An origamist took my heart,
folded it into a thousand pieces
and then called it art.

By: Lulwama Kuto Mulalu

Dear Heart,

I know that you are tired, because I am tired too.
I know that you are fragile and hurting,
-I can feel the hopelessness in your fading beats.
I tried my utmost best to take care of you in the little ways that I knew how
But still, you are slowly bleeding out

-I failed… I failed you.

One day in the future I will get the courage to ask you for that undeserved forgiveness,
The forgiveness that I cannot seem to even give to my body,
And I hope that on the day, I will be able to beg you for that same pardon with the humblest of hands.
I pray that when you see the scars on my swollen knuckles, you will not despise me,
Instead you will look at me with pity filled eyes
And tell me that my sickness, this awful sickness, was never my fault.
I know that you are scared, because I am scared too.
But mostly I am scared for you,
For I am not getting better am I?

Dear Heart,

I am so sorry for letting you down,
For treating you in the most indecent of manners,
For all the permanent bruises that I have given  you
…And for the damage, and what unspeakable damage I have done unto you…
 I am monster.
I know…I know that you are exhausted,
But I don’t know how to ask for the help that you need.
I have forgotten how to speak truthfully and honestly about how much it hurts
How do I tell them what I have done to you?
You deserve better.
But I am not the better that you deserve
I am the ****** luck that you got stick with
And for that I sincerely apologize.
You deserved much better.

Dear Heart,

I cannot promise to help you
Because deep inside of me I know that I don’t have the strength to.
I cannot save you,
And for that I am sorry.
The truth is that I have forgotten how to be free.
I don’t know how to any more.
I somehow un-learnt how to keep in what I take in
But no matter how many times I purge my sins and ask myself for redemption,
The little morcels of guilt always seem to remain in the very centre of my gut.

Dear Heart, 

This punishment was never aimed at you,
But you deteriorated and withered from it none the less…
You should have been treated with more respect
With love and care…
Please grant me your resolve
And give me the serenity to accept all my imperfections
Please tell me that you forgive me.
We are a broken pair, both you and I
-You we were never meant to suffer
But you did
And you are still.
Never forget that you are precious to me,
It was never my intention to hurt you in the torturous ways that I did…
Your pain was an unfortunate side-effect of my selfish inability to be free
And for that I apologize,
I apologize for the unbearable inconveniences that you have been forced to face
Please find it within you to forgive the mess of host that I have become…

                                                                                                                Yours sincerely,   

By: Lulwama Kuto Mulalu

You shout and scream
Angrily saying words that you don’t mean
And in the heat of the moment
You’re only looking to burn everything that you see
Because you my love, are an Arsonist
  
You and I are tangled in a web of miscommunication
Whereby you speak a different kind of English-
A dialect where I hate you translates into I love you
And the bruises that you cover me with,
Are just secret poems that you leave on my skin

I don’t understand the poems though,
For they were poems written in an ancient alphabet;
A one that is undecipherable to the rest of the world-

Only because you are the misunderstood lover
That is speaking in tongues that no one has heard yet

So I laid there bare as you read them aloud to me
All broken souled and on your knees,
And I saw the shame in your famished figure
While you stuttered and recited your apology.

You always told me that you loved me through a broken telephone,
Why?
And made me promises that I knew could not be kept,
Why?
I heard you say that that time, was the last time…

But all that your words are are simply tongue twisters
In a perpetual game of Chinese whispers

By: Lulwama Kuto Mulalu

I'll sing of all the ways I miss you
and how this sorrow came to be
the verses, lies I should have whispered
the chorus, truths in harmony.

The melody will break the silence
and call your broken heart to me
to be repaired by love unyielding
to broken hymns in minor key.

/
Many days
I do not read any newspaper
Even do not see television
At all
Many days have gone
After You
I do not read any poetry

How to feel that since this morning!
Repeatedly hear identifying tunes on the air

Your arrival in the sky,
The air reverberates
Looks like another day
In the Paradise,
In another song,
Which brings the soul
The Aroma

Everyone is coming out
From all sides
Young Old
Babies Boys
Women Men
Everyone
Everyone is clapping
Singing the song of the same tune
This song is not the song of Rain
Not even a lamentation

The Southern breeze whispering your words
Slowly Said,
The Little Tailor Bird
No, No,
Not such a summer afternoon
Not even a hurricane warning

Each of the human eye
Follow the Eastern Sky  
Tireless Eye
Watching the sun,
The Red Sun,
You went to bring dreams for us
From the Sun

Hundreds of thousands of people
In his next question
Hand with Flower
Shoulder to Shoulder
Today will be the day of strangers,
The poet will come
We are standing in the flowers
Fist full of dreams to take

Float in the sky with white clouds
My dreams are calling again
Today is not such an Autumn
But Still feel like an Autumn
Indeed,  
The poet will come,
A poem in the New

Where each word will be spoken dream
Love to be evacuated
Poems that will repay
The debt to my Ancestor
Take revenge on thee
For their injustice,
Torture
Poems that would bring the stars
For our next generation
A poem that would bring the red rose for my darling,
Would bring such a smile to my mother's face
As Moon that smile
And that is simply killed false dreams
Will we ever Released
Sing Freedom Songs

The Poet,
My beloved Poet
You will come,
Will surely come
And will recite your immortal poem
/

@ Musfiq us shaleheen

.
A poet's heart isn't like any other...
It's the tears that trickle with radiance through words.
     It's a treasure trove that hides but longs to
     be found.
          It's a book shelved high that wants to
          be read.
               It's the freest of all birds caged but
               unbound...

A poet's heart isn't like any other...
It doesn't beat to the capable strokes of the artist.
     It doesn't pump in the most vibrant of
     colours.
          It doesn't wield a paintbrush to
          translate its thoughts.
               But it can see through the eyes of
               painters...

A poet's heart isn't like any other...
It doesn't conform to the conventional parameters of lyrics.
     It doesn't bind itself to the requirements
     of musical harmony.
          It doesn't follow the conventions of
          genres.
               But it sings its voice loud without
               restrictions of melody...

A poet's heart isn't like any other...
It's an open secret, that whispers in metaphoric codes.
     It's an exploding universe, that merges
     back into galaxies.
          It's a sought after painting, that boasts
          of unfathomable beauty.
               It's an everlasting song, that echoes
               within the poet that embodies...

Show, don't tell.

Show:

Suddenly he found himself smiling more, and occasionally he even laughed. His sarcasm withered away and instead, what took root was an incredible earnestness to explain his thoughts and feelings to other people and even listen- no matter how stupid he thought them previously. Eventually he figured that this odd happiness couldn't be just a coincidence: it was sustained by the way she dotted her i's with little hearts whenever she wrote his name.

Tell:

He was in love.

Too many times
I've been pushed aside
     On the back burner
My whole **** life
         But I wanna be the fire
   That lights your soul
I want a raging, blazing
         Inferno
      Sparking flames
Making changes
        In the chemistry
   A little oxygen
       So I can breathe
A lot of hydrogen
     So you can believe
We're floating on air
        Particles you can't see
      Like love
It's a mystery
            A theory
   Of who's meant to be
And who's left suffering
         That's destiny
     I'm creating
Breaking
     Changing the flames
   Into ashes
And graves
      With no names
Just broken hearts
          On tombstones
     And no chance
*To restart