I thought I’d write a poem today For a change, a cheerful one It seems like my prolific poetry Is making me the Queen of Glum
It’s not that I don’t see the beauty The hope and joy that abound In big and small spaces In young and old faces Oh i see it all around!
But I also see life’s glimmer Fade away, get slowly dimmer In close and distant places In fresh and weathered faces And my own feelings grow grimmer
The angst nudges the bard in me Unlike any rush of triumph or glee The words spill out agonised, enraged In wounded quatrains upon the page (And I have to say!) I feel lighter for the venting spree
So I thought I’d write a poem to tell Whether in fact I am capable Of verse that won’t assault your tear ducts Or indeed get your adrenaline up (What can I say!) These are the quirks of waxing lyrical
She looks at me hesitantly There is something on her mind I feel her turmoil, her anxiety But I’m also aware of the impropriety Of looking straight into her soul Uninvited, I can’t make bold Enough to let her know That I know that something is not right
She looks away, I continue to read The label on the jar of cream in my hands Luxury Hand Lotion it says Lilac and English lavender I am acutely aware of her disquietude Intensely, minutely even as I Focus on the object I cannot put down … She finally speaks to me with her eyes
Have you ever felt unlike yourself? Like it was not you who was experiencing The pain … the loss … the tragedy … Like you were on the outside, just watching? The jar of cream breaks free from the spell As I face her with all of my being It now sits on the table flat and still As I look at her, letting my heart speak
I know, dearest one … I can feel your hurt Talk to me, or don’t talk at all Let it all out or just set it free In the secret spaces of your soul Listen to your grief, speak to it too Until the throb recedes a notch or two Then let me in, let me hold you close Let me share your pain as I sit with you
I feel a rage It’s not the flaming, blazing kind Nor is it the hating kind It’s disappointment mixed with hurt A betrayal mixed with cheerlessness It’s a whipping, bruising buffeting It’s a faded, jaded trustfulness It’s a crashing and a burning Without smoke, without fire It’s the turning into ash Of something held so close Of something tender and so dear Of a precious, precious thing Of a pearl old as the years.
I feel a rage But in its manifestation There is no acid hotness Only a painful heaviness That sits mostly in my throat Huddled there, straining to emerge In tears or in words I’m capable of neither. Even as it squeezes me Choking, asphyxiating me In its throttling stranglehold I’m hoping for some peace and grace Hoping even in the throes Of this weary, bleary rage.
I saw a little spider today Weaving itself a delicate pathway In silken thread and gentle strides It made its way up the side Of the glass wall close to me I kept watching it carefully Partly because horror flicks Have made me squirm around these arachnids But mostly because of the enterprise It put into its little life
It climbed halfway up the glass And then a gust of wind alas! Tore its thready ladder up It swayed before going plop! Right onto the table where I sat with my coffee to stare At this busy creature lift Its body up bit by bit
I moved back in mild alarm Not because I’d come to harm That was not the thought I had My arachnophobia got me to stand It sat there a little concussed I think Before it gathered up its wits And off it went climbing again Forming anew, repairing
With so much drama in its life Buffeting winds, with predators rife The spider stays focused on its goals It weaves its web, mends broken holes We can learn a thing or eight From this marvellous arachnid To go on even when we’ve gone plop! To persevere, to climb back up Folks, if little spidey can be A superhero, so can we.
When he smiles His mouth curves up a little Just a bit. The teeth don’t show But sometimes a rare glimpse of ivory snow Peeks through. Like weathered pages From a book that has seen the ages That has been loved, and also has Been tossed around in the hands Of those that loved it less Now hiding its parchment yellowness
When she smiles Her cheeks skip up, joining hands With the crow’s feet at the corners Of her eyes. Hands and feet Join together in a wreathe Its flowers have been abloom a while Many now wear waning smiles Just a few are waxing still Of bountiful life taking their fill
When they look at each other He and she And they smile for all the world to see The mouths, the noses and the cheeks The enamel pearls, the crow’s feet All fade away as eyes light up Two sets of windows brighten up Spangled pathways to twin souls The radiant smiles reach deep inside To gently touch two pages bright Of a love story so new, yet old
December has arrived, nay, it’s nearly done The end of year’s upon us, winter, it has come I had a few wishes, resolutions and the like That I memo’d in my mind in Jan of twenty-five
Then came February, and with it came a pall From all the celebrations and energy of the hols The wishes and the must-dos faded just a bit As summer in all its brilliance laughingly swept in
Then there were vacations and baking in the sun Barbecues and festivals, meeting precious ones Teatime confidences, low key, calm and tender More spirited evenings full of song and a few benders!
Fall came rustling in then, dressed in oranges and reds The list of resolutions were almost put to bed The dreams too were foggy, like tree tops in the mist A far off memory, a fleeting touch upon the wrist
And now it is December, nay it is almost done The new year is upon us, year-end it has come There will be good intentions and bucket lists again For hope it springs eternal, from beginning to the end.
I woke up this morning, what a fabulous day! I glanced in the mirror, smiling away. I made my bed, brushed my teeth, did my hair I got myself ready, humming away. I picked up my bag, looked out at the world It was glimmering and dancing, shining away I walked down the street towards my cafe The Magnolia and Bougainville were blooming away. I sat at a table in the veranda outside All the feathered creatures were chirping away. I wrapped my hands around my latte As the mid morning breeze whispered away I then went about my usual day The hours peacefully ticking away Then came evening as I sat in my lounge The shadows of dusk lightly stretching away I woke up this morning, with hope in my heart The universe too gently embraced me today.
Mahvash Mohtadullah 