Learning to Breathe

The 21 st century has seen a revolution in the way humans communicate with each other. The importance of learning foreign languages has received great impetus among working professionals in recent years. While knowledge of a foreign tongue can be an asset in business or tourism, research indicates that learning a second language during childhood is more beneficial. Studies in linguistics have asserted that language is not merely a verbal activity, but a cognitive one. Learning a foreign tongue helps strengthen the brain, and opens it to newer possibilities. Better problem solving skills, critical thinking, and creativity are characteristics seen among multilingual children. The more the brain is exercised, the sharper it gets. Learning a foreign language at a younger age also has linguistic benefits. Children respond to it in the same way they would their mother tongue. Pronunciation, grammar, and vocabulary skills are better inculcated, and children do not have to s

"A" SPLASH (An exercise in "a") Splash splash - sand at hand. Mama, Dad, Pat and Sam. Play games, make sandcastles, Dance and camp. Races, matches, darts and dashes. Lads and lasses at lake paddle. Warm days pass - sprays and splatters Ah! Happy days! At battle, army lad - shatter, smash. Take all. Slay all. Waste away masses. Shake pain. Stand. Attack. Stab stab stab Face gnashed. Car crash. Splash. Scarlet dash. Harsh hands Scratch scratch scratch. Fate damned. At last, Calm. Stand, stare at vast waves. Strapping, tall splashes. Salty taste. Splash splash splash. A sad statue at stable pace. Advance away, army lad. Waves take haste Rapids gyrate Gasp and pant Sharp rasp Aghast Agape Call and wail Hands raised Sapphire haze! All Black. A final splash. - Maryam Kaleem

This is a revised version of my earlier poem 'The Candle'. CANDLE OF MOTHERHOOD Upright and confident she shone, A light amidst devils of old. Sheltering her enchanted child, From fiery fiends of the night. A candle with the power to light New beams, and embers of the past. A home where happiness abounds, Where wretched  ignorance stays out. Away now I lie from her sight, Away I linger in the dark. Now old I am, but wiser she Who warned me of my own follies. Still deep I fall into the pit With shadows now engulfing me. But from the corner leaps a spark, Her final breath to protect me. - Maryam Kaleem

A MOTHER'S WINTER I pray to God you never know, My prayers are never answered though. The winter's dark and dreary here, All that's wicked is masked with snow. See you yonder a man so queer Who wanders far when death is near? Is that the Reaper on the lake, From whom I've fled all through the year? With frightful fear I sit and shake, My child I've made a huge mistake. I pray my errors you do sweep, And flee this winter's frost and flake! Hurry now, child, into the deep, Glance not behind, my promise keep. Shelter find and a place to sleep While with God's angels must I sleep. - Maryam Kaleem If you find the poem vaguely familiar, it's because I've used the end-rhymes from the famous poem 'Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening' by Robert Frost, and have re-written the rest of the poem. This was a fun experiment. Hope you like it! Find the original poem here:  https://www.poetryf

LAND LOST Where green blends with orange And merges into the very land, Where vast expanses of fertile plains Salute the mellow sun at dawn! To this union of emeralds set in gold I pledge my heart. Where orange skies burst with glee Showering mercy, extending joy To the young flowers plated with gold below - A festival of summer suited for the gods! To this abundance of colour I pledge my heart. Where verdant gardens leap forth with madness In tune with the music of the summer palaces Whose domes once echoed with haunting rhythms of the mystic. The earth engulfed in song! To this pious melody I pledge my heart. Where towering mountains shield the colours within, Their white caps melting into silver streams, That help bleed the red into the green - A sight stolen from the gardens of Paradise! To this divine canvas I pledge my heart. But, The sun now burns the land with a deep grudge, Piercing the hearts of the gardens t

THE CANDLE Upright and confident it shone all night, And every night since its glow faded not. Enlightening sunless paths, enhancing sight, A guardian angel midst a gloomy lot. One candle with the power to ignite A million more. Young, polished, fairy-like, Inspired they are to put up a fight 'Gainst the devil's shadows - strike upon strike. One candle, a shield opposing the dark, One candle to shelter the soul within. One candle, warning the son from its spark, One candle, burning for me its own skin. Now molten, its bright flame leaps higher still, One final caution for the child who sins. - Maryam Kaleem

THE TAILOR'S SCHEME Snippety-snip, The scissors cut through Bundles of cotton, satin and denims blue. Five small dresses of identical hue, Identical fabric, identical sizes too! Five small dresses for five girls aged 22, Of varied tempers, varied virtues - ah! And varied sizes too! Round and round goes the spinning wheel, Stitching shirts and skirts is no ordeal. In gossips and stories lies the real appeal -  Whose mother's a witch? Whose husband's a steal? Spinning, weaving and twirling a reel, Crafting, creating, contriving a spiel. In these hands of thimbles and needles of steel Are nimble yarns ready to be revealed. And in the Third Act the tailor sits pleased, Gazing at the dresses - perfect, without grease! He curls his lip to reveal his disease As he snips at the threads lying at his knees. Tattered and frayed they're lost in the breeze, Years of woven knots, undone with such ease! Snippety-snip - their so

A WARRIOR IN OBSCURITY Bold and brave I had pretended to be, Stepping onto the winding road, now doomed. A well of youthful arrogance in me, Brushing away all the terrors that loomed. Brandishing mighty swords for Honour's sake, With scholars and saints, befriending Wisdom. Peace with one, war with another I'd make, Thus all hailed the guardian of the kingdom! Now I lay weak and old, my pride shattered. Now I stare into the Void - blinded, maimed. Now I am forgotten, a voice unheard. Now I am no more the spirit untamed. Give this wearied soul a sip of Lethe, Deliver me from vile senility! - Maryam Kaleem