Thursday, May 26, 2016

Passive--By Sheikha A.--Pakistan and U.A.E.

Passive

I rode the night on its tail. The hooks
on the shirt of my bravery coming loose.
I remembered the orbit of your arms 
that wanted to hoard my ornate 
inconspicuousness from ever meeting
a sky-farer with wings of paper
but of a brazen heart he carried
on his sleeve, his mouth like the wind
in summers that made no oaths
but knew many amusing tales of musical
birds. You kept my mind from peeling
away like skins of immature lychees, 
never coming off evenly. You built
homes where I wanted clouds.
Since you knew best about preservation,
I stayed in your jar and called it sky.

Sheikha A. is from Pakistan and U.A.E. and often finds herself in a world of oscillation that most of the times motivates her writing too. She maintains a (or tries to) blog on sheikha82.wordpress.com.  

10 comments:

  1. I liked the metaphors you have used :) I look forward to reading more from you.

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  2. WOW. These lines 'Since you knew best about preservation,
    I stayed in your jar and called it sky' clinch the poem!
    Well expressed :)

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  3. Sheikha, I so loved this poem. That middle section where you write,
    "but of a brazen heart he carried on his sleeve, his mouth like the wind in summers that made no oaths" is so sound and poetically rich. Thank you for sharing this beauty and continued blessings!

    -MJ (www.tgbtgpublictions.com)

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    Replies
    1. thank you for reading, Maurice! much appreciated =)

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  4. Sheikha,
    A beautiful nature poem. Thaks for sharing.
    ~Davidf

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