Mom, I’m tired

of siding sun

and riding wind

and hiding evil.

Mom, I’m tired

and weird.

Mom, I’m tired,

that the world is weird.

Fathima Sanna


Tonight we can sink

Isn’t it amazing

to see your twin planet?

Aren’t you lucky

to find your twin planet?

O’ from the miraculously,



expanding universe.

Isn’t it amazing

to see your twin planet?

Aren’t you lucky

to find your twin planet?

Tonight we can sink

into the galaxies to sing

thank yous

for letting us to the way

to meet,

and we can pray

not to be sleet

by you losing my warmth

and me losing your warmth.

Fathima Sanna


Reminder pops up

at the eighteenth candle

to play with creams

and laser

and weighing scale

to extract a new art

within me

to attract whoever is

willing –

to subtract the beauty

in me.

I shout at to shoo,

to play with books

and blazer

and currency,

and they yell

that they have been

in ouch.

Fathima Sanna

Immature marriage

I dig the history of my blood,

and I see a teen with half head

and a hand.

A man rises

in search of house,

and she hides and hides

into the corner.

Mamma pushes her,

and granny with a kitchen knife

over herself.

The poor silence

is trapped in the midst.

Fathima Sanna


Sometimes it’s today, the beautiful day for him to catch you, and for you to catch him, and for both of you to build the cage of love.

He will love your tiny and melodious tone, and you’ll love his squeaky and whispering tone.

He will love your depressing look, and you’ll love his dishevelled and darn matured look.

He’ll have books and poems, and he’ll see his reflection in you, and he’ll grab around your waist, and he’ll seek for utmost love, and he’ll adore all your thorns and petals, and he’ll pray for eternity.

Fathima Sanna