Poems by Maha Madadali-
The deep, dark lining of grey and black to my eyes-the lifeless clouds and heart as if crushed under the horse’s feet in a race, I’m sorry if the shrapnels on the street – after I collect the bundled or stapled papers on the street left outside alone by many Someones covered in white and black font that is faded and words could barely be made out of it. A few words carry the news of the world but people still never see the stories bore in its origin; a glass broken, breakfast left uneaten, “your room’s a mess” the morning lectures, camera and tripod, files in hand, work trouble and depression. In the next room, unsettling handprints on reddened cheeks and cries muffled. In the next house, a little girl is stripped of her childhood by her own hero. Boss’ continuous deadline warnings and a teacher’s continuous scolding! Burdened shoulders, invisible handcuffs straining wrists, hands turning into fists, giggles turning into cries, laughter turning into whys, words left unspoken and the jar of hearts broken-hurt because even though I try not to believe it is true but it will happen in the morning after this one too and it won’t stop even if a storm turns everything into ash or lightning starts giving birth to beautiful roses. I wished to the shooting stars and I wished at my first fast, I wished in evening and morning prayers, I wished in the airplane and on the ground, I wished with tears in my eyes and I wished with my soul broken, I wished for I knew how to end this… either ending words to this piece or ending all the thought of bad deeds for this World’s peace… I wished…
Dead for me! I saw her living and thriving at YOUR home!
I didn’t pass by your home tonight. I wouldn’t pass by your home, now maybe for a long time. You see, I dreamt tonight. I dreamt of you; a ghostly complexion… creases on your forehead telling me tales of worry and sadness. It all played like the brown tape of the cassette in which I recorded your voice: your plays and your laughs, your favorite shows, your favorite scented oil and the (forgetting) coconut water seller who keeps asking me why don’t you buy coconut water any longer?
I passed by your home today, and saw her lying in bed peacefully. My hands turning into claws, and big nails pierce her skin, stripping her layer by layer and tossing it into the fire. Ghost of a woman with strawberry lipstick running across the river where the shadows thrive. A snap of my fingers and she’s thrown off in the field of hurricanes, a moonwalking silhouette dripping red currant blood…
Your home’s on my way, it’s lock says someone’s home with a cute little crown on it. My neck is tilting to the side a bit, the girl, on her way, is saying something, when there’s nobody there to listen!
Take slow, soft steps into the devil’s garden
Take only smile carved pumpkins.
Now try to get caught and if you do be his prisoner for the day, dance with him under the moonlight, free and wild like werewolves are made your skin and bones. Smile when he gives you a bouquet of dead roses. Sin with him under the scarlet skies. Praise him and cast spells under your breath. Collect amnesia from his skin.
Ace the killing, murder the clever, make a talisman out of him.
As the raven sheds in its oaken voice, become a sage for sinners, brew the potion, W i T C H C R A F T iN Y O U R VEiNs
Set the woods on fire, boil plastic fangs and water where the shadows swim… And when the souls say God is a she, and she’ll eat thee alive
Sneer and tell them the potion, this black soul brews, is to burn that she alive and thriving!
Let it go
Let the mask fall off
Let me know you
Let me trace every inch of you
Let me praise you
Every way I can.
I’ve fallen way ahead
To only like you
I cannot claim to love you
So what I do
I live you.
I live each breath you take
Every smile you fake
All those little things
That warm your heart
And every vapour of the tear
You do not let fall.
Even endorphins releasing
Behind the mask
Can’t make your eye shine
Like a balloon is ripped
When bloodied cuts on little palm
You still stand
Stand high, you know
Like the king in his courtroom
Sits on a throne higher
You see like him, everyone equal
Everyone deserves to be happy
Even if what smiles they take
Are yours to own.
Let this mask fall
Let me teach you
The art if loving
Summer’s my favorite season
He made me believe in forever
On our bench, he took my heart away
Didn’t say he won’t be there ever
This winter again
In that garden on the same bench
The sun who gave light and warmth to all
And I who became somebody’s world
We’ll be the ones holding our own hands
We’ll get lost on that same bench Summer was never good
Love was heartless since always
I never should’ve ignored the signs Who knew?
To be lost is to get found!
It is loss until you patiently look around
Before the eclipse that day
The sun and I turned the bench around
And look we were found
On the road that lead to eternal love!