"alia" poems
Chapati
Hot chapati,
Cold Chapati,
Soft Chapati
Hard Chapati,
Delicious Chapati
Bad chapati
Alia makes her own chapati.....
She burns it a little at the side
Never mind ... Chapati War ends here....
"MUJHE ROTI PASAND HAI"
May 17, 2013
May 17, 2013 at 7:38 PM UTC
I was eight,
My cousin was eighteen.
He called his mother Mom
"When will I be old enough,"
I asked
"to call my mama Mom?"
Mom seemed a privilege
to be earned with age.
Eight year olds had to say
"mama" or "mommy"
I experimented with Mom
such a deliciously Western term.
I addressed birthday cards to Mom
and mother's day cards to Mom
She didn't seem to mind
so I started calling mama Mom
But the novelty wore off
and I got sick of Mom and of mom
And I wanted nothing to do with mom
so I wouldn't even call her Mom
She was Alia.
I called her by her first name
because I resented Mom and mom for loving me.
I called her Alia
She called me Daughter
a forceful reminder of the umbilical cord.
Then I went away to university,
over the Atlantic Ocean
a 14 hour plane ride away.
And I wouldn't call at all.
I wouldn't call to call her "mama" or "mommy" or Mom or even Alia.
But she would call
And she would call me Daughter
or "habibti" or "my sunshine."
And I didn't want to hear it.
I was eighteen
and I didn't need Mom.
I was gone eight months
and I didn't miss Mom
I didn't miss the Middle East
I didn't want to be home
I think She hated me for a while.
Then I was back in Toronto
University got hard
And I got tired
And I couldn't sleep
And friends proved false
And I got fat.
So I called Alia
And she stayed on skype with me, singing
Arabic Nursery Rhymes
until she saw I was asleep
And Mom watched me sleep.
But "mommy"
kept the laptop on all night
In case I woke up scared
and needed to call out for her
from across the Atlantic.
And "mama"
is at home
waiting for me
with a hug
And I just want to go back
and do it over
so I could take back every day
that I didn't call her
mommy.
Jun 18, 2012
Jun 18, 2012 at 3:54 PM UTC
As she chooses the flowers to decorate her bun
She chooses the petals, she thinks the best
She has to choose….
What would you do if you have two difficult choices to make?
What if both choices were equally important?
Whether to just ignore your people and lead your own life?
Or …to follow your dad’s footsteps and lead the country?
It was hidden in Aung San Suu Kyi’s life
She only had two choices to make and she finally made her choice
But she was kept in her house all alone
by the cruel Burmese military for so many years
But she still chose to save her people’s life
And made her father and ancestors proud
She is happy with her choice
Not because she was caught by the military
It is because she is one brave lady
The lady Aung San Suu Kyi has made the choice of her life,
Jun 9, 2013
Jun 9, 2013 at 5:05 AM UTC
Tantum tempus temporis
quoniam aliena femina in meo cubiculo dormivit;
ecce illi quantum dulce somnus est.
Quanta etiam libera somnia sunt.
In alia aetate mundum certe rexit
vel optimo regi in matrimonio fideliter ducta est
qui iuxtus flumen psalmos luce lunae scripsit.
**** me iri foras egressum et spatiatum
Nihil occurit hic, nihil umquam fit.
Praeterea si incedat iam volat me narrare;
habeo nihil, praecipue erga quicquid erat.
Viam cepi aviam
qua celeres non superant;
dignis praemia sunt
qui verbum veritatis distinguere possunt.
Hospes solus me docere potuit
praeclaram orem iustitiae contemplari
et videre oculum pro oculo, et dentem pro dente.
Nisi duo homines in mansionem,
Est nullus in viso; verem exspectant,
proinde quasi ver plaustro accederet.
Mundus deleretur ea nocte
sed meae amicae aequum esset;
illa meo cubiculo dormiret *** revenirem.
