How it fills me The word, The abrupt but definite, Irreversible awareness Of death. A lot like death itself Not flaunt but proud A thought I Inwardly wear To adorn my soul. Truly, How will I feel Facing death The way I face my Breakfast , Every morning Unarmed and resigned. Death grows [...]
Archive for March, 2007
The ride.
Posted in Poetry on March 28, 2007 | Leave a Comment »
Everyway I turn my eyes…inspiration!
Posted in Uncategorized on March 25, 2007 | 5 Comments »
Gracious God! One can not feel good about what one has unless one disgraces what the others have.I was reading this article at “Peshku” and just could not resist the temptation.The article expresses an admirable concern about the people who convert from Islam to Christianity, and who apparently live in fear because of their choice.Real [...]
Boredom.
Posted in Bitchiness on March 24, 2007 | 7 Comments »
Shred the boredom. Horizontally. Vertically. Bug it with a fork, like food leftovers.Sitting beside the table, staring at me, are all the characters and shapes my boredom ever fit into. They are all sighing, frozen in a state of disappointment.Even the paperclip guy is bored or is he simply being bitchy (so to say)…? Silence…then [...]
Late at night.
Posted in Poetry on March 20, 2007 | 4 Comments »
Slowly fill the room Those gently pouring sounds That seed little joys. My silence grows In white sheets, A self restraint Internal silence Like a not so ripe fruit. Be it a futile dream I do dream of love As a part time job, Maybe, escaping A dialectical overdose. But I know of the [...]
Posted in Uncategorized on March 15, 2007 | 3 Comments »
Long live the internet for making us connect with so many people (though often the wrong ones), for making us live like cadavers in our own homes, for making us live (already) as a memory in our children`s minds , for giving us the chance to flirt at any possible moment of the day or [...]
Winter light.
Posted in Poetry on March 11, 2007 | 2 Comments »
The dancer sleeps. Through my fingers And the air, Mute, extends my chest. More than the lack of change Its expectation hurts. Meanwhile little words Sprout, under theatrical lights. For some reason I remember Softly burning wood While the storm Uncynically persists, Outside And I am little again Wondering who will My husband [...]
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