Javaria Waseem

Javaria Waseem Jan 2015

Desperate and drunk, I walked into a mosque for shelter
But the bearded men kicked me out from the stairs.
I got back on my feet and laughed as I asked God,
"Are you not mine and only theirs?"

Jan 2015

Simpleton

Not My Islam

A bright pink head scarf reveals my position not allowing a disguise.
Piercing eyes set me alight
as you stare me down,
pinched by curious frowns
surrounded with whispering tensions.
Shame floods my pores and drowns me in accusations,
Lowering my gaze
anger courses through my veins
At the disgusting disgrace
of my kind.
Their moments of inhumanity, striking nations with tragedy and a horror stricken pain to the Muslim name.
Islamaphobia fame has spurted to tame and it cannot be held to blame,
For sick
T W I S T E D
individuals have stained and hate filled memories remain.
This is not my Islam!
I dare to mention
My heart along with yours
weeps for the innocence lost,
the heartbroken families left behind and the fearful scarred onlookers who survived.

Javaria Waseem Jan 2015

A new start

The cup of coffee is still warm
With stains of red lipstick.
Drops of ink are still fresh,
Splattered on the pages
Of my diary which is now,
Just a reminder of the past.
Sometime past midnight it is,
Time for a new start.

Javaria Waseem Dec 2014

The Mad Artist

The red drops of blood sat there on the white crystals, creating a master piece worth sharing in a museum.
The artist stood nearby holding the dagger that served as a paint brush to paint those beautiful strokes. And like every artist, he signed his art work but by his ****** fingerprints.
Her dead body was frozen underneath the layers of the snowfall that kept her warm.

He turned her into an undiscovered art.

Javaria Waseem Dec 2014

The wine from paradise

Even the stars were burning with envy that night
as I tasted the heaven off your lips.
The fragments traveled down my throat
like wine; bitter yet sweet.
feeding the butterflies that were long dead.
The stars witnessed as we sealed off our bond
by stealing kisses before the sun could rise up again.

#wine #kisses #friendship #heaven

Dec 2014

Mehma Kunwar

Peshawar Attack

Tears vanish from my lids
When i think of those favoured kids
Whom those beasts thought as dead
Coloured in the bruises of red
No matter how much their guns strived
They still, are alive. (3:169)

I belong to an APS the one which got attacked and I'm not scared. We are Pakistanis and our blood maybe cheap to you but not cold.
141: Never forget, never forget.