The mounds of my sit bones
press firmly into the soil
Grass dampens me with mud-
moist from the water
just a few more feet down

The Queen sat alone in her throne,
Drapes drawn across the window,
Sputtering candle flame by her side,
She sat there holding her heart in her hand,
Looking down she could see the veins are bruised
The colours red and blue had turned into a pale complexion,
Tears fell down her cheeks,
She starred up to see a red tapestries hanging above her bed,
The design on the tapestries was beautiful scenery,

The Queen remembered when she received the tapestries,
It was a gift from a sailor of the sea,
Each month he would come knocking on her door,
Sit down by her thrown and tell her of his adventures,
The Queen longed for those stories from the Sailor,
As she was unable to leave her castle to see the beautiful lands,

One day,
The Sailor had left her a gift,
He told her he would be going for a long trip,
He may not return for a while,
Queen took a deep breathe,
As she knew this might be the last time,
The Sailor insisted for the Queen to look at the tapestries,
To remind her of how beautiful the world can be

Think the saddest thing about this land
Is how hard it tries to live
To hold, to let go— how it
Stills in the middle of a catastrophe
How it sings
Only when no one’s about to hear
How its silence
Is never wholly true

How the clouds go by
And the suns
The crescents grow up and pass
And people—
Yet it, shuddering, remains
And how it struggles
To weave peace out its
Wavering fields

And ever-dancing cities—
The dance of a Persian woman
In shackles
How it slaughters its own flowers
In search of their seeds
How it breaks apart
In the middle of a night
In the middle of a little girl’s question
In the middle of a smile

How the maidens
Keep on hanging their dresses to dry
And children keep hunting
For helpless worms
And snows melt into grasses
Till they too sail away
Yet it, shuddering, remains

How it will gnaw away the town
It carved itself
Feast upon its own beautiful bones
How hard it struggles to stir
In its own queer death
And how it will wither
And wither, and wither
And not tire—

It is its own hateful god.

This land, foreign, yet so welcoming
Who would've known
I would own land
halfway across the world
from the homes of my ancestors
or rather,
this land would allow me to borrow it
prosper from it
and make it my home

Trees sway to the melody
of a warm summer breeze
Chirping birds and bubbling streams
the harmony
And I, simply another passing traveller
In the eternal life of this land

Who was here
100, 500, 1000 years ago?
Who knew this land
like the palms of their love?
Who sat here,
as I do now,
eyes closed
taking in the music of this land
soul at peace
knowing it was home?

This land, my new home,
and so, so welcoming

A nation is not of land nor borders, nor people
Israel dispersed and vanished, Jews remain
Mongols destroyed, yet the land is Ishmael's
Once there were seventy nations, today only one

I've been thinking hard
About every single card
Since we became dangerously unstable
We decided to put our cards on the table
Like a bridge in a prelude
I've come to conclude...
You truly love me, do you not?
I'm unsure if it's a little or a lot.


But despite how and what you feel
You've decided to take and steal
I've tasted of rejection
Instead of true affection
I have been abandoned and let down
Just because you were born in this town
You are cruel for pushing away my offered hand.
All in the name of patriotism and love for your land.


Your cruelty is birthed from your innocence
And unknowingly, around you, you've built a fence.
You don't know how much it scratches and stings
To feel you plucking and playing on my heartstrings
But the worst is that you have no idea or clue
About the harshness I always receive of you


So I've come to see
That we can not be
You love your homeland much more
Than me, who's not here forevermore
And you are unwilling to find a compromise
Therefore, our relationship is facing its demise
And although this makes my heart hurt and static
From the very beginning, you've been a fanatic

I took the plunge into your sea.
Oh, you know what?
I am now hooked forever
on its colourless colour.

******* out a cloud-bubble.
Black or white, it doesn’t matter.
Sprinkle some drops
in your pious colourless style.
Watch, it shines and sizzles
in renewed hues
across the land and over the blooms.
Still, in the end, remains a potion,
an intact drop:
The untouched ocean down the moon!

near you
everything is purple
near you
all things are beautiful
near you
the sky gets downward
I can collect the stars
And put them as necklace
Which become wonderful
As the reflect your shine
And the sun get smile
As she tries to get your
Smile
Near you
The land becomes green
The peace covers every where
The birds sing one song
Contain a word
You
And your name