"ayesha" poems
One day we will recover
And time will erase time
One day u will discover
One day you'll shine
You'll learn to trust the world again
you'll learn to let go
Dance freely in the rain
hope for A non-boring tomorrow.
Let the past go finger by finger,
You'll make it hurt, but alive.
The memories wont hurt when u remember.
You'll learn to live rather than survive.
Its upto u to make the change,
Because people will come n people will go.
Nothin will ever remain the same
Dwelling in the past will hurt u more.
In the end nothing will matter,
Except for the memories u share.
Because people u Love may leave,
but wen u need them they will Somehow be there.
You'll learn to be urslf again
Smile a lil more.
life is free, do as u please.
Adventure is waitin at ur door.
you'll realize u dont need the wands or magic
For The sparkle , the fairy dust is already there.
Life in ur hands is a journey,a voyage,
Let go of the past n sail without a care.
You're the captain of the ship,
the vast sea is all yours.
Take a chance n taste different fishes,
fear not,the past,the future will never be lost.
You'll see when u open your heart n let all the memories flow,
You'll realize,your THE captain jack ayesha-o.
U can make life as crazy as u can,
these memories will One day make u glow.
You'll Stop searching for the same safe land.
One day you'll realize all u needed was a new telescope.
Where ever u may set sail to.
no matter what changes or happens
remember,ur crew will b right beside u.
Their voices forever ringing
"aye aye captain"
Dec 29, 2014
Dec 29, 2014 at 2:22 PM UTC
*for my friend, the artist,
Ayesha Joy Burkey*
the answer simplest,
is there any other way?
we paint, fashion jewelry,
even human beings,
for and from
wire, stone, DNA,
and paint
our harshest critics,
ourselves,
always we busy saying,
not good enough
so South Dakota,
breathe release,
let one whom,
you have never
in flesh seen,
see you through
the ten plagues,
to a promised
answer~land
long have I searched for my
flawless poem,
knowing it my be
my next one,
each a doorway
to the next
this one,
and the
one before,
never good enough,
keep the essay going,
in fourth gear
so South Dakota,
in hot springs,
salve and be saved,
rapid city breaths exhaled,
in Jerusalem,
see the deal sealed
breathe release,
read out loud,
for hereby,
and nearby,
your voice must join me,
in this semi-silent
collaboration to make
this solo poem
into a
partnered painting
all yours,
your very own
can't you believe,
the mere question
you posing,
within,
the answer,
reposing...
The creation act,
frailties fraught,
what we design,
never good enough
but we paint on,
for the paint,
when eyes embraced,
says
*a piece of my grief
herein encapsulated,
and so on and on,
to the next,
thus it's entirety
lessened,
one step closer
to diminished
you, grief painter
right hand cunning,
me, grief writer,
lest we forget,
through our art,
that even if our
words fail
our tongue, the ears,
to comprehend,
to communicate,
to convey,
but the eyes
they,
cannot be denied,
eyes,
that have gazed upon your
painting prayer
Of course you heal,
tikun (repair) of your world,
in every brush stroke,
you answer,
sufficient,
dayenu,
and then you
Restless Painter,
ask again, and answer,
af p'aam lo maspiq,
never good enough,
and I say it once more:
can't you believe
the mere question
posing,
within, the answer,
reposing...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
*"Two small paintings are part of a number
I did as an assignment
when I went to stay with my son.
One of his OCD symptoms
is seen in a difficulty to get through doorways.
When I showed the collection of work
to my teacher she said
"do you realize you are painting open doorways?"
And indeed, the motif was there
whether abstract or realist.
Can one heal a child through paintings?
Or one's grief at being helpless to change things?"*
A.J. Burkey
Mar 23, 2014
Mar 23, 2014 at 7:54 PM UTC
**** I never knew this day would come when me and you would become one I never knew that I would feel like this when I would be in ultimate bliss I never knew that you would love me I never knew I could understand I always thought it was your fault and that you was a bad women but you came into my life and turned my thoughts around and now I know the truth behind those lies Ma I want you to know that i was never angry or mad I was always really sad, sad I didn't have you in my life sad I didn't know you sad I couldn't feel you sad I couldn't breath you sad I couldn't hold you sad just because I wasn't with you but know that the storm has passed and now Your baby girl is back so don't ever think I didn't want to meet you your heart is where i want to be I love you Forever oh dear mother of mine your my lady and I always was with you trust me I never left Love you Ayesha
May 12, 2010
May 12, 2010 at 6:49 AM UTC
Bewitch me, Ayesha, in volcanic realms
to bathe in the flames of your pillar of light
Sorceress of beauty, your power overwhelms
your enchanted incarnate, returned from the night
Ageless and timeless, in Kor once revered
Lost in your eyes, in your spellbinding gaze
Two millennia existed, now cruel and feared
by the people you’ve ruled in formidable ways
Step into the blue flames, to melt and to burn?
