Updated: Jul 27
Grown Up (16inx11in etching on handmade paper, 2016)
I was a lark of silence prior to your entry in my life
I used to entice silence out of the illegible scribbles
to set them free.
Coiling out your footprints from the barren
lands and soothing your feet by little precipitations
of kindness—used to strengthen me.
Caressing you with a speckle of stardust to make you
realize how important your survival is for me, and feeding
your heart with an oasis of desertion, with a hope of slaking
your enlightenment with thirst.
Now I’m enjoying the perks of transient state,
but still restless emotions horrify me.
They blend ice and fire in such a way that both strive
to exchange their raiment.
Both delude the upcoming generations of human beings.
Now, they laugh wickedly when man confuses their union
Salt and Lake
As soon as glistening drops fell
near the surface of the ground,
vapours clenched their fists,
knowing no matter what they do,
moisture would remain too adamant
coolness, too, is time-sensitive
I believe them
when they say grief also has a beginning!
Parwana Ya Dewana?
(Author's note: Parwana is an Urdu word for "Moth" while Deewana refers to a mad/passionate lover in the same language.)
I saw a moth
wandering around the window-pane,
in search of her confidante:
a stunning orange blob of light
with a fair skin tone and a slender body -
her ravenous teardrop,
as she fondly called him.
Nearby Charrington Rd,
a 52-ft tall, five-storey building was ablaze;
The inferno had swept through the entire space,
and there was no way to stop the music of death;
she instantly knew it was her dear rage.
Folding her wings up over her back,
she arrived at the destination
saving mortals at each step.
while her beloved was busy
flaunting his strength
like an old, white-bearded wizard
who likes to raise his hands in the air
to cast evil spells.
As came closer to her lover to prevent this outrage,
she received an elusive kiss
that soothed the cracks of her lips
but burnt her tiny self
As she waved goodbye,
I called the fire brigade.
Fizza Abbas is a Freelance Content Writer based in Karachi, Pakistan. She is fond of poetry and music. Her works have been published on quite a few platforms including Poetry Village and Poetry Pacific.
Claire DG is a visual poet, artist and writer, a designer, a French teacher, and the Artistic Director of Mad Gleam Press.