Mara W Kayh: Favorites

Sep 2018 Mara W Kayh

Shofi Ahmed

Glowing bright in the dark
is the moon the half of the sun!

The sun from the heavenly blue
colour in the midday rose to bear the light
and basks into the other half of the night.

Goodness knows when but God willing
the ancient bird of time once will fly.
Numbering the numberless stars
filling the one halve the half of the sky!

Maybe each star is a shining piece
of one half cut halve that's yet to reunite.
As the cream always rises to the top
and God promised the believers paradise.

Perhaps then without cutting in a fraction, once
paradise is packed with the folks of the good ones
there will be no more partial decimals of the pi!

I wonder then how will it look, a full moon picture?
If then the forever intact paradise lends a mirror
of the ‘immanent feminine’ In Shaa Allah
God willing that will still be my better half!

I have to admit that I was only able to write the conclusion having a clue from my better half. Only the woman knows the depth of the enduring feminine mystery that they possess. That has a lot to do with nature and a primitive reason for the man's attraction towards the woman.

#allah #god #woman #better #half #moon #sun #light #night #paradise

Sep 2018 Mara W Kayh

Drifter's Note

Sep 2018 Mara W Kayh

Bijan Rabiee

Drifter's Note

Hop on a train to nowheres
Where no kindred souls reside
And you shall find ebbing cares

Get away and defrost
Your turbin of independence
And electrify soul's ******

Leave and don't look back
Your hut is an allocated rut
An ever-widening crack

You are born free of chains
A roving verve of stardust
Exploring firmament's veins.

Sep 2018 Mara W Kayh

Love in a Ghost Town

Sep 2018 Mara W Kayh

Sharon Talbot

Love in a Ghost Town

At first the air seems too dry;
Then you see the mist --
A small town on the horizon;
You decide to ride on,
And give Father's headstone a last kiss.

You find yourself wondering why
Anyone would stay here.
Some of those who passed before
Left their mark on rotten doors
Memories strangely dear.

Love's a gamble in a ghostly town;
It could move you, swift or slow.
You unholster your heart,
Wonder when the shooting will start,
But you already know.

Dozens to go and only one down,
Riding through a town of slaughter,
You're both alive and dead,
Mute bullets whistle by your head:
Are you a killer or a daughter?

He was here once, before you knew
About the emptiness outside.
Still you followed him.
His face was harsh and grim.
And he told you to leave or hide.

Love that's cold, deadly and true
Is the easiest and hardest kind.
You can **** him or just love him;
You'll never know much else of him,
But he’ll never leave your mind.

Dawn bursts over the sharpest peak
And the town streets fill with gold;
It’s the only kind this place will ever see.
You know that soon, you and he
Will shoot each other or fold.

Yet, love in a ghost town always dies,
Killed before it can start.
Spanish ladies even now wear mourning veils
And the lovesick couples' faces pale
When you shoot each other through the heart.

Partly inspired by The Lady or Ellen of “The Quick and the Dead” and the violence of passion--especially that which happens internally.

#love #ghost #town #shootout #passion #violence #death #desert

Sep 2018 Mara W Kayh

In My Craft Or Sullen Art

Sep 2018 Mara W Kayh

Dylan Thomas

In My Craft Or Sullen Art

In my craft or sullen art
Exercised in the still night
When only the moon rages
And the lovers lie abed
With all their griefs in their arms
I labour by singing light
Not for ambition or bread
Or the strut and trade of charms
On the ivory stages
But for the common wages
Of their most secret heart.

Not for the proud man apart
From the raging moon I write
On these spindrift pages
Nor for the towering dead
With their nightingales and psalms
But for the lovers, their arms
Round the griefs of the ages,
Who pay no praise or wages
Nor heed my craft or art.

Sep 2018 Mara W Kayh

Haiku threesome

Sep 2018 Mara W Kayh

Bijan Rabiee

Haiku *******

A fleet of Moon's spears
Swoop down on shadows of night
Like silver dragons

A ****** of crows
Rupture the sky asunder
Devoid of mercy

People scatter IFs
In the most fertile farmland
They refuse to grow

Sep 2018 Mara W Kayh

As we walk

Sep 2018 Mara W Kayh

Dimitrios Sarris

As we walk

Their songs warmed our hearts
but now are echoes in the wind.
As they fell for songs of war
they fought in grace as they
faced death in cold black nights.