Meridiano me promoveo
adhuc in obscura parte viae;
in angustos corruere
et constans manere non possum.
Alius mea ore dicit
sed solum meo animo audit,
calcas omnibus etiam tibi feci
quibus tamen careo.
Ego et ego
In creatione quo ingenium alicuius
nec alicui ignoscit nec excolit.
Ego et ego
unus alteri dicit nullus et videre
imaginem meum et vivere possit.
From "Bird's Nest In Your Hair" by Brian Jobe
May 21, 2017
May 21, 2017 at 10:03 PM UTC
You were tiny when I brought you home
I vowed to give my all to you
And keep you in my life
I have you now as my best friend;
My best companion
The voice in my head
A gentle reminder always!
I started to realize
That every time I look at you
I see my eyes in you,
my daughter's eyes...
Jun 14, 2013
Jun 14, 2013 at 3:01 AM UTC
I find the gratification of Count Dracula inside a glass of whiskey
When I see a boy wearing blue jeans and a T-shirt
Instead of that I discover him dressed in bark of the Paleolithic period
The green top of a damsel looks like a cinder which is burnt by a severe conflagration
I feel global warming into an avalanche
I explore the revenge of Satan in the vision of a young man who has come to Massachusetts for higher studies
I experience a pit of black hole in conspicuous stars
Inter alia,
The variegated notions of metaphysics come to the deep observations.
Aug 1, 2021
Aug 1, 2021 at 1:58 AM UTC
***** holding it ?
How are they holding it?
Why are they doing such ?
Maybe to break world records
He can hold breath ten minutes
Shall I go for ten and one ?
Eminem ; breathless ; HELL yeah-a
Rap god and Godzilla-a
Some holding breath before making decisions
And most of em holding to not to cry
After their wrong decisions
(Two strangers)x2
Friends and best friends
In love but holding breath
She’s waiting if he proposes first
And he ; doing the same
Today is his result day
He is holding his breath
Bowing in front of god
Saying this time give me B+
Atheist before
But in fear realized god
Alia father is going to give her surprise
She is holding breath
Is that make-up box , iphone or scent made up of wine ?
Neighbor uncle working in field
Holding the breath
Hoping sun will be shielded
By the cloud and will rain
Meanwhile,
People in the street
Holding the breath
Hoping it won’t rain
Until they reach home
All are holding
I am not holding for him
He is not holding for her
She is not doing such for em
But all doin’ the same !
Jun 6, 2020
Jun 6, 2020 at 3:33 AM UTC
Always a ray of sunshine to people
Loving to your heart's maximum capacity
Interesting and creative poems
Amazing inspiration for living life
Alia, you're bubbly as champagne
Like you've never let anything get you down
In all honesty, you're the cheeriest person ever
And you make everyone's day so much better
Dec 12, 2016
Dec 12, 2016 at 12:22 AM UTC
Et alia
Everything happens for a purpose
The first glance
The first touch
The first kiss
Sometimes in life God
adds a person in your life
that changes your life
significantly
It amazes me how many times
one can wake up
and the first thoughts
that come to mind
is about that person
You constantly think about
the first glance that occurred
the first touch you both felt
the first kiss you both shared
It makes you wonder how
it is possible
that God could allow you
to be with some one
so amazing
I wonder
That is why I try to cherish every moment I can get
Every glance that can occur
Every touch that I can feel
Every kiss that we both share
I just can't take little things for granted
Like saying happy birthday
"God gave us the gift of life, it is up to us to give ourselves the gift of living well." Voltaire
Apr 3, 2014
Apr 3, 2014 at 1:49 PM UTC
Dear ...
Yours is a post PhD thesis and sets us thinking about what life is but definitions are relative and subjective as philosophy and morality is not science--more by way of speculation and hypothesising. Truth is sui generis--we de-sanctify it by claiming we know it but it stands askance.
