Songstress
by Michael R. Burch

for Nadia Anjuman

Within its starkwhite ribcage, how the heart
must flutter wildly, O, and always sing
against the pressing darkness: all it knows
until at last it feels the numbing sting
of death. Then life’s brief vision swiftly passes,
imposing night on one who clearly saw.

Death held your bright heart tightly, till its maw—
envenomed, fanged—could swallow, whole, your Awe.

And yet it was not death so much as you
who sealed your doom; you could not help but sing
and not be silenced. Here, behold your tomb’s
white alabaster cage: pale, wretched thing!

But you’ll not be imprisoned here, wise wren!
Your words soar free; rise, sing, fly, live again

Keywords/Tags: Nadia Anjuman, Afghanistan, Afghani poet, poetess, death, martyr, hero, heroine, voice, freedom, equality, justice

Untied shoelaces,
Untied heart,
Her words flowing freely from
Her mind,
Her black boots tapping a rhythm
Known only to
Her.
Her eyes bloomed like
Orchids
When she blinked,
And her chocolate fountain hair
Spilled over her gray graphic tee,
The messy bun
Unraveling
As her thoughts slowly
Unraveled
Themselves onto the page.

Her creamy chocolate hair
Flows down into caramel,
And the ends tickle her rosy lips
As she bites them in concentration.
Her Ticonderoga taps anxiously on her cheek,
And the wheels turning in her head;
Almost visible.
Maroon sweater against ivory shoulder,
Caramel hair against a black bra strap.
When she talks, the room melts away
And all that is heard is her accent,
The way she creates music with her phrases.
Her smile radiates sunshine,
And her eyes are a kaleidoscope,
Always changing,
Green and gray and amber specks
Colliding to make a sweet mosaic.
Poetry girl,
The universe can’t wait to hear
Your words.

Hush.
I used to think you were Godly.
I used to think you were velvet.
I used to think you were perfect.
Shh.
You’re nothing now.
Silence.
You’re pathetic now.
You’re only a feeble boy playing God.
You’re only a quaint thing pretending to be holy.

I used to worship you.
I used to pray to you.

But now you pray to me.
“Oh poetess God.”
Now you worship me.
“Oh sweet Holy One.”
And don’t you dare forget it.

Amigos,
What are we
doing here anyway
Are we seriously
going to write
some poetry
to save the world
Or not so seriously
to save ourselves
Either way
Let’s get to it

©  2019 Jim Davis

Parched lips sip at the rejoice of true love
Sheltering unto the embarks of greatness;
A beautiful journey- oblivious to heartbreak.
Intrigued by gleamy eyes, wet from crying-
Tears for hoax love,
The heart shatters at the sight of each tear drop
One kiss my dear and all pain shall go away.
There was something about the way he smiled
The way his body flexed with each move,
O how divine!
But it wasn't just his body i liked, it was his soul
Or atleast that's what i thought too.
Took me long to know of his deceitful facade;
And his false love
He was not what he claimed to be
He was but a monster in disguise, a true depiction of what we call a casanova.