With pride and not guns
they gave their fight
with songs and broken wings
made their stand
together in a grey path.

May the ghosts of our fallen
keep you company.

Sep 2018 Mara W Kayh

That night

Sep 2018 Mara W Kayh

Dimitrios Sarris

That night

Our voices covered the silence of the night.
Just me and a beautiful woman talking
about our vivid lives. The road is getting
darker, the moonlight could shed little light.
She tightly grabbs my arm and kisses me with
her soft red lips. No words could be spoken as
i lose myself to the pleasures of her kiss.
I responded "I am not a man who mistreats
a lady for a night's satisfaction."
She replied "I know, i can feel it. But what would you
do for a woman in need. In need of your love,
of your caress, of your kiss?"
We drove our way back to my house.
Her beautiful green eyes could see within my heart
and her passionate kisses fill my lips and tongue.
I lose the sense of time as our warm breaths become
a cool breeze to our throbbing bodies.
She holds me tight as i lay her upon the soft sheets,
gently she kisses my neck and lets me slide down to fountains
of pumping milking beats, ******* her healing liquids like honey drops.
Slowly i enter the altar of her lustful ventricles
becoming one as we press into silken gist
and break open as her skin brushes like silk.
She holds me tight with her angelic body as i permeate
deeper when oceans of liquid lava burst at the white sheets
of our bed and her breast ignites in slow movement
as we gasp and sigh the air around us.
She holds me tight to take in a river that will
quench her thirst, licking heavens milk that covered the secret
spaces that our kisses marked.
She holds me till the sun rises to put an end to this salacious sin.
She holds my hand and crowls her way back to me. Back to my craving heart, back to our prurient desires.

A bold release of trapped emotions. We had to break up cause of our age
difference (she was older) and i just wanted to prevent her from getting hurt in the future.
Breaking up for something usual hurts but when you have to break up
cause the circumstances of life itself block us
is a different quality of pain. I know that is happy now...
Wishing happiness and joy to the troubled hearts
out there.

Sep 2018 Mara W Kayh

Thank you

Sep 2018 Mara W Kayh

Dimitrios Sarris

Thank you

Heart woven from world's greatest thread
with passionate beat
a donor of love
a donor of kindness
a donor of strength
a titaness of life
which warm tears shine
of love even in gloom.
A goddess of compassion
a soul with passion.
My heart fills with gratitude
my soul fills with love.
Thank you!
Thank you for you might be the
best of us all.
If more people were like you
this world would be a merrier place.
Thank you.

Sep 2018 Mara W Kayh

Housewife

Sep 2018 Mara W Kayh

Aishwarya Ruchi Srivastava

Housewife

Lather, rinse, repeat.
Lather, rinse, repeat.
Soak, wash, repeat.
Sweep, sweep, repeat.
Wipe, wipe, repeat.
Scrub, scrub, repeat.
Dice, dice, repeat.
Wipe, dry, repeat.
The tears that are good.
Pour, stir, repeat.
Open the door.
Serve the food.
Greet, greet the guests.
Smile, talk, repeat.
Say bye-bye, repeat.
Massage, press, repeat.
Yelp in pain.
Grab your abdomen.
Rub, press, repeat.
Let the sari unwrap.
Shake your head no.
Oh oh.
Run, hide, cry, plead.
Rub your stinging cheek.
Sob, sob, repeat.
Dab, dab, repeat.
The tears that are deserved.
Press your straining scalp.
Grab tight the bed sheet.
Groan, hiss , repeat.
Fake, fake, repeat.
Pain, pain.
Again!
Sore, sore, all over.
Go make a drink and then,
Massage, press, repeat.
Pick up the nephew.
Ignore the daughter’s lies.
Pat, pat repeat.
Put him down to sleep.
Sing the lullabies.
See your daughter writhe.
Writhe, writhe, repeat.
Kiss your daughter’s hand.
Feel her skin burning.
Watch your daughter weep,
Cry herself to sleep.
One drop down then two.
The tears that are meaningless.
Lie down as if asleep.
Twist, turn, repeat.
Wake up before dawn.
Now, you put on.
Red, green, black and gold.
Vermillion, bangles, beads.
Lather, rinse, repeat.

Here is a little introduction to the lives of most housewives in India.

#feminism #pain #domesticviolence #maritalrape #girlhood #womanhood #woman #india #girls #housewife