remnants like wolf hell
in full-bellied ghost mass
hold promise of perfect heaven,
flesh roseate and silver.
I promise never to refuse the sensuous wolf.
© N Nazir 2021
The magnificent twilight
is spread out
like a temple.
*No one says how do you do? I doubt even the queen does.
Shared for dVerse Open Link Night
There is only ink on my hands
sinking into skin, I barely noticed.
How my restraint never lasts
for once again, I stain a good skirt,
what a shame the paint is colourfast.
I came storm born, my origin story,
one I can’t explain for its twists and turns
and shifting sands and unmooring
– why am I unmoored? –
in the ocean of it all.
Distance means nothing with kin,
neither does closeness with the unchosen.
Respect is something that must be taught
and somehow still, poetry wells up in me
and surges out with its own will, needing
to make sense from all the words that make no sense.
Daylight pragma is dispelled
as dogged determination to master the art of dreaming
remains elusive yet within my grasp, as I clutch
web-like wishes that spun unbidden in the night
from some locked away pocket in my heart.
Yet the meaning of it all, the sonorous morning
lays itself at my threshold, an offering of forces
the language of the universe in lengthening shadows
the packed molecules of potential in the electrosphere
the forgiveness of large spaces – put your grief here and there
seek relief – because the human condition wills an exchange
between you and all the other regions of supernature
to provoke your transformation out of you, the one you needed
the one you didn’t know you manifestly asked for.
© N Nazir 2021
Written for dVerse Poetry Prompt to write a cadralor poem, hosted by Bjorn. A cadralor poem consists of five unrelated numbered stanzas that each stand alone as whole imagist poems. The fifth stanza acts as the crucible to the poem, pulling the oblique theme running throughout the stanzas together into a type of love poem that ultimately asks the question: for what do you yearn?