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Showing posts from March, 2014

Notes from an Old lover

The postman delivered A blank letter this morning, I hold an unending nothingness Broken only two uneven Tear drops and that familiar perfume -- I don’t hate you, she writes in invisible ink But you never complete Conversations, and never Treat people well -- You lie, cheat and Make my heart beat YOU BASTARD, she shouted You made me weep I don’t hate you She writes in invisible ink -- You cause misery Every time you smile May misery find you And s t ay with you Till you die I don’t hate you She writes in invisible ink -- The letter ends As the perfume fades In a moment of madness I taste the tears, Bitter almonds, I tell myself, Smell just like cynaide -- Unending nothingness Lies on the floor Along with me I don’t hate you She writes in invisible ink... Tz

Zulaikha’s Lament

Blotted and Stained Like blood on apples, My reputation remains in tatters After these years But what was a woman to do? -- He had the face of An angel His shoulders, A sculptors dream His eyes, spoke a million languages his lips, like daggers driven apart -- I grew outside of Cairo Unloving father and sad mother Sold me for a goat and   A bag of gold To the first merchant who They came across -- My Husband, Kind, Generous man Made me his wife And put me along with Thirteen others -- My Husband, Kind Generous man Kept me happy Visited me twice a month Blessing me with His drunken kisses and Impotent rage -- I was never sad What more could A woman want? Lots of wealth and An impotent husband Sex was a chore The price of being so glad -- Then he came Chained and covered with dust Another man from the Slave traders den He stood at the gate Neither sad nor in jest Even at a distance...

The Curator of Love

In the museum of my life You are the curator of love The keeper of chocolate wrappers And old newspapers I am the Forgettor of anniversaries And loser of key rings You hold  our memories While I clutch at Hastily brought roses Snatched probably from a funeral With the dearly  departed card still hanging You remember all dates That blue shirt,  those awful red shoes I sleep through movies,  snoring even as  Hugh Grant  gallantly  runs across the celluloid You hold us together My curator of love I just hold You --

Have you died already

Have you died already Unsung Unheard Have you died already  Did you leave a note behind Or do you expect us to Write our goodbyes for you Have you died already Sad Lonely Have you died already Did you arrange for your funeral Those few yards of land And that white cloth Or did you think we would throw you a party Have you died already Bed-ridden Comatose Have you died already Did you draft your will Those measly books And that sad table Or did you think I would give them away to charity Have you died already or Have you killed me already