Learning to Breathe

THE NEW RELEASE Rough, muddied hands, Innocent, yet weathered, A child of the streets Orphaned and disowned by Love. A breeding ground of emptiness. Round, wide eyes Of chocolates and diamonds Twinkling by the light of the passing car. But a mischievous smirk Yellow from ear to ear Reveals the blackened mind. Bewitched by Fate Riding his thoughts, His hands stretch to gather all All, all that survive, All that thrive All that are happy, bold and alive. While Fate's puppets dance Through light and shadow, Arrows shoot from his once round eyes. Hands muddied and bloodied, Heads splintered and sullied, Threads snapped with the greed Of a child with gluttonous zeal. With a new scene behind, Puppets, curtains fall to the floor, Now showing hunger and laughter and gore! Met by an audience of gasps and claps And chants of encore -  Now in Hundreds, now in Dozens, Until One screams "No more! No more!" ...

"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

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 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

REVENGE A feather floating in the wind she is. Not knowing what will face her, not knowing What she will become. All but left to chance. Now, a sunny sprite dancing in the breeze, With gentle footsteps mingling with the grass, With keen eyes searching for dewy clovers, With melodies in rhythm with the woods. Content, happy, with a curious mind! Yet - storm clouds sent from Hell gather with force, Plunging into darkness those gaping eyes Blinded by talons of fire and frost! That tender soul no more shall thrive, but be Cursed by the wrath of the bird wrought with blades Whose feathers she once plucked and plucked away. - Maryam Kaleem

AN ANGEL'S PLIGHT Racing through, headlong into the darkness, No reason to lighten the heavy brow. Encompassed by noise, disease and madness, While in unsteady hands lies a stretched bow. Though I am sure to miss the devil's mark, I'm obsessed with a burning desire To let go, let my arrow pierce the shark And watch the villainous world burn in fire. Pause! take a moment and let me restrain This hand chiseled in the Almighty's name. Must I sin and have my wings plucked in vain Only to play the devil at his game? Racing through, headlong into the darkness, A heart yearning for rays of forgiveness. - Maryam Kaleem

FOR PEACE Let there be stillness and serenity Let there be a fight against affliction, Let solemnity and thoughtfulness be Surrounded by a time for reflection. Where bodies and minds are engulfed in war, When innocent words remain unspoken, Faithful servants are afraid of the law, No! Is this the world we hoped to live in? Everyday villains are celebrated As great heroes to flocks of mindless sheep. Mocking, slandering, furious, livid, Selling freedom if your pockets run deep. Guns. Tanks. Bombs. Buildings sundered piece by piece. Amidst the noise, one voice - Let there be peace. - Maryam Kaleem

This is another write-up submitted by me for an English assignment. Thought I'd upload it - since the blog has been starving since a year! Would like to know your views. IS VIOLENCE JUSTIFIED IN THE PURSUIT OF FREEDOM? Violence alone can never be justified. However, violence in the pursuit of freedom has plagued political philosophers for centuries. In every circumstance, when human rights have been denied beyond a certain extent, people have revolted violently. I believe that violence is wrong. Violence is inhuman. To take the life of an innocent victim is brutal. It is ruthless and savage. In it there is no benefit whatsoever. But then a new question arises. Freedom. There is a tipping point in all humans, beyond which, no amount of perseverance can be withstood. It is the point after which the human body and mind cannot endure the oppression any longer. In response to this injustice, torture, and persecution, violence is the last resort of the despera...