To give reassurance you step in the blue
caressing your body, erotically turn
Eternal life beckons in harmony with you
We bathe in the light so forever exist
Ayesha, Kallikrates ever entwined
Then time to step out, but a terrible twist
Ayesha you whither likes grapes on a vine
Your body is shrivelling, you’re turning to dust
Before me my lover gone back to the earth
Now I reincarnate forever to lust
for you to come back to me, for your rebirth
I pine for you, grieve for you, calling your name
What you failed to know of the blue fire’s curse
is that once you may enter the magical flame
but the second time all of its powers reverse.
30.12.18 JG
Dec 31, 2018
Dec 31, 2018 at 7:31 PM UTC
"QUEEN"
Black ink being spilled,
Scorching words uttered,
Soul shattered,
Emotions scattered,
She has been put down badly,
Her femininity being the only reason,
Like a warrior she fights,
For her rights,
Sprinkled upon the coal black darkness; were the twinkling stars,
Soul woven back with pearls,
Emotions with a golden thread,
Power walking like a QUEEN that she is,
Oh! She has never been so strong.
~ Ayesha Nadeem
Jun 22, 2018
Jun 22, 2018 at 10:47 AM UTC
A colourful candy bar,
Giving her warm fuzzies,
An angelic face,
experiencing a heaven sent,
A devilish face nearby with a malicious grin,
Ribboning lust in his heart,
Stepping towards a room full of toys,
Winning the child with petrol soaked perks,
**** of the door clicked,
Curtains being dropped,
The laughters altered to screams,
As a new leaf is turned,
Rapacious hold on the wrists,
Making the angel to vociferate,
Filthy hands and animalism,
Staining an innocent soul,
Carnal thirst being satisfied,
By victimising a child by libido,
Walls of the room tainted with a secret,
Childhood squirming in the corner,
Star shell wishes turning into coal,
Angels mourning,
Dolls gulping their tears,
Teddy bear covering his eyes with dismay,
A bruised piece of flesh and blood,
Stabbed from pain,
Butterfly peeking from a window,
Loses the colours of its wings,
The earth trembles terrifically,
As the sky detaches a star ! ⭐️
~ Ayesha Nadeem
Jul 27, 2018
Jul 27, 2018 at 9:28 AM UTC
Wilted jasmines look like popcorns
… that wasn’t very poetic, right?
I was just watching the bushes sway outside my window.
There is no wind today
Just the hot air breathing
I have turned on the A.C. and the fan grumbles quietly
I feel as if my heart is in my stomach
Huh.
**** it,
I really am forcing it out today..
Whatever
I rested my palm on my stomach
As Faizan’s strange playlist chattered nonsense
Outside the blanket shroud I had built
Around myself
And I could feel the beat
The rhythm
Like a drum or a gong
I don’t know why it matters to me
Maybe because I feet as if nothing else does
Right now
I know that sounds exactly like something
A sentimental teenager would say
I don’t know
I want to talk to myself
A heart-to-heart
I want to ask that *****
What is going on
What is wrong
What the **** is wrong, girly!?
I want to hear her ramble on about stuff
Be bored of her talk, but feel kind of happy
That I’m the one she’s confiding in
I wanna give her a hug
To show I don’t have words good enough for comfort
Which I probably do
But am too lazy to fish them out my gooey head
(Besides
I think the poor **** needs a hug)
I wanna zone out and nod along to her words
Just so she can let it out for once
But that bitch’s a *****
She acts tough and all smart
But she’s a sappy preteen girl inside
I say,
“Yo, Ayesha, you can cry, you know—”
And she goes,
“Yeah, I know.”
A flip of that inexistent hair
That she long ago butchered
And, bam, she gone.
She tells me
"Yo, Ayesha, you can cry too, you know?"
"I know" I tell her.
I don’t know what to do
So I lie around
Feeling this stupid ***** dance in my stomach
In my wrists
In my temples
I run my fingers down my neck,
Feeling for the echoes of the gong
That keeps talking, talking, talking
Untiring
As if calling me to my people
gathering us together for a battle
that is yet to be fought
yet to be fought—
yet to be ******* fought
And, hey, my
Money plant doesn’t even look rich
That *****
(Hey, I got a rhyme!)
