When You Steal Back What Was Yours

I take the wilting flower, caress it to life again.  The only sign in this underbelly.  In a globe of dusk, I walk, camouflaged.  The puddles show me onward, rippling with night sensitivity.  Or the breath of wolves. Unseen, they pace in the alleys.  

I wear protection.  I’ve passed through Hades before.  It changes its face the moment you turn.  This one I have seen.  It can’t hide its truth, I know it too well, having fallen then risen.  Always it tempts me with falling. But it only made a poet of me.  Next time, my revolution will take some of you wolves with me. By the scruff of your transformation.

Galaxies stir above the broken crowns of houses like teeth and the street is deserted as I swoop through, tailcoats flapping in an unsure wind. Deserted but watchful. I see you too.  You’re wondering if I’m one of yours but sense I’m not.  Still, you recognise me.  Eyes.  Sideways. Everywhere.  

Time is short, I hurry on.  The window mustn’t close before I’ve passed.  They would thwart me if they could and I feel the softness of plotting in the night.  Their uncertainty buys me time.  I step over the threshold that burns with the holy traces for those who can see.

Come then.  Show yourself.  Cross over if you will.

© N Nazir 2023

Written for Shay’s Word Garden, where we are given inspiration with Michael McClure. Words used: globe, sensitivity, wolves, Hades, poet, revolution, galaxies, crowns, swoop.

Written also for The Sunday Muse, image as shown.

Rain ‘o’ Clock

Photo by Katherine Mihailova on Pexels.com

Truth-spilling into marginalia, my scribbling overflow.  Word gypsies.  The blank page and permission to emote.  My hands seem older than me, my little brown hands.  Fluttering to my face, my hair.  My roots.  Need enlightening.

I want to join the cult of cats if they’d let me. In the boulevard of parallel ugh-ness.  I’d probably have to be initiated.  I’d give up before they even miaowed their instructions at me and stalk away, bemused.  You can’t tell me what to do, you glaring of felines.  I’m a scarecrow in disguise and I’m not sorry.

Paint some washes of denim-blue and dive in, everything you need to know is there.  And yet.  

The rippling sea bed is alive with octopi hiding from those they thought were their sea buddies but who were secretly planning to eat them.  It really is quite dreadful.

But it’s okay. For there are always dolphins. And those dudes have got your back.

Not a smart-ass, just bookish and curious-orange. You spot patterns, you see how they’ll unfurl. You may stay.  Or take your leave, knowing what will happen.  It’s not psychic, it’s just being on this planet does that to you.

Anyway, it’s lovely to meet you, how are you?

© N Nazir 2023

© Diego Romeo

Written for Shay’s Word Garden where we are given inspiration with Randy Newman. Words used: overflow, gypsies, boulevard, scarecrow(s), sorry, smart-ass.

Written also for dVerse Poetry Prompt, hosted by Grace, who challenges us to write a poem using word play, specifically the literary devices of anthimeria, kennings or oxymorons.

The World is Your Lobster #Visual Verse Publication

Image by Adriaen van Utrecht / Rijksmuseum

Yes. Feast your eyes. I am centrepiece, after all. Summer’s expanding belly come to laze, somnolent. The sun, a kind benevolence on this good life. Eat your fill and be done. I siesta, waiting for you, of all the ways you’ll bite . . .

. . . you can read the rest of the poem here.

© N Nazir 2023

*My greatest thanks to Visual Verse for publishing my poem this month ❤ And so nice to see many of my fellow bloggers also make it in! It’s like we’ve got VV covered! From all the submissions in the world, the WP bloggers are all over it 🙂


*Shared for dVerse Open Link Night, hosted by Bjorn.