Manny

Manny Mar 2014

"You jump, I jump
Remember"

Clinging on for dear life
Too scared to look up
Or look down
I concentrate on your terrified eyes the tears streaming down your face
"Look at me"
"Trust me"
"Give me your hand"
"I'll never let you go"
Whispering soothing words and giving you the hope to leap
"I can't do it, I can't jump"
"Yes you can - you trust me, don't you?"
"Yes"
I grip your hand tight
You scream
And scream
And scream
We're flying now
"I've got you"
"Sshh..it's ok - it's over, we did it"
I cup your face and gaze with pride in my eyes
"You did it"

"You jump, I jump
Remember"*

This is the Leap of Faith.

© Maniba Kiani 28/2/14. 20:27
Written after the 'leap of faith' experience I had at Kingswood in Doncaster with my closest friend. <3

Manny Feb 2014

A woman's heart

A woman's heart is a deep ocean of secrets.
She cries floods of tears and confronts her fears,
Yet she's labelled weak.
Weak, because she cries - or because she lies?
Because she actually cares or because she's just softhearted?
Yet - a woman is strong - if she cries
She portrays her emotions. She doesn't hold back.
Yet - when she's silent or doesn't show emotion -
She's weak.
Too weak to let out the pain? Or too strong to hold it in?

(To be continued)

I started working on this piece (13/11/13) and haven't had a chance to complete it. I explored the stereotypes that women have for each other and for themselves. Suggestions are always welcome.
© Maniba Kiani

Manny Feb 2014

These are just some of my insecurities

I'm fat and I'm ugly
My nose is way too short and way too stout
I have way more than a 'few' spots
My cheeks are like tomatoes
My double chin has an extra layer of fat
I have bingo wings
My thighs are just horribly massive
My fingers are pear shaped
I have moon feet
My stomach resembles dough being rolled
I hate looking like a packet of open biscuits
These are just some of my insecurities.

23/2/14
When your self loathing crawls up your throat in the middle of the night...
© Maniba Kiani

Manny Feb 2014

Untitled

The acrid smoke burns my throat
Polluting my lips,
My tongue,
Leaving behind a trail of bitterness
Down my oesophagus.
I feel the ash rising in my lungs
Hot, acidic, molten;
I draw in breath -
Coughing -
Inhaling -
Exhaling.
Exchanging my thoughts for those poisonous fumes
That dance in my air passage
Each breath feels like a release
As each ash particle falls and forms a clenched fist
Around my black lungs.

23:20 21/2/14
( © All rights reserved - Maniba Kiani)

Manny Feb 2014

Cry

Cry, cry as much as you want,
don’t stop till your eyelashes
are dry and until the mascara
isn’t on your face.
Cry till your cardy is soaked
up – wring it out – cry some
more.
Cry till your nose ceases to run
and you’re all blown out.
Cry till your eyes are dry
and your tear ducts are
no longer functioning.
Cry till you can’t cry no more...
and then...
Vow that you will never cry for the same reason ever again...

Thursday 26th September 2013 20:53 ( © All rights reserved - Maniba Kiani)
Sometimes I don't agree with the last line...
This poem was inspired by Jasmina Siderovski --> this is her poem:

It’s good to cry, cry as much as you like,
Cry it out and cry some more until
there are tears no more.
When you are done laugh a little
And find some hope to remember
the goodness in your life. The hope
that God understands and appreciates
the most.
Then it is only then you will find the
Strength to carry you through a river of
tears.

~ Jasmina Siderovski

Manny Feb 2014

Take my hand

Take my hand
And we'll run away
To someplace better than Olympus,
Take my hand
And we'll be free
We'll start a new life together,
Take my hand
And we'll find a place
We can call home,
Take my hand
And we'll cut off our hair
We'll be new people,
Take my hand
And we'll change our names
I can be 'sorry' and you can be 'it's fine'
Take my hand
Don't be afraid to take the risk,
Just take my hand.

Written 12/02/14
A poem about the 'American dream' that I share with my best friend. We want to escape and just be free, we have so many plans for our future...even though 'plans' is all it ever will be because life is not like a story book and real life has no happy endings.

©Maniba Kiani

Manny Feb 2014

Ambrosial

Your face would make the angels weep,
And Satan lose his stride.
Your tears could fill the oceans,
Now, you cannot, cannot hide.