sunset dim-lights smell of ripe mangoes tears mild ache
smile smile smile dear self
lick up your pain
peace will arrive
boxes of mangoes too
maybe even the one who you
miss
and leave a taste in your mouth the way these sad evenings do.

-

In a sane man's house
there's no place for madness.
Yet madness sprouts in
a sane man's house.

A shy, mad woman
with a naked heart




takes birth.

(Still) Shy madwoman
Madwoman
(Stark) Madwoman
Madwoman's heart(a dragon)
Soft and loving(craving)
Full of wildflowers(uncultivated)
And bees(buzzing).
A beautiful volcano.





She loves being herself.

The poem has just begun.

-

Mejnoon


Clang clank cluck thump thud.

-

if only you knew
how vast
my heart is

you would give me
your loneliness, your darkness,
your vulnerable-ness

and make a home,
a fort
out of this.




you can mould a
GOD
my heart:
that vast, that raw.

-

1
broken
unfinished
unpolished

leaving this poem as it is
like Palestine
staggered bleeding burning
soaked in blood* of NINE innocent children
damp with tears, armless, shelterless; god! are
your hands tied?!

2
oppressors occupiers settlers terrorists
children of demon their allies and collaborators

have ground under their feet
have ground under their feet, firm
that belongs to us!
its soil reeking of our blood, sky of firey, gunpowdered wails screams pleas prayers

i am wonder-struck, they still have ground under their feet!

3
it's dangerous outside. i am shaking. i can't hear anything but heavy explosions, loud buzzing of drones
F16s hovering
missiles falling
i cry for freedom in the face of the death**

my oppressors singing , dancing
cheering in rejoice
while explosions continue
and we get bombed
and comes news of more deaths , more injuries every few minutes

you, god, are waiting for some mere day of judgement?!

-

how many things I have to repent for?

my choice of (deci)si(o)ns
my choice of god
my choice of lovers
and each thing
i befriended thinking it would last
for a lifetime.


i run amok
between two eccentricities
and call it a





life.

-

blackish-blue sky
moths circling the only-lit veranda
bulb
water condensed
on white tarpaulin
soul on cross
morning welcomes me

-

(arabic songs playing,
agitating my heart)


i press my heart
squeeze it
(music beats)
i press my heart
squeeze it
and barely manage
making corners
of my eyes wet.

when tears are in retention
even poems can't heal
such moments.

i've laughed enough
today

it's time to worry about my heart.

-

sadness-
echoing inside
my ribcage;

birds flying
for their life.

-

i dream too much,

think of god
and fall asleep.

-