O’ my silence

I’m a poet

and this silent mind

is like nature

that attracts my window.

And I sit on the windowpane

to write, but poor!

The lawn turns brown

with people from

left and right houses.

They talk not about-

the songs of birds,

but the dog that limps.

And I lament.

Fathima Sanna

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Weird

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,

calamitously,

beauteously

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

Burdened

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