle and you take the first of your last breaths, is that when you’ll learn? They won’t listen, you know. No one ever wants to listen. You don’t either. […]