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1.

I am tired of being mistress and a diva in closed doors,
I want you to take me out and tell the world,
that I belong to you.
Own me, the way you picked me up from road.
fearless and bold!

 

2.

My role in bed is my choice, not your demand.
So don’t think,
I am entertaining you.
It’s you who needs me and rely on me.
I can leave,
whenever
I want.

 

3.

You said you have arranged a place,
an opulent room for just two of us.
I won’t mind,
being close with you.
But last time I checked
you said
you love me.


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It is Right to Say

I am heartbroken
Sometimes it is right to say that
flat out
naked voiced

I am empty
I am sad
I wish this thirst, this sore throat,
this myocardial infarction
this worthlessness
this grief
this doom
would exit in one full throttle glottal raging
yell of pure sound
and leave me skin and bones
only


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Having Found Ourselves in Separate Bodies

I spread turmeric
On my lover’s skin because
The unfortunate truth of
Having found ourselves
In separate bodies
Means
When I touch I do not feel
And I wish to know
Where her every invisible minuscule hair
Connects to its own nerve.
And the spice specks stack up
In yellow sentinels of sensation

When we are first lovers
We wield swords
Abusers of power
Sensual bullies
Childlike delighters in jumps and gasps
I remember kissing your earlobe
And causing your whole body to shiver
Later love loses its edge
Instead of a penetrating thing
It becomes a bowl
at its best Thumbelina’s walnut shell
At its worst a viking shield
We either become entrenched behind it
Or come back on top of it
Dead
Carried by comrades
Gruesome animal dismemberment
Fiery end

I’ve acquired a strong aversion
To viking shields
Or viking ritual of any kind
Some say: after the sword
Necessarily the shield
But I say: as strong a drug as first love
As quick a fix as the surgeon’s sword
The sword is simple a nutcracker
Splitting strong walnut
Into encompassing ark
And the turmeric stays in the curry
Because your skin is so close to mine
The feelings I wish to elicit

have naught to do with nerves


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Cried G-D

When Cain killed Abel
He plead ignorance
G-d did not challenge this
But said: Abel’s blood cries out to me from the earth
Some may lead blessed lives in the bliss of ignorance, and G-d does not challenge it
But know this:
All spilt blood cries G-d

What this means is
After you plant the seed
You can never disown the seedling
Even into its tree-hood


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عورت کے نام

Credit: Larry Moore

تجھ کو معلوم یہ شاید نہیں ہم صنف مری
اک تماشا بنا دنیا میں تیرا ہے یہ وجود
بات جینے کی ہو یا بات ہو مر جانے کی
بات کوئی جب ہو تُو ہے وہی پابندِ حدود

تجھ کو مغرب سے ملا کیا فقط رسوائی کے
جھوٹے وعدوں کی ردا چھین کے عزت ہے ملی
اک تلخ دھوپ کے سائیوں نے جھلسایا جسے
تیری کاوش کا صلہ ہے وہی ذلت کی کلی

اور مشرق نے روایات کی چادر لے کر
تیرے سانسوں سے بھی چھینا ہے حقِ خودداری
شرم کے نام پہ خود اپنی حقیقت تُو نے
رشتوں کے، جذبوں کے، چاہت کے آگے ہاری

یہ گلہ تجھ سے نہیں تُو نے نبھائی کیوں وفا
میں تیرے ظرف پہ مرعوب ہوں پشیماں بھی
تیرے ایثار کا بدلہ ہے ملا کیا تجھ کو
بدلے چاہت کے حقارت کی سلیبیں ہیں ملی

تُو نے خود اپنا لہو دے کہ سینچا جن کو
تیرا سودا بھی تو سدیوں سے تو کِیا ہے اس نے
خوش رہی تُو کہ تیرے قدموں میں جنت ہو گی
اور قدموں کے تلے روند ہے ڈالا اُس نے

تیرے احساس کی آواز دبانے کے لئے
جھانجھریں پاؤں میں اور ہاتھ میں کنگن ہے پڑا
تُو اگر بھول کہ اک قدم اٹھانا چاہے
سامنے ذلت و رسوائی کا بازار کھڑا

جس جگہ آج تُو الجھی ہے کڑی الجھن میں
تیرا پیکر فقط اک بھُلی کہانی ہے یہاں
حکمت و عمل کا میزان اٹھا کر اک دن
تجھ کو خود اپنی روایات بنانی ہیں وہاں


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Unrequited Love

Amongst the a.t.m. receipts in my wallet

I gotta ticket           of unrequited love

 

It’s not as simple as the a.t.m receipts, you see —

like you could punch the numbers on the terminal

 

and hit the Green Key for “Here she comes” —

 

She never came out for me

 

even though she’d signed that ticket

with a blue felt-tip pen, and made promises

she would never keep.

 

Unrequited love, I miss you

even though you may have sung me in songs

 

your hopeless muse.

 

If you really have decided to void that ticket,

the time period has expired            f.y.i.

 

and there is nothing you can do about it now

 

You’ll stay larger than life

and me — your audience, holding on to that ticket —

looking like those a.t.m receipts

wit their thermal ink….

 

f a d i n g

 

every passing day

 

as I strive to rub you off my memory

 

and punch numbers, to make a living.

 

Unrequited love, I miss you.