May 27, 2021
May 27, 2021 at 10:14 AM UTC
The fingers began to search for a place,
To resist herself from falling,
Screaming and shaking with fear,
Baby eyes pleading for sympathy,
Stream of tears rolling down her cheeks,
A doll face strawberry swirled,
Blush turned into purple clots,
Dwindling flickers across the room,
She being knuckle sandwiched,
Bumping into a vase,
The floor littered with glass fragments ,
and the rose petals asking for life,
Life fading before her eyes,
A cold blooded hitting her like a wolf,
Puddles of crimson blood writing a story on the floor,
A fragile body panicking with fear,
Some silent moments spent,
His arms circled around her searing gift wrapped skin,
Her hair strands twirled in his fingers,
As he kissed her shoulder,
One more day spent,
A lifetime waiting ahead,
To play beauty and the beast !
~ Ayesha Nadeem
May 18, 2018
May 18, 2018 at 1:27 PM UTC
I think I let this blueness overflow a bit
Mother’s being tender again
She talks to me like a bee does
To a sleepy sunflower
And does not mention the missed classes
Does not remind me of the exams
She says to me
‘Ayesha,’ she says,
‘Ayesha, you brood too much.’
And I know mother.
And she jokes that she might have to
Burn this notebook I keep scribbling in
Because it does not make me happy
She says to me,
‘I know you’re brooding when you write
And all that writing makes you grey.’
She says she’ll have to throw it out
In the street
But I know she never will
She’s too tender
Too tender, my mother.
I think, ‘Will I have to myself then?’
And I think, ‘How many will I throw?’
And I think, and I think till the sun
goes down
But I brood when fairies are on their way
To the stars
And mother,
Why are dead things always the scariest?
Sorry, I know I’m supposed to be
Focusing on these Orbital radii
But I can’t stop, mother
The atomic structures
Keep mingling with dragons
And their pretty eyes
Mother’s being soft again
I am a little child stumbling up the hill
And she never asks me to help in the kitchen
But when I wander around
Light as a wind
She lets me chop the vegetables
I do
There goes an onion, so quiet
Chop, chop, chop
Mother, do you think if trees bled
We would still butcher them to pieces?
Chop, chop, chop
Mother, who carved this goddess out of my name?
It feels heavy now, wings mighty and huge
I can barely stand this mortality
Chop, chop, chop
Mother, does it not pain you
Seeing all the coriander dry in the pots?
The dirt that birthed it from a quiet seed could not keep it alive.
How are you so strong?
Mother, mother
It reminds me of my Morning Glories
Last year
They bloomed so happily every morning
And they’d wilt by the evening
And the next day
The slender plant would make more blooms
They kept dying, mother
All of them
On and on and
There was nothing I could do
Nothing the stems could do
I watered and watered and watered, they kept dying
Born to wither
And in the winter, when the sun wasn’t as cruel
Cold did the job
And all the leaves fell down
empty plastic wrappers, they were
And I pulled the hollow vine off the railings
We burned it that night, I and Faizan
The fire ate away what was left, and
Ate herself when nothing was
chop goes the last lamb
I sacrifice a lot to my wolves
The sparrows outside ask me why I do not talk
I do, mother, don’t I?
I talk a lot, a lot, a lot, my skin gets tired of hearing
The silence hops around the kitchen,
a mad cat
Mother wipes the heat off her forehead
The stove whispers on
‘You’re brooding again, Ayesha.’
‘Whatever, I told you it was not just the poems.’
Everything’s a poem to you, Ayesha
No mother, I’m just tired—
May 30, 2021
May 30, 2021 at 6:02 PM UTC
**~For Ayesha~
for simply put,
or
simply taken,
they’re a disguise...
eternal guards on duty,
alphabet soldiers that
grow more vigilant
standing reef,
a barrier,
a thousand years to erosion complete.
this is the right poem, but the wrong words. Mystified me, how
can this be? such a young person, whose words speak to me?
If we are not our words, what will we become?
Dec 11, 2020
Dec 11, 2020 at 10:24 AM UTC
Hey
Can I call you stardust?
Can I call you by names
That corroded.. with time's rust?
Hey
Will you remember?
Will you ever wonder
If our lives before.. were better?
Hey
What if I was less than
A human in the present?
Would I recognize us then?
Hey
Have you never felt it?
The reason we have seen this?
It is not..coincidence.
Hey
The skies are now tainted
Billion years faded
Our wait at last...Is ended.
Hey
May I sing you a layby
Have you in my cradle
And send you..To the light?
Mar 1, 2017
Mar 1, 2017 at 8:06 AM UTC