Category: verse

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VERSE | METAMORPHOSIS

On By Mahvash K. M.In hope, poetry, serenity, verse, writingLeave a comment

This is for all those who have survived emotionally, mentally and physically abusive relationships. For those who have discovered the precious blessing of sleeping deeply, peacefully without being haunted by crippling anxiety and the renewed torture that every new day would inevitably bring in its wake.

I look at him 
Threatening, raging 
Berating me
The cruel words sidling in 
Between his verbal pounding  
I recognise, I see
His enterprise 
To humiliate me 
To agitate, to fluster me
To intimidate
To paralyze me.
I’m going to leave you 
One of these days 
If you tell 
Anyone anywhere 
About any of this 
I swear 
I will make you into the beast
The one unfit 
The one tearing down this relationship 

I look at him 
Frozen in place 
My heart still 
I’m incapable 
Of seeing beyond 
My fear
I’m incapable 
Of seeing anything 
Beyond the terrifying sacredness 
Of the union 
We signed together
I’m incapable
I’m powerless
I’m numb 
All I hear is a hum
A white noise in my head 
Autonomous, involuntary 
Humming humming humming 
Preserving for that time
My sanity 
Maybe my life … 

And then one day 
He followed through 
On all the threats 
That he had let loose
Into the fabric 
Of our togetherness 
I’m  l e a v i n g  y o u
He said, emotionless 
This time there was no 
Placating hum
No cloaking thrum
Inside of me 
Hiding me, shrouding me 
I looked at him 
Cold sweat gripping 
My face, my neck 
The insides of my thighs
Dripping, dripping endlessly  
But my mouth was parched 
My lips were dry 
I felt like I was going to die 

But I didn’t crumble
In the wind 
Whirling in the murky 
Depths of things 
I survived 
I stayed alive 
That shared horizon 
Spilling blood 
Dirty linen streaked with mud
Was washed into the sea 
Decaying into infinity 
A whole new realm had suddenly 
Stretched out in front of me 
Full of peace and gratefulness
Gladness and serenity 
Where I was calm and I was whole
I had my body and my soul
There was no fear
No agony 
No trauma filled spaces 
Beckoning me

Like Kafka’s Metamorphosis*
In reverse 
I have broken through the curse 
No more thrashing, crashing heart 
Petrified and frozen limbs 
No more grim hellishness
Of emotional poison stings
Making me cry, making me cringe 
I’m still here. I’m here still 
My lungs now take in their fill 
My heart is beating rhythmically 
No suffocating anxiety
Once more I hold the hand of the child 
That has lived in my soul all this while 
For her now
Nothing is impossible.
* KAFKA’S METAMORPHOSIS: 
Metamorphosis is a novella written by Franz Kafka which was first published in 1915 and is considered one of his best works. The main themes revolve around the burden of responsibility, isolation and alienation, and sacrifice.

VERSE | c-ART-arsis

On By Mahvash K. M.In hope, poetry, verse, womenwriters, writingLeave a comment 
It was one of those treacherous days 
That squats in front of you
Exhausting and depleting
It drains you through and through

I was overcome with listlessness
A pall lay all around
I sat staring into space 
Completely stupor-bound

I needed to break the torpor 
I needed to feel alive
I recalled some pithy words I’d heard
Of drawing to revitalise 

Sketch anything on a blank page
The sage had thus advised
So out I got my notebook
The blank one, without lines

I looked at my set of markers
They were the watercolour sort
Liquid-lovely for colouring in
Already drawn out art

I picked out a green one
The black just seemed too staid
I then sat staring into the creamy
Depths of my blank page

It was said that if you then find
Yourself in a conundrum 
Imagination hiding away
No muse, no inspiration 

Then just write something positive
And let your mind roam free
The words will inspire by and by
A masterpiece of imagery 

“CHOOSE the world you WANT” I wrote
Feeling a wry smile om my lips
So many empty words they seemed
Skepticism had me in its grip

I drew dancing confetti to bring
Some joy to the lifeless leaf
Adding comet-like tails to the C and T
Shedding some existential grief

Then I added whorls and twirls 
To the words I’d written down
In reds and blues and oranges
Purples, violets and browns

The sentence glimmered on the page
In colourful celebration
In all the rainbow hues and more 
An uplifting declaration

I smiled, the sluggish spell now gone
Every flourish had set me free
Enshrined in my mood uplifting art
The words now also surrounded me.

VERSE | CAUGHT RED-SALAD!

