The day after.

For all the choices
unpredictably comes the inevitable
sometimes softly
sometimes tearing havoc

No matter how long we contemplate
cry
ask why
we still have to go

and open the place
the cupboards
and face the skeletons
of the passed

clear away the effects
read the mail
unfold things
that should have been buried

smell the odours of life
and lingering perfume
of the person of relevance
once indispensable

hearing a laugh near
the voice still
seeing the face and the features
in the light, on stranger's bodies

For all the choices we make
we dont prepare
to be ready
at the time to remember the choices.

By Tasnim

Is summer winning, really?

She comes breaking through the ice
Smothering the earth with her brilliance
Loving it back to life again
Softening the cold hearth

Even the clouds want in
melting in her warmth
raining down
on fresh delicate beginnings

Puddles are born
and then they die
where they go
they return as ice

And the sun spends endless hours
up there in the sky
so busy, ignoring
the heat waves

Soon the call of the South
pulls down the sun
days grow shorter
and winter comes.

By: Tasnim

Remembering my Father

i see my life running before my eyes
i see myself in mombasa, 1986
at home
a majestic sea-view mansion
draped in hot weather
big windows are open
but no curious breeze enters
only ununderstood sounds
night creatures
dogs and cats
domestic chicken
and the lapping sea
i am awake
blinking back at the stars
brightening the dark calm sky
it is 4 am
my father is awake
he is making me tea
i press my uniform
i dress
become gorgeous
for the kenya airways pick-up bus
to work
a 5 am shift
a small airport
at white beaches reach
fun blue seas
where food tastes like food
from heaven
dad, always there
always quietly there
nudging me
ever so gently
out of my small-town-girl skin
in an obscure african town
to look up from the chickens here
and find eagles
i leave when they hoot
outside
a spray of expensive duty-free perfume
from free trips around the globe
infuses the house
and he says
tasunim, ne ke jee
and i
bye dad.

PMS

As if I didn't know this will happen
it happens often enough
every lunar journey, is laborious for me

When the moon swells, I swell
When it darkens, I am gloom
When it swings, I flip

Werewolves are a joke
Nothing ever can beat this
I am murderous Unlovable Period

I don't have time to splurge

I am how old now? Never mind that ..
but now that I am older than before, that is.
I audit my life sometimes, right?
And if there is a waste of my time, ever.
I feel I wasted a big chunk of my life, you know.
With some really useless people, I swear.

Find me a wand

I hate my life!
People think that when they say these words
everyone will stop and listen.
Someone will be touched.
Maybe even gape!

Well, actually, everyone hates their lives.
Get used to it,

Everyone wants to be heard.
Get over it.

Everyone, in fact, has a great life,
We complicate it and then it hurts.

Not a migraine

So many hours are wasted,
on my depressed state

so many miles I've not tread
when i am deflated

So many thing not done,
because I am undone.

Who can mend
what I cannot tear?