Poems

This Is No Dream

Ah, the poverty of the written word!
It does not carry the punctuations
Nor gestures or embellishments
Of a spoken utterance
Listen to the silence!

I went sleepless and troubled
Hiding under my pallid skin
As a thick blanket of darkness
Enveloped the starless night

This is no dream, my love
For dreams have no anchors –

You have frozen in space
Like a timeless statue
A figureless corpse
In a remote galaxy

Do not be disturbed
When I break through
Your protective armors
And quietly slip in

© Sadaf Munshi, Denton, Jan. 19, 2014

A handful of sky

ladishah

Memories of a handful of sky
A moonlit night
A heavenly garden
Moments frozen in a macrocosm
Mired in haziness
A collage of images
Of the dead and the doomed.

A treasure
Of a thousand smiles
A ten thousand cries
A million hearts
Breathing hope
And drinking grief.

Mothers’ frantic calls
Sounds of the marching boots
Of soldiers, warriors,
Freedom fighters.
A neighbor’s cry
At a newborn’s death
Curtained windows
And latched doors,
Blacked out evenings
And macabre mornings
Waiting for deliverance.

A faceless figure
In the deadly dark
Sucking at a juvenile’s blood –
Tell me who you are
What you are –
A priest, a saint, a sinner?

Give me a word
A sword
To tear through
The deadwood,
The senile past,
The arrogant enemy.

Give me my handful of sky
My bit of earth!

© Sadaf Munshi Oct. 6, 2011