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Sep 2018 · 6.0k
The Physical Lover
Rashid Sep 2018
You bring out the Newton in me,
the sine curves that rule my pendulum-like motion,
the pi and g constants in me.

You bring out the quantum lover in me,
the particle at the two places,
the collapsing energy levels,
the n=2 in me.

You bring out the thermodynamic lover in me,
the heat transfer, the Q=mcT,
the Gay-Lussac law in me.

You bring out the collision physicist in me,
thep >0, the increased momentum in me.

You bring out the fluid dynamic lover in me,
the Lubrication theory, the buoyancy forces in me.

You bring out the projectile lover in me,
the x and y component, the gravity in me,
the Euclidean vector in me.

You bring out the physical lover in me,
let’s multiply our vectors, the cross product,
let me feel your sine curve and I’ll let you touch
all the tangents in me.
Sep 2018 · 1.5k
Some smell the aroma
Rashid Sep 2018
Some smell the sweet aroma
Of a cute boy who walked down
The street, a cup of hot morning latte
Warming his palms.

Some smell the earthy growth
Of a poisonous plant called infatuation;
Irrational, superficial, physical.

Some smell the sweaty palms
Of a writer whose days and cold nights
Have went by crafting the perfect poem
For him.

Some smell pieces of torn paper of
Decaying love, lust, disposed,
Not even consumed.

Some smell the salty tears of a
Broken heart, shattered, stepped on, thrown,
Never picked up.

Some smell the metallic scent of wounds—
A rejected boy, blood spilled, drained,
The carpet now decorated with dark carmine splatter.

Some smell—I mean,
Will he ever smell?

Some don’t smell the rotten scent of
A boy, drowned, lost in lust, who looked for love
In a lonely life littered by locked closets, lies,
Boring eyes, a fake guise.

Boy, let me smell your silky hair in bed,
Your musky sweat, sweet latte.
Your floral scent, scarf,
Your defined muscles, divine lips.

Boy, let me smell love.
Jun 2018 · 270
Etch two, Ought to
Rashid Jun 2018
I wake up to the buzz of an alarm.
The phone next me is asking for some attention.
The average attention span of a human is 10 minutes, but I don't know how that's true
When I continue sleeping till noon.

Shoot, it's 12 PM.

Lift 90 kg of organic carbon-based matter off the bed. Wait, it's my body.
Like a lifeless carcass, I drag that mass to a tile-covered room that somehow has water flowing out of a copper tube.

As I sip some water, along with 20 mg of this so-called drug fluoxetine,
I realize that I'm one atom of oxygen away from imbibing the most dreadful of chemicals.

What's even more concerning is that fact
that I'm drinking tap water.
Do you know how much chlorine the government adds
to ensure a manageable population?

Though, sometimes I wish the oxygen in the air
would react with water in my sink
to form
etch two, ought to.

And the chlorine in that faucet
would find its way to my nose
to make this lifeless carcass
of organic material
less organic.

Etch two, ought to.
Mar 2018 · 356
Bananas are green
Rashid Mar 2018
It's no coincidence that I love bananas,
what can I say? They're perfectly shaped
for the human mouth. They slide right in,
without any friction.
They taste great, but most of all,
they're green.

No, I'm not color-blind, just let me explain.
Bananas are fruits,
fruits come from trees,
trees are green,
bananas are green.

Bananas are green.
Jan 2018 · 498
God in the Closet
Rashid Jan 2018
God, you’ve spilled a cup of lies,
For my heart has found you
Hiding in a closet next door.

God, I want you to be mine,
And me to be yours but you’re
Hiding in that closet next door.

God, you’re not alone,
You’ve found yourself a lover
And a follower—though only
If you’re ready to come out
Of that closet next door.

God, you’re pure,
You’re everything I want.
From under your blonde unkempt hair
Peek hazel brown eyes shining
Like sunlight on polished stone,
Though I can’t tell you which shirt to wear
When you’re locked in that closet next door.

God, why can’t you come down?
Is anything too difficult for the Lord?
Riots of color shine after fierce storms,
So let your colors shine God—come down
And tread the sweet grounds of my heart.

God, if you’re afraid that the woman
Who kissed you goodnight would never
Kiss you again, then I say the softness of her lips
Could have been nothing but a
Luscious dream in the stormy night.

God, if you’re afraid that the man
Who taught you how to ride a bike would never
Get to teaching you how to ride a car, then I say
The joy you saw in his face came
From a hollow heart.

God, if you’re afraid of god,
Then I say God fear god not,
Because I have found God
Not in the skies—but in a boy
Hiding in a closet next door.

God, you said it,
Life is love! Love is life only!
You won’t be lone in that closet anymore
But lone in my heart, be human, get out of that
Closet next door and kiss me hard
Like a human never did before.
This poem is addressed to a crush I have whose room is next to mine.

— The End —