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Roberta Day Feb 2015
Warm laundry gives me the
fuzzies, makes my hands grasp
   majestic purple soaps
to cleanse away the ***** wails
compacted under fingernails
A selection of smell good things
lotions accompanied by fuzzy things
to rub away and radiate the aura
of calm, balance, and tranquility
Lavender is condusive to many
different uses, inhaling the graces
of herbal essence, soothing said coolings
inducing mood peelings of layers of grime
a skin liberative—figuratively speaking
Flowers of passion brew thoughts into actions
silent buds permeating scents
   so invigoratingly innocent
I.
My eyes are heavy in my head,
or more accurately, my lids,
but my mind is running figure-eights,
thoroughly, like fits,
and at the cross of the eight,
the little pinch, the skinny waist,
one point manifests itself to every sense,
sight, touch, smell, sound, and taste.

This one point dares consume me,
my skin condusive, tinder,
and my blood begins to boil,
and reason have I devouring to hinder?

I don't think so.
If not for the advancement of theory to fact,
for what does a man live?

Everything else is merely cobblestones
along a bridge, civility, politik, tact.
Ignore the brightened
neon agitprop I say,
and carry yourselves headlong.
Nothing else have we
on which to agree,
but on the idea to think,
this alone elevates us above
the throngs of simians,
gibbering like themselves.

Gideon himself believed in thought,
believed in product placement as well,
and with simple words this world
has onto it been wrought
with sorrow and beauty,
but of course, hell hath no fury
like an illiterate with a Bible.

II.
You might as well give her a brick,
one cannot force an entry with a book.
Nor will she, however,
understand that blatant libel,
but it's irrelevant,
as this is the last place
I'd expect her to look.

She, indubitably,
is she of good fortune,
or rather good misfortune,
or rather than rather she
of a wheel of fortune,
a wheel that seems to have
finally
stopped
spinning.

I fear now she is a victim
among victims,
perpetrated against by they
whom she had once before wronged,
and if they were arsonists,
they'd be ******' torchin',
and she certainly wouldn't be grinning.

If she has wounds,
and I'm sure she does,
or will soon get them,
she better get licking them,
because she's about to rub up
against those pillars of salt
she created looking back.

A funny thing about those pillars,
and I'm sure it's common knowledge,
they were once your friends.

Sure, I see a few tears aflowing,
but I'm **** sure its the salt in the eyes.

This carnal kernel of misogynistic
jibba-jabba came to my attention,
my attention, not because I cared too much,
but because of plain 'ol curiousity.
You see, want, and you shall recieve.
Ask, and you shall ******'
find the **** out.
Simple as that.
Now, following that logic,
and I try to do so with furiousity,
even a mental gimp'll
come to a reasonable conclusion eventually.

III.
Conflicting sides.
One can discover the truth sensually.
I believe that the ability to perceive
people's emotions is as great a gift as any.
And of course that means
one can decipher motive.
Who has motive?
Ah, to know that,
you know the perpetrator.
I discover motive sensually,
and the trail for the contractual
assailant has been had,
the jury has deliberated,
and they find GUILTY!
Oh dear lord!
Can it be true?
Yes,
and based on prior history,
it ought not come as much surprise.
One thing left to deside, of course.

The sentence.
Electrodes to nodes
and nothing bodes well
electrickery and it trickles into me
revolting and jolting
and Frankensteinlike bolting me
to the bed.

The head
this head will no longer be as free
as the thought imagining in me
while hot electrotomoty
burns me to
anonymity
and it's a pity I can't be
a less condusive entity
but the powers that be seem to have it in for me
and I am strapped to non lucidity
in the name of all humanity
don't put a shilling in the meter

Later I meet myself
in a shell of who I used to be in a picture
painted hastily
on a background
which I cannot see
and what was once no longer is or was it ever and did I once was clever too or were the words electricked through the nodes that boded ill?
Will it stay or will it go
somewhere out there
do you know
or are you waiting for the leads that lead you to electric feeds?
Can someone bring me bread and water
call my Mother
call my daughter
or like the lamb led to the slaughter
will I bleed to death?
Sharina Saad Apr 2013
The doctor walked hurriedly ....
8 hours of sweat from the labor room
On the day When I was born
The doctor announced with smiles and joy, a GIRL!!
Yes I was born a girl, BIG MISTAKE!!!
not after long...
My Daddy’s world turned upside down..
Obviously something was wrong,
Daddy was unhappy,
He got the wrong baby...

My granddad was disgusted,
didn’t even glance at the baby cot
I tried to be the nicest, prettiest...
Forced my lips to curl sweetly only after a few minutes I was born
My effort was to no avail

Decided!! All they ever wished for
Was an heir to the throne
A baby boy I was not ...but I was born  a girl...
My grandma stood still, expressionless
My mom’s cries was louder than mine
Ohh!! What a day to start a New Life
Mercy me!! I  had just suffered a near death experience
At birth..
Please mercy my mom too...
She was never at fault to give birth to me...a baby girl..
Can you imagine what kind of journey it would be for me?
from one comfortable world into a new one?
from my mother’s condusive womb to this cruel reality of life?
I have just tried to open my  tiny little eyes
into a bright new world.
But painful journey down the birth canal
Was it worth?
My eyes see the instant hate and fear
As soon as I was casted at birth...
My family have rightfully claimed
I am not being fit as an heir to the throne..

By Sharina Saad
Its new year
its a new a new begining
its a new dawn
its a poetic year
a year of musics
the storm has fade away with the previous year
now its peaceful and condusive

its a year of love
its a year of total acceptance
its a year of forgiveness
its a year of optimism
its a perfect year for you
its a perfect year for me and
its a perfect year for us
a year we found love in hopeless place
a year when pain becomes gain
a year when tears became laughter
a year where we dream big
a year where we live bid
a year where we achieve big
its new year

— The End —