To the corner I go
Empty the sachet I know
Beans a brew
I’m on a blue collar high
With the screen
Staring at me all a-glow
Time to unwind
Tea? Not my kind of fancy
An hour to honor
My company
As cup No 3
Sets me free
To My Story Teller, My Dreamer…
To my Story Teller..
You radiate a flicker beyond
the darkest hour
Opening up a path of luminosity,
releasing a vision so clear
that it awakens the
sensory experience beyond an articulating power…
It is when I am blanketed by your mighty
words
As I caress the secrets that keep you hidden behind every locution
As you let me lay in a decoration of verses with careful precision
As you sweeten these further with meaningful persuasion…
To you, my story teller…my dreamer
whose art isn’t
tongue-profound but whose craft comes alive through free form and rhyme…
You take me with you on a journey of life’s beautiful and bountiful lessons…
And as we continue to travel and transit
You and I know we can rely on each other – in good times and bad.
It’s You, I thank!
I have always had a
good feeling
about you
You have been given
this power; this talent to
look back at life
and make the best from
its unfairnesses.
What that means to you,
how you managed to
choose the plausible and
discard the inexplicable
that were dished out
infront of you so that
you’re able to
take chances was living proof
that it wasn’t just
some leap of faith.
You left it in
the hands of others
who were feeling low to
discover you in your ultimate
prowess: you had the
ability of making it all
look easy
when things were bleak
and seemingly hard.
If I can feel it, I’m sure
s(he) will too…
This feeling is a reflection of
what makes you, truly YOU!
So why change?
Signature
You spice things up
And pass it off as your own
How unkind
How cruel
How demeaning
The trigger you pulled
When you took someone
else’s creation and made
it part of your folio of greed
Is instant thieving
A deposit of your
Own neglect towards
The articulateness
Of someone’s scrupulous effort
To be seen
To be heard
To be enthroned
Sea of Change (maybe…)
The tides roll in…
Beaches sweep ripples
off shore away from an
eclipsing horizon
In crystal clear waters
rocks and urchins
reef and corals befriend
Beneath feets deep
a darkness beds
melancholy in verses only
of creatures swimming
against the thundering
heartbeats and a tundra of
promises beyond
the calm of a blue yonder.
#lovetheocean
Avant Garde of Hearts
He is my artist
He paints me
Happy when blue
He outlines me
Safe when in fear
He uses light brushstrokes
On my healing pain
He draws me in full or he
discards every part
He is my artist
The avant garde of my
turmoiled heart
A Puzzler
It was a puzzling life
Everywhere he looked
There was a piece
As small as a grain it stood
They looked odd
And can be sharp
Around the edges
He tries to figure each one out
But he loses patience
Misses what was in plain sight
And bail on a jigsaw cloud
It was a puzzling life
He sees no logic in each picture
Can’t quite grasp the enigma
Behind the maker
Whose brilliance was too
Obscure for any problem solver.
…76′
A year of all years
I’ve been asleep,
awake, asleep and awoken again
I’ve taken warm baths
And cold showers.
A year of all years
I’ve made my bed
Drew daisies on walls
Used water to scrub them clean
before the lady of the house screams.
A year of all years I’m out
Of a closeted dream
Realizing that life can be
just about feathers and ink.
Words by ©Farzleen F. Khan
Reposting photo from Poetry Foundation
myall2016.wordpress.com
Grub Club
Welcome to our Grub Club
Rejoice in a culinary splendour
Of simple pleasures
Dig into a world of basic
Meals that satiate and
Feed your journey of social joy
Soil your fingers in sauces filled
With everyday spices, nothing highly irregular
It all tastes better with your hands
We offer no chairs or tables, just a
Mengkuang mat, some rustic 200 year old plates
And a huge dulang completely filled with
Love and uncomplexed care – our occupation to serve you with our hearts
And how your minds savour
Each time, is really up to you
And we mean every word
in every bite that you take
Only at our Grub Club…
Bright Crayolas
Can you see it?
That kind of shimmer
That sort of glimmer
That kind of streaky gold line
That sort of neon hue
That kind of light peeking through
Can you see it?
Well, let me tell you…
That clearing up ahead may not be quite obvious to you now
But believe me the sun still shines from up above somehow
It still remains bright and alluring for you to stand out
And honey, that’s all you should care about.
Words by ©Farzleen F. Khan
Hope Chest
Photo by Inga Seliverstova on Pexels.com
What have you
Got there
In your Hope Chest?
I see a symbol equalling trust
A pendant for luck
I see a notebook with no pen
A feather from a chuck
I see a cracked cookie of fortune
A wind chime from a rundown den
I see baby clothes that haven’t been worn
A photo of a lost ark in it some sand
What have you
Got there
In your Hope Chest?
I see nothing but a hopeless fool
waiting for a glinting
guide to an unending conquest…
Words by Farzleen F. Khan
Doll
Here’s a nip
And here’s a tuck
Here’s a lift
Now reconstruct
Here’s a suction
A filler plump-up
Here’s a reduction
Size them up a cup
The scalpel can take you places you never thought you could go.
When the old you gets erased, the new you sometimes suffers.
It’s a deeper kind of pain that could’ve ended before it began to grow.
And can go beyond what it seems to be or seen by others.
🤍 thyself:self-love
Dungeon of Desire
She was a pretty thing
But there was more to her than
her solitary, thoughtful ways
There stood a lurid side…
One that was
Torn and tormented from
Her own torturous act
of romanticising a darkness
so morbid that it began feasting
On the fruit of her loins that
were kept widely spread
within the dungeons of a
burning desire.
My All - Poems By Farzleen Fadzil Khan 