Tragedy

for Rahah

She didn't know it was
coming. How could she?
Daddy driving, Mommy
feeding the baby.
And she was playing with
her little sister.

All five happy,
unaware,
but angel Gabriel was close,
a hair's breadth away.
He reached for her, and her, and her,
and him.

Unaware.

Remember all those times
when classmates laughed at you?
Who were you able to call
friends,
and who was just another
person in your tragic life?

Closer...

All at once
but in slow motion.
Red car;
vroom!
Sister opens her mouth
in a scream.
Lost in the air.
Mother ducks
to protect child.
Father spins wheel
swearing.
Baby,
for once,
silent.
And she, the
heroine in this tragic story,
saw:

Saw the blood,
the heads,
chopped.
Saw the people crowding.
And saw blackness.

He had reached them
and spared only one
from five.

No more family trips,
no more laughter.
Gloom,
a silent depression.
Just one phone call to Mom
she begs.

Wires line her body,
skin inside-out.
No one left to turn to.
No one left to call.

A Year Wasted

Minutes pass
Like grains slipping
From the hands of life.

Seconds tick
A timeless waste
How much longer?

5...
4...
3...
2...
1!

Fireworks!
Crackers!
A glass of milk!

A year thrown away
Burning in hell's fire.

Maybe

Maybe one day
the moon will rise before the Sun.
Maybe one day
your heart and mine will beat one.
But until that day
I'll keep in mind what you say
And stay away.

On the Beach

thunderous waves
in a dreadful blue rage

sparkling skies
how many secrets you hide

twinkling sea
shells specially for me

wet sand
a sinking brown land

glowing sun
how much work you get done!

Ten Things That Define My Style

I've been tagged by Kai, so here goes nothing.

1. Being a proud Muslim. Praying, reading the Quran...that sort of thing (by the way, its Quran, not Koran)

2. Anything that is remotely connected with nature. :) That means gardening, growing, eating fruits & veggies...Mother Nature is very artistic, no? Oh, and this point also includes cats and ladybirds. Mew.

3. Gazing at the sky, esp at night, sunset and dawn. Truly amazing!!!

4. Crafts. Jewellery making, painting, cooking (that is a craft, right?), sewing...I'm a true housewife (even though I'm not married (; )

5. Candles. Soooo romantic. When I'm around candles in a dim room, I can feel myself floating away to Magic-land. Plus, they look awesome.

6. Writing poetry. Its like all of my worries have been transported onto the paper/monitor.

7. Yoga. Soooo calming and very, very good for me.

8. Whenever I'm worried, I just turn over my problems to the ocean. Its so huge and so thunderous, like it ha a bad temper. Strangely calming.

9. Music. Any type. It just hypnotizes me.

10. Babysitting. Why? Power!! (Muhahahaha!!!) Plus, they're cute. :)

anyway, this is for whoever wishes to have a burden of writing ten points that define themselves. what else?? oh yeah. Girls Only. :) And now I shall go and philosophize over great (and useless) thoughts and ponder over the creation of mankind and such. Goodnight.

an idea
blooming into a worn-out thought
hints
falling from my mouth
and slanted eyes
a touch
a moment
only in memory.

You

you stood by me when i was arguing
you helped me through-out my life
and not saying a word,
you sewed up my ripped heart
and forever glued a smile on my face.

salty tears
drive down my cheeks
dirt cleared away
but what about inside?

my heart is broken
no amount of UHU glue shall fix it
it is rusting
and no tears can wash the rust away.

then your smile
a sun in my rain
clears the clouds away.

how can i thank you
for what you have done?

and the kiss seals my envelope.

hidden in the corner
forgotten, like rotten milk
she cries
hears voices shouting,
louder,
and louder

you promised

oceans of yells
flooding her mind
bangs against the door of
lawyers and
fake white wigs.

im sorry.

lost in arguments
who's side is she on?
black, or white?
a chess board...
black, or white?

a thought

magic's in the air
like swans floating by
i see your hand holding mine
briefly, a fleeting image
racing against time
against shouts and pleas
a thought,
a moment,
a scrapbook of ideas
only in memory appear again.

Stop

Stop.
Stop to see the waves
of the flag,
Stop to see the ripples
of the puddle,
Stop to see the smoothness
of its fur,
Stop to hear the wind whistling
like the boy next door.
Stop to smell the spicy, tangy taste
of that onion.
Stop.

Secret

Digging my nails
into blood-stained hand.
Straing eagerly
at fair face.

Tell me all!
I'm at the edge of the cliff!
I'll jump off,
for your secret!

Whispers it
in my ear.
Giggles girlishly,
I just stare.

That was my apple
of appeal?
That was what you
penned about?

Pooh!
I'm going tobagganing;
and you may not come!