On By Mahvash K. M.In Foot in the Mouth, plants, satire, verse, writingLeave a comment

This is my Alice in Wonderland type of journey through my bowl of salad. Some trials (including of the dietary variety) are best undertaken up close and personal! Also thrown in some existential angst for good measure. The title of the piece is a play on the phrase “Caught red-handed”.

I pick my way through little bits
Of bright green, the shade
Of fresh cut grass
I then pass
A scarlet flower the size of my head
It sits on the ground like it’s dead
Or perhaps waiting 
Anticipating 
Food? Me? Like the Venus flytrap?
I shudder and go on 
It agitates me that I’m alone

I look up
There propped 
On a frilly green tree
I see
A brown green dome 
Velvety on the outside 
Is it a temple? A den? A ploy to lull the senses
Full of pretenses
Of warmth and safety 
Waiting slyly for unsuspecting prey?
I shiver and go on

I’m borne on fogs 
Of peppery wet air
I stop and stare
At uneven bricks of black and white 
Stacked haphazardly
Here and there 
Are these stairs to heaven? alien art? remains of ritual sacrifice?
I can’t tell … but oh the smell!
As I step through a hole
Soft and pliable, the pong
Makes my eyes water 
I falter for a bit 
It it a giant fungus? A virus? A disease? 
I step through gingerly — 

“Good afternoon ma’am. How’s the salad”
I’m startled, awakened from my reverie
I look down at my bowl
Where I had been traipsing 
Thumb-nail small
In a fearsome fantasy 
That my despairing mind had woven
In garden salad tapestry 

Lettuce, tomatoes, olives and cheese
Untouched, unloved, salt-pepper doused
Waiting for a forkful raised to my mouth
Sit patronisingly, self righteously 
In the bowl, staring back at me.

VERSE | ADRIFT

On By Mahvash K. M.In poetry, truth, verse, womenwriters, writingLeave a comment 
I feel the pull
I feel the glimmer 
It surrounds me, it’s all around me 
I freeze as it coaxes me 
Out of the grip of my sanity 
I stop struggling
And let it pull me in
I drown
Down, down 
In the tsunami gushing
Inside my mind
But only for a breath

I resurface then
In my other world 
My secret one 
Where I have no anxiety 
Where I don’t want to run 
And hide
I’m beside
A swing in the garden 
And a rocking chair. I smile.
They both hold the comfort 
And the softness of old friends 
They rest there quietly

I sit in the swing 
I push with my feet 
And peek through the leaves 
At the golden-red sky 
I can’t see them 
But I can hear the birds 
I think it is dusk 
A velvety glow wraps my world 
Golden paisleys and whorls
Dance around my feet 
As I sway gently in my seat
Dappled sunlight cloaks
My shoulders like angels’ wings 
As I weave to and fro on the swing 

I breathe out, my muscles untense
I’m far away from cause and consequence 
No memories, no sorrows
No yesterdays, no tomorrows 
It is Now and Now is everything 
I lean back 
In the swing 
She holds me softly 
In her cushioning 
I close my eyes 
I hear something 
Someone is calling me
Voices from far away 
But my lids are so heavy 
I can’t keep awake
In the tranquil buzz 
Of the honey bees 
And the gentle murmur 
Of the almond trees 
Like wraiths the voices fade away 

I’m finally home, unbound, pain-free
I lay my head back and sleep. 

She’s not here anymore. She’s gone 
Adrift in the tangle of her dreams.

VERSE | SOULFUL INTERLUDES

On By Mahvash K. M.In poetry, serenity, verse, womenwriters, writingLeave a comment 
I look at the leaves
Serrated edges, little flowers 
And I wonder 
About its identity 
The shrub growing under the amalthas* tree
You would know
You always knew 
As we walked in the street
Outside the house 
You could name every flower
And every tree
Every creeper
Even the sickness 
That gripped some of the leaves 

You looked at these 
Concerned, everything else forgotten
The fact that your own body 
Was racked with disease 
That ever-present pall softened 
By the enormity of your being
Your own pain erased 
And at that time, in that moment 
I too forgot
The wheelchair that you were in
That you were ill; that we were grief stricken 
I dived right in, feeling, seeing
You weaving magic around everyday things 
Flowers and trees grew chimerical wings

The swaying kachnar* 
The beskirted Ashokas*
Bobbing profusions 
Of jasmine and phlox 
Fragrant bunches
Of nargis* and freesias
You pointed them out with happy ease
And worried when any of these 
Were less than their perfect selves
And I too smiled and looked
In wonder
At how joyfully you revelled in it all 
Holding infinity in your lit up face
Offering up so much love and grace

