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 May 2019 Farheen Khan
emnabee
The poet lives two lives.
One on the outside,
And one in their mind.

When you look in their eyes
You could see an abyss.

If you looked long enough
You could sink into it.

But most people don’t see it.

Take the time to read the words, though,
And you would know for sure.

The poet lives in two different worlds.
A little escape from the madness.
Or maybe, into.
Sleeping in a silent forest
night sky come and swallow me whole
I promise I won't protest
These stars may fill my tired soul
And these trees, oh, how I love thee
Lush and green, dark and eerie
This is where I long to be
Here is where I'd never be weary
I put my life onto the earth
Dig myself a hole for a bed
This is where lies all lifes worth
Here everything is, I miss nothing I haven't had

Roots may pervade me, leafs shall cover
And in my stead another will grow
I will dissolve in the arms of my last lover
And of all misfortune it will never speak nor will it show

On new branches my soul will hang
until another
 Mar 2019 Farheen Khan
Erian Rose
last night I found
myself in a different place
everything had changed
I didn’t know the difference

the night was gloom
with sprinkles of light
all I saw was emptiness
all I saw was me

“Just a dream,”
they say
“Just a dream.”

How do you know
If it wasn’t reality?
You
Search for it
Strive for it
Long for it

Then
Watch it
slip
Through
your fingers
The moment
you
obtain it

Let it go
Stop
chasing it
Happieness
Will find
you
When you
find
Yourself
I wrote this poem when I was 21 I was just starting my journey to self discovery even the simple list things such as happiness can be hard to obtain I sat ponder and wondered why this is what I came up with
What is it, that I need to read
Haven’t I read it all, that I ever wanted to know
What is it that’s missing
Haven’t I written it all
Do I need to read more
To finally know
What’s left unread
The chapters that went missing
Unfinished portion of life
Partly inspired by Hindi movie, Zubaan(2015)

Listen to your inner voice
Don’t quieten  it to the din of sorrow
 Mar 2019 Farheen Khan
Erian Rose
We fall
Not wanting to let go
Remembering the moments
Where nothing meant forever

We fell
Helping our broken hearts mend
In the silence of the day
Before we dreamed back under again

We're falling
We're always falling
 Mar 2019 Farheen Khan
Lora Lee
aqua
 Mar 2019 Farheen Khan
Lora Lee
The river in me
                     exists.  
Its outflow of pour
drenches the gullies
makes moist
the sand that
graces your toes
I flow into your roots
strengthen your
                   capillaries
pump liquid gold
inside your veins
loving your flaws like
kintsukuroi
you piece me together
adorn my cracks
with powdered metals,
still loving them for
being broken
a longing
              quenched
I want you dripping
down my chin,
my thighs
when you rush through
me just like that,
the soothing aqua tempest
I have always
wished for
kintsukuroi-(“golden mend”) is the Japanese art of mending broken pottery using lacquer resin laced with gold or silver. As well as a nifty form of repair, kintsukuroi has a deeper philosophical significance. An embracing of the flawed or imperfect. Rebirth.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lIrDCot0K_o
My son, to us, you’re so very special
For reasons not just one or two!
But when you announced your arrival first
At an unexpected time and age-

Was it with joy or fear, still not so sure
That I first felt the faint stirrings of life inside
Sure, when you barged in more like a late night guest
You gifted us with a mixed pack

After eight months of anxious wait
When you showed up a little earlier than due
With a clear shriek and a piercing cry
All our fears vanished, all anxiety fled

Like a cute little kitten with eyes shut
You slept peacefully day and night
Refusing to **** your mother’s breast
That again put your mom in severe stress

You never threw any tantrums wild
As all other babies usually do
Pleasantly gentle with a chuckling smile
You were a spring flower, come alive

You readily accepted the cast away stuff;
Broken toys and milk stained bib,
Faded clothes and the little crib,
Used recklessly by your naughty brother

You never gave us any stress or pain
Even in days of adolescent strain
You were ever gentle and ready to mingle
With eyes lit up with a delectable twinkle

You are endowed with a loving heart
When we are glum, you are by our side
Your compassion, care and abiding love
Are truly gifts, God has blessed you with

You know every nook and corner of the house
Where each little thing placed and kept
If something is amiss inside the house
You run with a click and get it by trick or fluke

As you left for studies, miles away
The house looks empty like an abandoned nest
With no more songs in early dawn
Until once you return to give it a tilt

Time will fly and you’ll be grown
An adult, ready to soar into the world
But you are the reason that keeps us young
And give our tired legs an unusual spring

You lit our yesterdays with hopes for tomorrow
And even after your hairline recedes
Even after you become man and Dad
You remain once and ever our *‘Vava’ dear!
I conceived my second son at a late age. Naturally we had fears if the baby would be healthy.  But God proved our fears to be irrational.... He became our joy and has been with us through out..... a very understanding and compassionate fellow! I wrote this poem four years ago, soon after he left home for his medical studies. I got inspired to post it on seeing Kristy Renae Dalton’s poem
My (((Son-Shine)))    
‘Vava’ is a term of endearment to refer to a baby !
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