This Poem Got Up Late

Photo by rovenimages.com on Pexels.com

The world is ablaze.  Unrest unrests.  Winter exits, slow, blurry-eyed.  Blossoms push through oblivious, say, what did I miss?  Oh, nothing much, frowns Winter, just some idiot wants a pan-Slavic universe and sent a bunch of tanks to persuade everyone.  Oh, says blossom, nodding, what’s a tank?

*

Hey, said the mercenaries, roll over.
Be gone, demon! said the people. 
You’ll regret that, said mercenaries. 
To the death! yelled the people and charged.
Mercenaries climb back into their tanks, tutting
but momentarily thwarted.

*

What does the poet know?  Their words are not ammunition, no one understands them half the time.
M’sieu, the poet knows everything, they just code it up.
What’s the point of that?  So only a select few get it?  Isn’t that a bit smug?
I think it’s cause they’re shy.
I’d say it’s criminally vulgar.

*

Is change the same as transformation?  How?  Why not?
The quandariness of skirmish.
The giantess of disorder. 
The anatomy of the twisted days.

*

Just throw all the words at it, see what happens, says poet.
Forget words, I want ice cream, says poet friend.
Don’t you care?  Our stunted spring blows strange winds
and you want ice cream, says poet.
Well, I already ate my words, said poet friend
and I’m still hungry. 

*

Russian soldiers swan into a house, frighten a woman’s elderly father.  Get out, she screams, clumsily tries to brandish a weapon she has never used.  They look at each other then back at her.  Relax, they say, we’re only looking for food and smokes.  Got any?  Hands shaking, she gives them some and they leave.  Fuming, she glares lasers at their departing backs.  The fucking audacity.

© N. Nazir 2022

Written for Shay’s Word Garden, where Shay gives us inspiration with Edna St Vincent Millay (who I had never heard of before now). Words used: winter, blossoms, idiot, swan (changed from swans).

Shared for dVerse Open Link Night, hosted by Lisa and Sanaa.

*The phrase ‘criminally vulgar’ is taken from a Smiths song.

Stream of Consciousness II

Great-White-Shark-3D-

Divorcee. What a funny label. I have divorced myself from matrimony. I am matrimonially removed. Keep your ring finger away from me. You won’t take me up the aisle. I don’t care how big your rocks are. Let’s play a game of truth or dare and let it play out to a good ripe conclusion. That would get my rocks off. So would a party that breaks all the rules, it would be just the tonic everyone needs. A celebration that spits in the face of tradition and makes a ceremony of the ridiculous. Where both prim and proper and coarse and obscene must reside as neighbours, for the party is always so much better when the prim and proper are there to shock. Send me an invite or I will gatecrash anyway.

forget-me-not-1365857_960_720

2d77f23f68f67e969b96176abbf013fc

The Kama Sutra of kissing. Even if you wrote a book about it, it can’t be taught. It’s sensuality and artistry and timing and taste and all kinds of other things in between.

* * *

The winner takes it all. But when they lose, the thing they lose really hurts. Or it hurts them that everyone else loses because of them.

ace-ventura-when-nature-calls

Why do people eat shark’s fin? What is it about the fin? Those motherfuckers need to leave sharks alone.

Kissing

I don’t go for blonds. Or brunettes. Or redheads. I don’t have a type. It’s something that shines outward I go for. I can’t explain it. Something sparkly when the light catches their eyelashes or something. It’s an essence or a spice. Like coriander or lemongrass. Subtle, sharp, pervasive, perfumed. All that and more.

winter-sunshine_050446534

Hast thou the flower there? Welcome, wanderer.

* * *

Who says meal worms can’t climb out of their bowl? They’re desperate to be a new thing, not just fodder for the dragons. But the blind lazy ones don’t mind being food, because the dragons need to bloom. Their warm chubby bellies as they wriggle up your forearm. Their bright little eyes as they regard you sideways and lick you for recognition. Their sharp little spikes and darkening scales when they get annoyed. Melt. Dragons are love.

50s-dance-party-rockabilly-vintage-Favim.com-223051

I can feel the whispering ghost of winter’s beauty in the air even though summer hasn’t yet grown ripe. I love winter’s whispering beauty, it always comes upon me at this time of year. It hints at something intimate and loving just out of reach but attainable at a given time. The ghost of this wish has always been with me. It excites me and I have no idea why.

Dragon

You need to deal out a different medicine for different people. They all require an individual remedy. Some need to swallow their own bitter pill to meet the transformation they are so ardently seeking.

© N Nazir 2020

*photos taken from i-stock and film stills off the internet
The text to each image is deliberately jumbled up so you have to piece it together at the end. I don’t know why I chose to do it that way, it just felt right.

Stream of Consciousness II

Great-White-Shark-3D-

Divorcee.  What a funny label.  I have divorced myself from matrimony.  I am matrimonially removed.  Keep your ring finger away from me.  You won’t take me up the aisle.  I don’t care how big your rocks are.  Let’s play a game of truth or dare and let it play out to a good ripe conclusion.  That would get my rocks off.  So would a party that breaks all the rules, it would be just the tonic everyone needs.  A celebration that spits in the face of tradition and makes a ceremony of the ridiculous.  Where both prim and proper and coarse and obscene must reside as neighbours, for the party is always so much better when the prim and proper are there to shock.  Send me an invite or I will gatecrash anyway.

forget-me-not-1365857_960_720
2d77f23f68f67e969b96176abbf013fc

The Kama Sutra of kissing.  Even if you wrote a book about it, it can’t be taught.  It’s sensuality and artistry and timing and taste and all kinds of other things in between.

* * *

The winner takes it all.  But when they lose, the thing they lose really hurts.  Or it hurts them that everyone else loses because of them.

ace-ventura-when-nature-calls

Why do people eat shark’s fin?  What is it about the fin?  Those motherfuckers need to leave sharks alone.

Kissing

I don’t go for blonds.  Or brunettes.  Or redheads.  I don’t have a type.  It’s something that shines outward I go for.  I can’t explain it.  Something sparkly when the light catches their eyelashes or something.  It’s an essence or a spice.  Like coriander or lemongrass.  Subtle, sharp, pervasive, perfumed.  All that and more.

winter-sunshine_050446534

Hast thou the flower there?  Welcome, wanderer.

* * *

Who says meal worms can’t climb out of their bowl?  They’re desperate to be a new thing, not just fodder for the dragons.  But the blind lazy ones don’t mind being food, because the dragons need to bloom.  Their warm chubby bellies as they wriggle up your forearm.  Their bright little eyes as they regard you sideways and lick you for recognition.  Their sharp little spikes and darkening scales when they get annoyed.  Melt.  Dragons are love.

50s-dance-party-rockabilly-vintage-Favim.com-223051

I can feel the whispering ghost of winter’s beauty in the air even though summer hasn’t yet grown ripe.  I love winter’s whispering beauty, it always comes upon me at this time of year.  It hints at something intimate and loving just out of reach but attainable at a given time.  The ghost of this wish has always been with me.  It excites me and I have no idea why.

Dragon

You need to deal out a different medicine for different people.  They all require an individual remedy.  Some need to swallow their own bitter pill to meet the transformation they are so ardently seeking.

© N Nazir 2016