outside the windows. Even the street
But I sigh and rise, slip my feet
into Monday’s socks —
August’s dusky room cool.
When I clicked this picture
instant thought occurred,
That it is a contradictory mixture,
On one side is the Buddha
Figure of inner piece as a victory,
On the other hand, samurai
Famous warriors in the history,
Born in a small village, amidst the dunes,
not during dawn or dusk but mid afternoon.
Progenitor’s countenance was delighted at a glance,
angels in heaven were rendering the radiant dance.
Stillborn made her mother’s womb a barren field,
seed sown bore fruition after commanding her to yield.
In true terms, since birth she was a survivor,
laden with entire kin’s load made her a coherent driver.
Continue reading A Benevolent Midwife – Poem by Tausif Mundrawala
credit card snatched,
nor driver’s license,
nor picture ID.
Not her universal number
intercepted on the Internet.
Not the checkbook swiped
while her head was turned,
nor bank account number
pilfered from a pile of trash.
radiance snatched from her brow,
her voice knocked down an octave,
shoulders drooped from weight
of falling self-esteem.
Pride ripped from her psyche,
guilt smeared on her mirror,
ugliness glaring from the future
like a finger-wagging stepmother.
She sees Used scrawled across her forehead,
dreams the only wedding dresses
available are ones already worn.
She winces remembering his gaze,
shivers at the thought of solitude,
freezes at the prospect of another intimacy.
near to abort
the theft, he forced her
into an alley, stripped
away her innocence, tore off
her self respect, ripped off
her smile, her confidence,
stole her special gift. Filled her
future with depression and fear.
The trumpet sounds a piercing blast
Yes, I hear it, it drowns out the past
Some may complain of ringing in their ears
And cannot wait until it clears
Still others hear it and unfortunately deny
That they have been chosen to reach for the sky
We fight to survive
Through everyday life challenges
For food, pleasure and peace
But the heights we go never cease
Your smile is a million candles
That give light to my heart
The winds carry your scent
The trees hide desires in secret
You are a rose and thorn
Sin and salvation
Nightfall and sunrise
You are the pull of the moon
The erupting force of volcanoes
Upon the whispers of the wind
My spirit can hear your voice
A gentle tone
Filled with love and desire
We are harmony
The moments of rhythm and emotion
Give life to the symphony on your lips
Our bodies sway to the beats
Of our hearts
I revel in your rapture
For I have forsaken a hundred
Just to see the light of a new day
Dance upon your lips.
©PICTORIGHTS AMSTERDAM. Photo by Bugiandassociates
We came to America without a clue
When November rolled around and Thanksgiving, too
Stories of pilgrims with funny black hats
And Native Americans with feathers – Who knew!
Lower down the bridges of man Made regulations
and let me wonder in the Spanish architectural field
the high rising skeletons of your priesthood
Let me, Kick, apart
Trading slavery a market to human dishonesty,
A dark age to be crucified again,
as i look back and travel in the Scorns of History,
Not long ago Che, and Fidel Castro- marched into it.