I am sewing a dress
with the thread of strength,
And knots of ambitions,
And when it’s ready,
Then will iron it
with the remission,
I am sewing my broken soul!

By: Nida Mahmoed.

The sun slowly came down;
And the ocean aroused;
To welcome him with open arms.
Her waves danced in glee
Waltzing with the sunlight,
Athwart the depths of sea.
He comes down to meet her
Every day, as it ends.
And the ocean, upon spotting him,
Turns red while it blush.
I stood there on the beach,
Witnessing their union.
Rejoicing as they meet
The groom & his woman

© by Ruman Hafsa

I want to believe in a world
Where ashes do not go back to ashes,
Where dust will not go back to dust,
Or into the bones
Of oblivion.

I want to believe in a world
Where hats would drop off
When the artist speaks,
Or sows together pieces
Of melancholy and precision.

Yes, I want to believe in this perfect world
Where a thought can be bought
For more than a penny,
But for a whole
Golden mine.

This world is both yours and mine,
So please believe in it,
So we can stop beating around the bush
When it comes to you and me
And art.

I am surrounded by a desolate landscape
Atop a tower of varying height
In a world bereft of power
No warmth, no cold
To feel in the sun's lake.

I stand atop a tower
Surrounded by a distance limited
No sound
No movement,
And yet
The rush of wind
Resounding in my mind.

I stand atop a tower
My body floating on its roof's midst
I stand atop a tower
Of height appearing small
And yet
I cannot bring myself to leap.

What is it that I want?
Staying atop this tower
What is it that I want?
Feeling naught
But the rampant silence
What is it that I want?
Is that a question I even want to answer?

I like my coffee black
I like my liquor clear
I like my women green
And my truck so blue
I like my lakes that way too
I like little white lies
Brown boots with chartreuse ties
I like redheads
And yellow cake
with cream frosting
And my oranges orange
and tangerine dreams
I like purple mouthtains
Full of silver majesty
As a golden sun goes down .
And girls in pink
That wink

it's like I'm playing 'doctor' with myself
telling me that "this won't hurt a bit."
I guess that I'm not lying to myself
I don't know if it hurts to quit

no experience--sometimes you really only get one shot
no, not a shot, too messy--this is a chance
but  I hope I've tied a good one
like one try on your first shoe-tie, and then having to dance

it's a tad nippy out the windowsill
the rope is so languid in my hands
it looks just like my neck probably will
but pondering is not what this demands

a nice rope, not too fat, too thin
although, a little itchy, adjust it some
it's funny I still care about itchy
it's funny that I can't go numb

Hello
I have a request for you
or a favour if you will
I need an advice
from someone like you
but then I guess I could ask anyone
Still
do you mind?
do you have a minute?
a minute to spare I mean
for someone like me
but then again a minute for anyone
Well
I hope you do
but I guess you’re busy
who isn’t these days?
we rush to live
and keep running around in circles
Oh
did you hear?
they won again
and the others lost
curious huh?
and here I thought it’ll be different this time
Now
excuse me
it seems I’m delirious
I felt different for a while
nevermind, though,
it’s all gone now, all back to normal
Right
my question
I almost forgot
see, I’ve lost something
something important to me;
I seem to have lost myself in the crowd
Once
I looked around
And I couldn’t find my shadow
between all the same people
I blended in with the crowd
and I think I wasn’t the only one
Thanks
for your help
(help us, will you?)
we all need to find ourselves
but hurry up before we all
lose our shadows and become one