Dream house
Filed in writing, April 29, 2009, 8:32 am by Neemai saw the house today,
a quaint two bedroomed,
with enough space
for a dinning and lounge.
The bathroom loo had a wonderful flush,
a properly old school bowl and tank
and the tub, in its own room,
imagine a bath without the knock
of a belly full of pee cutting in
Outside was a garden of fully grown trees,
no matter they give nothing [...]
Daddy, No.1
Filed in writing, , 7:41 am by Neemaevery thing he says i recall
because he repeats himself
and tells tales as if the action is at par
with the Matrix or Genesis.
everything he says stays
especially my name in vexed tones,
he’s ready to leave,
but i’m still dressing, selecting earings,
So he roars my name into the walls,
no, he’s changed, now he drives radiowaves
into everything, dialing my cell [...]
Love poem no.1
Filed in writing, April 15, 2009, 9:17 pm by NeemaLeaving is not an option
because of you, because of me.
Your face belongs to me,
when you shave it wrong I wince
as you itch. Your belly I accept
as I do your cavities, and I promise to nag
about the virtues of seatbelts.
Leaving is not an option because I got your tire
fixed today, because you hug like a solution.
Because [...]
Good.
Filed in writing, , 7:01 pm by NeemaFriday came and went without music,
the sky cracking, without thunder.
Even the long rains were missing;
they would have helped us invent
a memory of God dying, gratitude.
But there were no clouds, the sky
did not darken. Last year’s Friday
could not be recycled. How does one
remember a thing that happened
two thousand years ago, in another
culture, in another place, in [...]
Writing Prompt: (Wise, Edible) Wart hog
Filed in writing, April 6, 2009, 4:56 pm by NeemaHe looked good enough to eat,
we could cook him slow on a spit
with an apple in his mouth
the horns on either side hanging pineapple
rings to offer playful sweetness.
But who would slaughter such innocence,
when chicken and goats exist here for food?
Who knows how many the warthog saves in prayer?
He kneels to eat as if thanking his [...]
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