And for those moments 
I too forgot 
The pain and the grief 
It was you and me 
Sadness free
While you took me on ethereal trips
Where nature in all her fullness
Unfurled - beautiful, calming, brave
We were carried away on a gentle wave
The pitted leaves 
Still vital and green
Were the only things we needed to save
* Kachnar: Orchid tree or mountain ebony

* Ashoka: Saraca asoka

* Nargis: Daffodil

* Amalthas: Indian laburnum

VERSE | GRIT

On By Mahvash K. M.In hope, poetry, verse, womenwriters, writingLeave a comment

For all the women and the men supporting them; for all those who get up every morning and despite all odds make it through the day surviving, shining, rising. For the friends and families of Sara, Mahsa, Noor, Qurat Ul Ain and of the countless nameless others like them: your grit is everything.

When it’s been tormenting
Day after day. With no respite
And I just don’t have it in me to fight 
To battle on 
When I’m war-weary 
When there is no end in sight 
And all I want to do 
Is sit in a dark room 
And let its coolness shroud me 
Until I can feel the hair
Stand on my skin. There 
Is suddenly more to the day
Than the heaviness in my heart 
And the endlessness of the grey
That has been flowing, gripping choking me 
Keeping me doubled down on my knees 
There’s more beyond that malevolent mien
Images, memories driving me insane

Now - 

Now there is also something 
On the outside of me 
A little chill 
A little photo on the window sill 
Both pull at me in different ways 
One makes icicles 
To sear through 
The magma that has congealed 
Inside of me 
The other makes my blood flow warm 
Streaming, coursing through my veins 
Reminding me that I’m not alone 
My spirit and my fortitude 
Still cloak my shoulders 
Strong and true 
I sit up straight 
As they reverberate 
Through every atom of my being 
And they chant 
An age old song 
Of others like me 
Who’ve fought on
Their hearts fused forever 
With the loved ones they’ve lost
And I know 
That I’m not wielding my sword alone
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VERSE | THE WHINGE

On By Mahvash K. M.In Foot in the Mouth, poetry, verse, womenwriters, writing2 Comments 
Today has dawned as one of those 
Days that makes me gripe
I sit up in bed thinking of all
The things that I don’t like 

It’s useless today to try and be
Tolerant and benign 
So here’s an unlovely ode to things 
That get on these nerves of mine 

I hate early mornings
And tepid cups of tea 
I abhor geckos on the wall 
Even if they’re nowhere near me 

I can’t stand milky coffee 
But I cringe when it’s too strong 
Too much sugar makes me gag 
Too little pulls me down 

I so hate the humidity 
And what it does to my hair 
Like an alien in residence 
Waving its million arms in the air

I deplore breaking with the 
Predictability of my grind 
First my latte, then some work 
Then some angst if you don’t mind 

But I also hate when twilight sets 
On my day off from routine 
From the clutches of mundania
Self imposed as that may be 

I can’t stomach margarine 
For what it does to my intestines
Anaphylactic shock and awe 
Are then wholly, soully mine 

I can’t stand the loud caws
Of aggressive city crows
Scavenging, ravaging their 
Insidious way indoors 

But I also dread the day my
Neighbourhood mynahs don’t come by
I don’t care that my avian favouritism
Is then guiltless and alive

On these days I also detest 
All our erstwhile politicians 
I wish they’d all go and drown 
In the tumultuous Indian Ocean 

The Arabian Sea just seems 
Like a seriously dubious route 
They’d go Gulf country visiting 
And come right back home to loot 

I hate that I hate my life 
When my hormones are awry 
When everything seems absurd 
A frickin’ painful enterprise 

Yup, It’s one of those days again 
When I’ve woken with a groan 
It’s going be 24 hours of 
Whinge and hate and moan

VERSE | THE SWEET SPELL OF PAIN

On By Mahvash K. M.In poetry, serenity, verse, writing2 Comments 
Barefoot I walk onto the path 
I don’t know where it leads
I’m propelled, compelled forward 
By the sensation in my feet

Onwards they take me further and further 
There’s an airiness in my heart 
I step lightly, sprightly forward 
Along that glittering path 

I look around me as I walk on 
Nature is everywhere 
A butterfly flits close to my toes 
I want to stop right there 

But onwards I walk, I skip, I leap 
My feet have a mind of their own 
They’re taking me down the scenic route 
So on and on I roam 

My face now wears a little smile 
My atoms are swaying too 
And my feet they keep the rhythm
Glide one-two, one-two.  

