The raindrops burn. I try to shelter myself, but it's too late. My legs scrorched. Unable to move. The rain spreads and singes. There I burn and melt with the flow.
Instantly I rise from the ashes. For even though fire is left with ash, my bones shall not burn. For their strength is greater than that of an army of giants. Their lifespan aged far more than the ancient tree. Their courage exceedingly uncommon, that the proudest knight would be jealous.
For they've been set ablaze numerous times. Now they shine black chared by the enemy. Standing up bravely I move forward.
Pricklies Pricklies Stop luring me! I detest pricklies because they tear through me. But sometimes I willingly get caught among the thicket. Because they're just as pretty as the golden corn feilds. Just as pretty as the bubbling and glistening of falling waves. They tickle my ankles and they become not as painful. For the pricklies have now torn through my skin, over and over again. My skin raw with oozing scars. I'm blinded.
I must find a flower, A clover, Anything better than the thorn bush. But what if I dont want to?
Note : Based on a true incident. It was a farewell party !
My Lovely Glass Shoes
Oh my Lovely ! What a pretty sight A glimpse of my dream Shining sparkling glittering Glass shoes of mine You are as lovely as a diamond stone Light reflecting on the surface And lighter on my petite soft feet You are a piece of heaven When I walk I feel floating on the clouds
You know my heart so well How you gripped my feet so tight When I first met him at that late night party Swaying so light when I danced with him When I stepped on his toes You hurt him, how mischievous you are How you made him frawn But he hid it cutely with a toothy smile Then I danced with him the whole night
You keep me on my toes, really... When I walked with him in the garden that evening You slipped off my feet, how naughty you are How you made him carry me But he was only happy to help, to hold me Then he carried me all the way home.. Now I keep you safe, guard you as a hidden treasure For I want to wear you, next time I meet him My lovely glass shoes, you know me so well You are a mirror to my sparkling desires
Am I the person who was born one fine day into the world of happiness ? Am I the child who learned to love and care with a family that know only to protect ? Am I the girl who weaved a story with threads of dreams and hope ? Am I the girl who wanted to love the person who loved her ? Am I the friend who gave a hand of support to a person in need ? Am I the student of whom the teachers were proud of ? Am I the one who failed in life because I forgave who hurt me ? Am I the one who still stands at the end of the path hoping you would turn back to see me ? Am I the girl who cried in silence and laughed with everyone else ? Am I the girl who danced in the rain too long to know it would never stop raining inside you ? Am I the one who found answers to everything in the cluster of clouds passing ? Am I the daughter who made her parents proud and feel loved ? Am I the sister who helped her brother to overcome his fear ? Am I the person who wished to smile and spread happiness but collected tears ? Am I the old friend you remember in the lane of memories ? Am I the person who lent you an umbrella when it was raining ? Am I the traveller who gifted a smile to the stranger ? Am I the girl who is afraid of walking back alone to her home ? Am I the one who wanted to see the beginning of the rainbow ? Am I the one who wanted to the see the end of the pathway ? Am I the one who wanted to find a treasure worth more than gold ? Am I the girl who used to dream of conquering a world with love ?
No more I am not the person I used to be. I am not the person you think I am. I am not the person I think I am.
No more I have no fears anymore. I have no tears anymore. I have no dreams anymore.
No more There is no past in my memories. There is no present in my moments. There is no future in my musings.
No more Nothing makes sense anymore. Even this poem about no more dreams.
LOVERS PARK She looked shabby and a tad shy To stroll in the park and watch birdies fly; Attempted to entice me with cucumber, But what business had I with such, For cucumber was not as nourishing A thing as a heart that beats for me.
Now I wander in the park and cry Amidst youngsters feeling high and dry, Amid rhythm of quiet laughter insinuating, And of gentle kisses and playful touches, I peer and scour to see her countenance But not a fog of her ghost stands up.
How could Lovers Park be so lonesome? And the wooden benches so sad--alas, she's gone! Would heaven to you be lonesome without me? Just as the world to me is without you.
APPEAL OF THE DEAD I am a soul of a little girl in a temple Soaked in a knee deep pool of crimson blood, Behold! There is a scene of confusion; Quite oblivious of her past perfunctory bows My mother cries like a child and cusses, Not a single goddess saves My child in your very house.
My father hides his eyes and considers Religion is in want of a change, My uncle often says his Namaz While I cover my cheeks and calves; My aunt searches for her misplaced Gita While my cousins break my yet undeveloped eggs-- Blood branches like vines down my thighs.
My brother wears a tux of purity and holds a candle Yet unlike the Samaritan winds his eyes with a scarf; My sister swears that Thy love's untrue, Her unbelief is not the fault, But her believing in any thing is.
She's never heard Thou hast bathed her with water, Washed the blood and put ointment, Adorned her with jewellery, and fed her honey, Olive oil and the finest flour, She has become very beautiful and rose to a queen. Indeed, the most beautiful, the last of your creation.
Boys call her goddess; how often I yearn for the title unaware That goddess could be killed in her own dwelling, Could be raped and burnt by a devotee.
And the guardians of my motherland So troubled and confound by their own voices-- They lack a moment of silence to listen To your voice raining in their hearts, If only they... Conceited as man ever is He turns away as did Pilate before the truth.
Lord, I have a small request-- Who is there to avenge me? Make my sister as brave a woman as Queen Esther, Like Rahab to put her trust in you, Grant us one to hold the sun in place; Your soldiers are tired fighting the darkening night. Grant us a wise jury to draw the line, And the sagacity to judge wisely, To seal the mouth of hungry lions, To skin alive the filthy wolves that come for lambs.
Give a man a heart which loves his life--his woman.
"I passed by you again and looked on you; you were at the age for love. I spread the edge of my cloak over you, and covered your nakedness: I pledged myself to you and entered into a covenant with you, says the Lord God, and you became mine" Ezekiel 16:8