When you close your eyes

when you close your eyes
to go away with him,
to faraway lands,
up on the hills and mist
and sky full of clouds,
to make him kiss you
on your cheeks,
and down your lips.

when you close your eyes
to go away with him,
to faraway lands,
on the meadows,
under the sky full of
stars and the moon,
to make him recite you
poems after poem.

when you close your eyes
to go away with him,
to faraway lands,
to dance in the rain,
and to lay in a bed
under the same blanket,
to sing a song of love
with a look of ecstasy.

you’re loving someone
who’s so tender and sweet.
you’re loving someone
who does not exist.


© Sanna Wren

Painting by Lorraine Christie (b. 1967, Belfast). Taken from Pinterest

Graveyard

please don’t knock at this door.
this is a strange place.
you may turn white.

all the windows are
closed and blanket–veiled.

what is sun?
there’s no such morning here.

it’s always cold,
and there’s no fireplace.

and you won’t be able
to spot the jigsaw puzzle
of a human’s heart
laying battered here and there.
you may crush them.

this room is a graveyard
of dreams and love.
stay away, there’s no god
here to help you.
stay away, let the evils party.

© Sanna Wren

(the image is taken from Pinterest)

The men and god

there’s a line
between us.
i didn’t cross
the line, and
i can never
cross the line.

but he does,
only to beat me
and threaten me
with scalding words.

and here,
i am sitting
on the bathroom floor,
and cursing the god –
letting out my anger
at the only
irresponsive and safest
figureless man.

© Sanna Wren

( image is taken from Pinterest. Credit goes to the respective artist)

A Singing girl

i see a girl,
sitting on the balcony,
looking at the world,
stringing to the rhythm
of her song,
singing to celebrate her life,

and her hair,
freely waving in the wind,

and i fall in love
with her eyes,
for the sparks of freedom
in her eyes.

© Sanna Wren

(image is taken from Pinterest)

Little girl and her father

she looks at the window,
there’s a little girl and
a father, walking amid
the giant emarald trees,
looking fresh and lively,
after the kissing of soft rain.

so much joy in the pace
of little girl, and the father
must be singing the song
of miraculous love of –
Green world and God,
and hiding sparkling angels.

all of a sudden, the vision
of tender love on the window
is superseded with –
an old pale photo of her album,
of her excited tiny limbs
and her father’s plastered smile.

what’s so worse than
having a living-drained-father ?
what’s so worse than
having a life with dearth of love?
(what’s so worse than
troubled parent-child relation ?)

© Sanna Wren

Angry man

when a man is angry,
keep a good –
distance from him.

when a man is angry,
keep some –
objects in between.

and if there’s no such
barricade, choose not
to throw your words.

if you choose to throw,
his anger will fuel into
wildfire, and scald you.

(if there’s a sword beside
him, there’s a chance
for you to get stabbed to hell.)

dear, life is a blessing.
choose wisely –
when it comes to man.

make sure as hell
that he doesn’t turn into –
hungry zombie when angry.

© Sanna Wren

( image is taken from Pinterest)

woman in the mirror

i look at the mirror,
where am i ?
how could mirror
supersede a 22 year old
girl with an old woman?

this is not me.
this face is old.
this face is dark.
this face is coated,
with too much pain.

this is not me.
this body is empty.
this body is bony.
this body is scalding,
with too much tears.

i look at the mirror,
where am i ?
how could mirror
supersede a 22 year old
girl with an old woman?

© Sanna Wren

Image credit goes to the respective artist. Image is taken from Pinterest.

the Homo sapiens

for me, i am right, and you’re wrong. for you, you’re right, and i am wrong. and there’s hatred in my heart for people like you who resist me. and there’s hatred in your heart for people like me who resist you. for me, the west is biased. and for you, the east is biased. and for the world, the one who stays neutral is dumb as hell.

and there are victims, there are wailings, there are smotherings and there are mournings. and there’s hatred in my heart for people like you who resist me. and there’s hatred in your heart for people like me who resist you.

and there’s a longing, a sweet longing, but an empty longing, a longing for unreal, a longing for peace….

© Sanna Wren

Image is taken from pinterest, Fabian Perez art.

A fragile house

there’s a bleeding teen,
crawling like a snail
with period cramps.
what the fuck!
looking at the blood spot,
and cursing the god.

‘Reka, take this…
take that…’
her mother screams
amid the steam,
with burning spine,
bleeding like a pig.

and the grandma looks
at them with dozing eyes,
amid the darkness of
her wrinkles and freckles,
trying to stretch her
draining legs and hands.

and the father rushes in,
dinner… dinner…
he shakes the house –
what’s this?
no salt. and stale ?
he barks and growls.

© Sanna Wren

( picture is taken from Pinterest. ” A woman peeling vegetables ” by William Kay Blacklock )