I have always felt the warmth of the morning light,
and being the sun's own daughter-
I have been caressed and kissed by mother sun until I could taste like sunshine-
I wish Amma could taste the same.
She would wake up each morning and burn her issues with the burning incense, clean the house as if that would make her forget what she has to endure, and prepare for yet another day where she has to bow down her eyes with fear when she looked at this man, I called Abba, and I always asked myself, " Is love, fear?".
Her days rotated around him but I doubt if his days rotated around her. His days were about- work,friends,wealth and the thing that made darkness dance with the stars- football. Her days were about serving him,ensuring he was full, staying right behind him until he was done eating and staying quiet until he nodded with satisfaction. I think Abba is selfish. I just think so.
And on days like these when the warmth of the mother sun kiss my own cheeks, I am pushed to say that,with a toxic "love" like that, I am pretty sure that the tired woman would die with a bag filled with enough guilt (and unfulfilled dreams) for a husband who never thought she was ever enough.
Jul 8, 2018
Jul 8, 2018 at 1:26 AM UTC
Buy me moments.
Buy me moments of frappe and cappuccino where we can have deep conversations.
Buy me moments,
Of love in whispers,
Of tea in small antique cups,
Of life away from drama.
Buy me moments,
That will make me forget materialism,
That will make me yearn for longer nights on the terrace,
Singing songs as old as the museum,
And burying ourselves away from what they call “modern and trendy”.
Buy me moments,
Enough of them,
To make me declare you as my own.
Aug 11, 2017
Aug 11, 2017 at 11:52 AM UTC
The things I love
remain like riddles to many
stories tangled and victories untold.
The things I love
will break your soul
into pieces
like shattered foams
and I won't apologize for that.
Aug 8, 2017
Aug 8, 2017 at 11:00 AM UTC
Her eyes,
the mountain water flowing on a rock.
Her one glance makes my world go round and round.
When our eyes meet,
tales are told and fire is ignited.
Her beauty is mischievous,
they can as well term her a marmoset.
Moon,your smiles have left me intoxicated even in my own soberness and my heart has become a delicate ****
As we become one today,
Under the vows set by the Lord,
I watch as our names get washed by the arms of the sea,
My heart tied to yours for a reunion and love that shines like threads of silver seen through crystal beads.
Aug 8, 2017
Aug 8, 2017 at 10:34 AM UTC
Kismat, that was what it was.
Fate.
I left his hands shivering.
I knew we could never see each other again.
As his parents pulled him away from me, like I was tuberculosis.
I remember the one word, he said
"Kismat".
I fought my tears and my desired heart cried like a tired child for that one fond look.
When I love,
I leave no stone unturned.
And as I remember the man who taught me love,
I realize that our love was like the creeping vine which withers when it has nothing to embrace.
Aug 7, 2017
Aug 7, 2017 at 3:46 AM UTC
Dear Fire,
and as I think of you,
I think of how much my heart is yearning.
I know that you are miles away,
but in my heart,
there lies a valley of you and your memories that no can reach.
I hear strange music in my ears as I remember the way you whisper my name and as you hold my hands to a land of mountains and breezes where only you and I can reside.
Habibi, let the words reign and the thrones shower with rain as the world remembers the love story of the fire and water.
Jul 19, 2017
Jul 19, 2017 at 7:42 AM UTC
You are an enigma.
A house of tales and imperfection because there is no perfect body and no perfect curve.
Each part of you sings a different song that can never be heard anywhere else,
and as I look at you,
I see an elegant young woman with an ocean of diamonds that cannot be seen by the outer eye,
but by those brave enough to dig inside.
Jul 17, 2017
Jul 17, 2017 at 9:52 AM UTC
When will this world be a better place?
Why are human beings destroyers, villains, and evil?
Peace bores them too fast that they have come up with guns and swords and knives made by hatred and smeared with blood and venom.
But why?
Why can't the man next door be a brother for life?
Why can't we ignore the colors and see humanity and joy?
Why can't we uplift the poor and live with the blacks and whites and reds and Bushmen without wondering who they are or where they come from?
I cry each night thinking of hope, singing songs with the planets I create in my head, spreading love to doves and puppies and cows and goats.
Because this world has a lot of information, piled up with knowledge and innovation but flat in implementation.
I yearn for joie de vivre, for heaven on earth and for happiness in little huts and simple things and broken hearts.
Can we do this small act?
Can we all be one?
Can we stop alienating heroes and heroines who can bring change and innovation, ideas and strategies that can propel us forward?
Can we compromise and work together as the sun and the moon who whilst the sun gives us hope at the day, the moon promises serenity as the night ends.
Can we, just this one time?
Jul 13, 2017
Jul 13, 2017 at 3:48 AM UTC
Paint the world with crayons of freedom,
with words of blood and ink,
using the most uncaged piece of you,
your royal mind.
Jul 12, 2017
Jul 12, 2017 at 4:37 AM UTC
Sing me songs I am not familiar with.
Songs of shooting stars and constellations.
Songs that are sung by drunken bellows and songs that can make me dance with the daffodils.
Songs that sound so much like the classic old times where there was enough for everybody and no one was ever greedy.
Songs of unity and appreciation.
Songs of peace and tranquillity.
My ears, they have turned deaf.
They cannot hear all this anymore.
And if you want to sing a song to me today,
please sing me a song I am not familiar with.
Mar 26, 2017
Mar 26, 2017 at 6:48 AM UTC