I Am the Egg Woman (ii)

The satisfying
thwack
of spoon
on eggshell

make it crack
peel away
the top

reveal the
white mound
ready for

scooping.
Spoon poised
then it goes in

like predator
with prey
struck helpless
and dumb

(Hannibal
Lecter
with one of
his victims)

dip into
the swimming yolk
not quite solid
yellow-edged
raw lava centre
relished on tongue
mmmmmmm

pure protein power
for pint-sized
proportions

I carefully
scrape out
and consume
every last remain

as if I’m eating
a tiny brain.

I admire
the hollow shell

somehow
still perfect
in its emptiness.

Tapering
ovoid
contains
the void.

What more
beatific form
exists
than this?

Nothing.

Nothing
whatsoever.

© N Nazir 2022

© N Nazir 2022

Shared for dVerse Open Link Night, hosted by Sanaa.

I’m Mute but I’m a Visionary, thought Wednesday #wordless wednesday

Woman by artist Hazard One, Bristol, 2022

© N Nazir 2022

*The first image is also my last on the card for April, shared for Bushboy’s last on the card challenge. These were taken on my phone so they don’t truly justify how eye-popping the paintwork of this mural is. I didn’t share last month’s as it was trash. And the last on the card cannot be trash. I know it’s allowed to be but I won’t share it if it is! Anyway, I won’t say any more as I must remain wordless and don’t wish to upset Wednesday.

Denim Blues #publication

Perhaps you ought to
try out a new groove.

The truth is
I was only pretending to like
your…

…you can read the rest of the poem here.

© N Nazir 2022

*thank you to Whispers and Echoes for publishing my poem. This is the first of three to appear in the coming weeks. I originally wrote it for a Sammi Scribbles prompt some time ago, so I’m delighted it was accepted.

Now this song on the other hand is what I’m talking about. The brass section is simply *kisses fingers* Marvin would be proud.

When the Tide Turns

And I
said unto him
she shall sing, she of the
melting horizons shall sing the
blues.  He

turned to
me and said, but
the moment brings peril
there are demons in the wings, they
lurk, skulk

seek to
silence she of
the melting horizons.
Yet it is writ in star dust, I
said.  We

can do
nothing but bear
witness to her song.  None
can thwart the course of fate.  Yes, a
storm is

coming
we must beware
but first she must take her
stage and break everyone’s heart to
pieces.

© N Nazir 2022

Written for dVerse Poetry Prompt Night, hosted by Laura, who sets us the challenge to write…

…either a cinq-cinquain:

  • a series of 5 [entire] Crapsey Cinquains, 25 lines total
  • syllabic count: 2-4-6-8-2 in each stanza
  • written with or without breaks between stanzas

 OR the cinquain chain/crown cinquain:

  • a series of 5 [entire] Crapsey Cinquains, 25 lines total
  • syllabic count: 2-4-6-8-2 in each stanza
  • written with a break between each stanza
  • last line of the previous cinquain repeated as first line of the next cinquain
  • Note: The final line of the last cinquain does not have to equal the first line of the first cinquain, but it is an option.