he finishes the foul smelling cheese that i nibbled at and rejected,
tastes all the drinks i poured myself to retch and show disdain for my ambivalence,
drops on my shoulder when cant-pronounce-Arthur tipsy,
sprawls his legs on mine to find comfort in having a feeling fellow-being so close yet so far,
shows me his latest mujra steps perfected to nurture the inner calling,
reveals pictures of testosterone invested naked souls born for us to view and wow as we believe so in our carnal dreams,
picks at the crumbs off my mouth when i baby-eat sushi,
gives the stalker a “maula jutt be damned; i will not let you harm my girl” kinda look when i press,
calls himself a baji, begum, khatoon, jahan aarah, taranum, sangeeta, mastaani.
but, what he doesn’t do is:
stroke my tail bone without my consent,
(“Consent”, Jan 20, 2017)
Launching two books of poetry
‘The Second Advent of Zeus’ poetry collection by Manolis
‘Matriarchy’ chapbook by Tiesa Leudy, Ayesha Durrani, Mariam Zohra, Fauzia Rafique, Zohra Begum
Sunday, January 15th, 4-6pm
Media Room, Upstairs, The Lodge Building.
Alexandra Neighborhood House
2916 McBride Ave, Surrey
We will also take this opportunity to introduce the new Word Arts LIVE Series being launched February 26 at this venue by Host Virginia Gillespie in collaboration with Surrey Muse At Large (SMAL).
Slides her arm to his side of the bed
Checks the clock, 6am
Remembers the warm embrace
The cozy stretch and falling asleep again
Silently he had left
No sound of the exit door
He’ll be just another dark shape walking past trees and fences
and dim street lights, causing eerie shadows
The road is wet, no sign of rain drops on puddles
His umbrella is still open in the bathtub
She makes the bed
The feathers are still warm on his side.
Presented at a meeting of Surrey Muse Writers.
Helga Parekh is a writer, artist, sculptor, potter, and a performer. View more here: helga-parekh-surrey-muse/
a love nest
in my mind
the bird flew
in an uncovered
bowl of straw
Reblogged on mayanaam.wordpress.com From gandholi.wordpress.com
Source: ‘Bait’ by Fauzia Rafique
Flying over the nests of hearts
A small sparrow of love
Dropped a shocking pink egg on me
What should I do with it now?
Just in the palm with care
Warm it with feathers and cotton balls
Feed seed when the chick comes out
Enjoy the pleasure to see it fly
Or may be
Paint blue and yellow flowers
Place it in a box
Decorate my drawing room
Write on it ‘Don’t touch, delicate egg of love’.
Over the burning fire and in the heated oil
Break, fried egg
Eat this morning for breakfast
From Fauzia’s Punjabi poem ‘Peyar dee Chirri’.
Translated by the Author.
Reblogged on mayanaam.wordpress.com from gandholi.wordpress.com
Source: ‘Sparrow of Love’ by Fauzia Rafique