A melancholy melody almost a moan 
Comes wafting in on the breeze 
I close my eyes, feel its ebb and rise 
As I stroll in the bower of trees 

There’s something else that I can feel
Hiding in the shrubs nearby 
Heavy, leaden, bruised and raw
It’s getting closer all the time 

As I walk with eyes closed my eyelids fly open 
Everywhere is shadowy grey
For a little while there in my sleep 
My aching feet had swept me away.

VERSE | THE FACE IN THE MIRROR

On By Mahvash K. M.In poetry, serenity, verse, writingLeave a comment 
I look in the mirror at the face 
That looks back at me 
Silent, still, waiting for something 
An acknowledgment maybe 

I need to see that she’s alive, I blink 
She blinks back at me 
I let her know that I’ve seen her 
She does the same for me 

I look into the dark brown eyes 
Her gaze is focused and serene 
I blink again to understand 
To read that look, to glean

She smiles a little smile then 
The pleasantries out of the way
She and I are closer now 
Than we were yesterday 

I notice the lines that now hug 
The corners of her eyes 
They tell tales of highs and lows 
Of when she fell and when she thrived

My glance slips down to the smiling mouth 
Lines embrace that feature too 
Telling both in prose and verse 
Of times both cheery and blue 

I look again into the eyes
I see a twinkle in them now
Still room for grace and joyfulness 
Before life’s final bow
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VERSE | FALL FAREWELLS

On By Mahvash K. M.In hope, poetry, serenity, verse, writing2 Comments 
A melancholy rustle stirs in the leaves
Holding heavy in their boughs
Their green, green garbs have faded
They are in mourning now

For the bounties once bestowed on them
By spring and then by summer 
Now they curl their mottled frames 
In the briskness of November 

Lady Autumn has this special
Cleansing Ritual that she wields 
Back into the earth they go 
Flowers, butterflies and leaves
 
The promise of new beginnings too
Is buried with their shapes 
For when spring comes round again 
For when again they will all wake

The leaves are weary as they cling 
To seasons that have gone 
But soon they too will hear her sing
The soothing song of Fall.

VERSE | THE PLEASURE OF KINGS

On By Mahvash K. M.In Joy, poetry, verse, writing1 Comment 
I go to the kitchen and switch on the light 
A hazy, 5 watt bulb warms to life 
I then put the kettle on 
And while it sings its little song 
I fix my square blue-flowered tray 
Strainer, spoon and a little bowl 
And one of my mugs adds to the whole
With a pinch of the most fragrant earl grey 
It sits in its saucer and awaits 
The steamy pour from the spout
Of the kettle as the water gushes out

Onto the teabag it flows in a rush
Steaming vapour billowing up 
The mug is filled almost to the brim 
Just enough space for milk, not skimmed
(Low fat is the best I can do 
Playing around with tea is taboo!)
Then the iris-strewn tea tray goes 
To the lounge, loaded with its amenities 
In all of this, as its centrepiece  
My mug puts on a steamy show 

It blows kisses in fragrant plumes 
Sending them wafting across the room 
I kiss it back with my first sip 
It’s the one that has the scalding nip
I close my eyes as it slides down 
My throat, searing the flesh around 
But that is the pleasure of tea drinking 
A self-immolation fit for a king

VERSE | ICARUS, REALLY?

On By Mahvash K. M.In Foot in the Mouth, poetry, verse, writing5 Comments 
* ICARUS: One of the most famous tragic figures in Greek mythology, his story highlights the dangers of excessive pride/ fixation. Although he was warned by his father not to fly too high, Icarus became overexcited and flew too close to the sun, causing his wings (made by his father,from feathers and wax) to melt and leading to his untimely death.
This is a bit of satire on the old Greeks of mythology.
There was once a young woman 
She had this special thing 
One can’t call it love you see 
The Sun was her heart’s king 

She’d look up at the sky all day
In spring and then in summer
Winter woes came down in throes 
Not seeing him was a bummer 

But she’d then glue her sun-sick eyes 
Upon the tele-vusion
Watching classics and Sci-Fi 
Of beaches and nuclear fusion

(Fission, I admit, is a grander term
But it’s a small explosion
Through staid old Fusion doth the sun
Make Helium from Hydrogen)

One day on her 60th birthday 
She’d had it with long distance 
She put her crafty hands to work 
She wasn’t losing one more instant 

She made herself some silver wings 
With aluminium and nylon string
And then up to the roof she went 
To flap, flap up to her king 

It was probably mind over matter that 
Got her three feet above the roof 
The Sun finally said “Icarus in your 35th 
Incarnation, you’re still a goof”.