The Blue Poem

I pull those petals off the blue flower one by one they fall on the blue grass of the blooming blue garden of this blue, blue city. The blue birds chirp gaily a blue song which turns my blue heart indigo and the indigo begins to dance to a rhythm of blue love in this […]

The Refuse

Look at me I am the misery of a hundred chained lions The toil of a hundred caged doves The lament of a hundred dying crickets And all of those roars, those strangled songs, those insistent yet dying cricket notes They live within, they live within. Look at me I am the raped soul of […]

The bloodied world map

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 […]

Etch(ed) Inside

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 […]

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 […]


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.