Cracked
When the cracks first appeared, she decided to ignore it. Who would care for it anyway, those blemishes on the wall. It was his job and he just may do it onc...
Recent Posts
We Called Her Soul
Look down, little baby. there she sleeps in that modest, open casket, inhaling all her graces and hallelujahs in her serene passage to the good Lord.
Two Birds
Author’s Note: stillborn and stillbirth.
To Frieda, With Love
Frieda, listen little love Frieda. You have scars and burns and bumps-a, And stretches and cracks that may look rueful, But nothing little love, can make ...
The Oblation
It lasted for seven minutes, A hush, a bluff, a thrust, in and out It is all the rage to grope, fondle, maul. The boy was told in the strangest time, It was ...
The Happiest Place on Earth
I like to place bricks on my voice, So it will let out only whispers, When my eyes are listening, To the moonlight falling asleep, On seabed. I like to tie ...
Ten Talks
1. The stones arranged like a staircase that once made Pocket size waterfalls along the stream course Now turned into bricks you call house So when you brin...
Politics of the Divine
Tug O’ War? ‘Twixt Arabic verses, and dialectics? House of God— a pilgrimage to Mecca— a mandate? Pelting stones, and Satan— salvation? Diktats of Islam— a r...
Out of the Blue
Red has grown tired now, of the exhausting symbolism, crushed by the burden of representing love and blood, of inducing blissfulness in a loving heart, or in...
On The Edge of the Storm
The storm brews afar in the sea We can’t run and we know it You’re worried, or so you say And look into my eyes searching for answers I am no library — I ill...