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The Poetry Issue 2023: House Has a Tongue and other poems

The Poetry Issue 2023: House Has a Tongue and other poems

Why Write Poems About Love


Must we go on like this,
full of viciousness, criticism,
quick to judge 
ready to be offended?
Are we empowered by 
this irascibility 
or are we enslaved?
Hate is an island 
formed in an ignorant sea.
Build a bridge of love.
A poem is that bridge,
can you write one 
to reach the other shore,
to conquer another without 
losses.
In this valley of words
let your poem rise like a mountain. 
In a deluge of disease,
let your sentences float like
a life raft.
In a world full of strangers 
let your voice be 
as calming as that of a mother. 
Let your similes be as kind 
as a true friend.
Let what you leave as a legacy
be as full of hope
as the three lettered god.
Are you not overwhelmed
with everything,
everything lacking in love?



In the Eye of Storm


Sky is a woman
about to bleed,
moody and brooding.
Wind dances bacchanalian.
The bored sea
wakes up to join in,
the tears of earth 
pooled into oceans.
The day is swallowed 
by night as the sun is shot down.
In the court of god
thunder strikes like
a gavel restoring order.
Where do the birds disappear?
As people retreat to their homes.
Lightening is a crack
that shatters the cupola.
For a brief moment 
we are all watched 
as brightness 
fades into the dark by
this fulminant storm
with its calm eye.


House Has a Tongue


May I ask,
What is the geometry of joy,
the color of fulfilment,
the pattern of your loyalty?
What is the height of your dreams?
How much room does your
sadness take?
Does your front yard 
sun your purpose?
Does your house grow roots,
does it bloom,
does it have unseasonable showers?
Does it sound like noise 
or silence,
whisper or laughter?
Does it spread its boughs,
and welcome strangers?
What lies behind 
that closed door?
Is it aired or does it suffocate you?
Does it feel like home or
does it merely bear your name?
Is it you who lives there or a shadow?
Is it suffused with love or
built on a marriage 
devoid of it?
Whatever it is,
do you hide it well?
One can tell, you know.


Leaves of Autumn 



This place smells of dream,
this place smells so nauseating,
this place with its various scents,
this place called the past.
You preserve it like
in a museum and visit 
often, so much so 
you become a museum 
when you were
only supposed to 
be its gatekeeper.
This place so obvious
yet so confounding.
Autumn beckons memories
to hold us tight.
and yet look how the leaves let 
go as if they know what 
they are doing,
letting their hair down
as if they don’t care 
as if they don’t 
have a past, as if 
they don’t like to wear it
like a habit, 
as if they can see 
beyond the winter 
and fly into the light.


For How Long


You open your front door 
stepping into the world 
of guns, grief and helplessness.
You close it at night in gratitude, relief
and survivor’s remorse,
looking on as the sinners multiply,
and the gods follow suit, but
for how long?


These poems were part of The Poetry Issue 2023, curated by Shireen Quadri. © The Punch Magazine. No part of these should be reproduced anywhere without the prior permission of The Punch Magazine. 

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