I would look at life in awe and in recognition of the limits of my own understanding, also in acknowledgement of my lack of maturity and perspicacity ---I shall not pre-empt bur rather live a day at a time-if lucky enough, I might learn to know a bit, just a tiny bit more ,of myself and my relation to life.
I do not need to have an answer to life's mysteries, complexities, nuances or its contradictions as my happiness and wellbeing does not rest on knowledge--I would deem myself lucky to have some oblique insight--to be able to see a moment in its intrinsic state is quite enough--though it is not enlightenment, a new consciousness would have dawned upon me as what was reflected by Blake in his AUGURIES OF INNOCENCE.
Whether life has meaning or not is definable only by personal experience, stripped of external influences or the ranting of writers and philosophers---it is the perennial 'I' and 'Life' that is the crux.
Existentialism is but a lonely and isolated way of looking at life and might be better suited for Western thinking in its vague and dubious search for answers to living unlike the Eastern which seeks to live in harmony with the self and the universe. As such, the West is Yang and the Eastern, Yin--the former involves struggle of the self, the latter is strife-free in its benign acceptance, acquiesce, humility, compassion and subjugation of the ego and not over-doing or over-achieving. That the West is bending more and more towards Zen, Taoism and Buddhism clearly shows a sharp shifting of thinking in espousal of Eastern wisdom.
Love is more real than life as it impinges upon me in my relation to those whom I love and also in my knowing I am loved in return.
It is not an abstraction like life or truth.
What shall save me at the end is not understanding nor knowledge
but rather in recognising I am but a ripple in the limitless vastness of the sea of life and my acceptance of such.
Do I make sense, dear Master?
My IN THE FOOTSTEPS OF ZEN--THE PATH TO A CALMER AND HAPPIER LIFE (published by Brolga Publishing, Melbourne) is on sale in 14 countries under Lim-- for rating vide Lim Sing AbeBooks, et al.
It mentions, inter alia, existentialism, Camus and Sartre
with my deep esteem.
Aug 8, 2020
Aug 8, 2020 at 11:59 PM UTC
Female, male, novi-, pan-, trans-, cisgender,
questioning, agender, non-gender, alia! inter! apora!
andro, bi!
chuckchi ne'uchika, guevedoche,
maverique, winkte,
xanith...and approx 60 others.
When list is done, perhaps we can finally just be
Jun 15, 2022
Jun 15, 2022 at 10:00 PM UTC
Sunlight filters through the branches
As warm air following the cold
Hisses at the leaves
And mingles with the half-heard voice
Of a not-too-distant neighbor.
An occasional bird-call
Keeps time with a squirrel’s jerky progress;
A dog sighs and briefly imitates the trees.
And slowly in this tranquillity
Comes a sense of recovery
Last night’s excesses, felt viscerally
These past several hours, turn
To a contented glow in the afternoon sun.
Inner trembling starts to feel
Controlled. And less visible.
Breathing deeply, tasting at last
The warm freshness of the clean air
As it permeates, so softly, the tortured frame,
The gutted pores, the brutalised organs
Of this body.
Time now, too, for the mind, busily
Analyzing complaints for all this while,
To feel some ease
No more pumping
Frantic aid to disturbed ampullae;
No longer succouring the fevered nerves
Or fighting for a woolly lobe’s attention.
Now comes that ease and relaxation,
Long fought for and hard won.
Now the battle is over and with minimal casualties,
Now reason takes over and forward progress
Can be seen clearly in the mind’s eye.
Now once again the saliva flows sweetly
To the abused palate.
Now the rasping throat is
Pacified.
And one succumbs to that sense of
Pastoral anticipation
As the brain
And the spleen
And the bile
And the liver
And, inter alia, the noble ascending colon
All agree
Now is the time
Now the blessed moment
Now
We can begin again.
Set ‘em up.
Sep 14, 2016
Sep 14, 2016 at 6:24 PM UTC