The Unseen Bruises

The Unseen Bruises

Today's cloudless blue sky hid her pain,

she displayed a sunny disposition but her eyes hid the rain,

Pathetic fallacy is rendered meaningless.


Demeaning stares, but she triumphantly smiles to hide the bleakness,
Not wanting to depict her emotion - a sign of weakness,
A hollow victory nonetheless.

Emotional blackmail kept her at bay,
"Beggars can't be Choosers" is what they used to say,
So she's Waking up to an abyss.


There was a life-scarring storm before an everlasting calm,
Day-dreams brought about thoughts of self-harm,
Sharp words & internal bleeding.

The Sleeping beauty tormented by her dreams,
Nightmares trapped her intermittent screams,
Even Escapism offered her no exit.

Pregnancy was her respite,
A short prelude to the rest biting
Back to emotional agony.

The blessing of a new life,
The metamorphosis from wife to mother,
But the Butterflies colour was temporary.

The first adopted the wrong genes, showing her disdain,
Confused by the betrayal, she struggled to stay sane,
Torn apart to shreds but not one bruise.

She craved the silver lining to her cloud,
surrounded by a crowd but she never felt more alone,
some suffer in silence, some suffer out-loud.

Suffering patiently hoping for an end.
Enough was enough. Too tired to Pretend,

The Naked eye simply saw the body,

"No bruises" - perplexed onlookers pondered.

The Post Mortem never detected her broken soul.

Me, My Ego and I

You pierce the esteemed I.
With your disapproving gaze
You damage my insecurity proof vest
and leave me torturing myself in various ways.


But I'm still in awe of You.
My sycophantic rants should not stress you,
don't think my self-hating speak is formed to berate you
I simply seek an outlet for Us.


Some seek betterment,
but you simply think you're better than, me.
Why assume a higher position?
Leaving me on the death bed seeking a spiritual physician?

You always seem to build yourself up
sky-high, you've probably seen the stars
but not the space,
(a)voiding the fact that you're obsessed with Uranus

You shrug at the lack of light
but the birds eye view you occupy
gave you the lofty perspectives of the grim night
And what is the truth to a brilliant lie?

nothing, You are
even dwarfing yourself,
even Self is astounded by the fact
that you scarcely see nothing else

The inner me wants more
but your insatiable desire
makes me think "What For?"
I choose victory in perpetual war

I almost made peace with me
I hope The One witnesses this,
but You convinced me This was bliss,
and I'm left bewildered with you.

As I look in the reflection
The warts of my soul are evident
my gnostic body suffers infection
I look at you and all I see is arrogant decadence

This mustn't be you
This can't be me.
But as a great poet once said:
"Between the mirror and the heart
is this single difference:
the heart conceals secrets,
while the mirror does not."

She

Doves fly in her pulsing veins

The queen of hearts defiantly reigns

She pushed her doubting lovers away

An act to keep her tears at bay

With violent volcanoes come vast landscapes

When lava is put out by raging waves

Nature forfeits herself as well as she gains

Finding her rhythm though constant change



By Alaa Kassim 

I want to make 'It'

I perspire, you perspire. To fulfil
the desire to leave a lasting legacy,
so when we leave this earth we appreciate the energy
input, the inner initiative to inspire

But don't sweat it, I do this to hear the choir
singing my praises
to observe the wanton gazes
and to know it's me who they want.

finally
fool stop.

a chance to breathe. 
constantly under siege
by the outer, pressured
to prove the doubter
wrong.

You do what you do for you.
& none of the above.
except for the one.  You must find and love.


we want to make it,
'it' is not seen or known
not even set in stone,
not naturally produced or grown,

What did we want before 'it' existed?

Lost for Thoughts

Lost for Thoughts

Tributaries of emotion flowing to a river of words
Dam, blocked by the sweetened poison,
perceived to be 'pure,'
adulterated honey.

Cheating on your self.

False is crystallized into imagined ideas
So
I
am
Lost for thoughts

Vanity pervades every nostril
it's lingering stench
it's sickening hollow smell
every mirror used to admire my superfluous wings

I forgot why the cage bird sings
But I do know it looks beautiful
or so I've been told by the pseudo sage.


Rage, pungent & rampant
flowing through our veins
blood-boiling
lava-exploding
fault-exposing.
But the blind man see's better than the angry man.


curious, envious enigmas
Are Our insignias.

boxes reprimand unearthliness
thinking outside is suicide
social. networking is the world

the art of dis-course is tarnished
still, varnish is nailed onto the disquisition
so a shining gleam is sown, and its seeds
crave position...

The chosen-one syndrome
an ailment so vile, a fake smile
is a common self-sacrifice
to get far.
But to where?


The fog of pride disguised by humility
humanity died, is the cannibalistic dog culpable.


Rhetoric is the language of the modern man
so I will make like the proverbial oracle
and ask myself.

When we think,
are we truly expressing ourselves
Or the desires of our self?

Have we made our mind up?
If I think the reasons for my thinking
the process has me blinking.

Lost for thoughts.  Nothing more to think.

Dear Mother Britain - The Film!

 Watch the film Words Apart made over the summer: Dear Mother Britain, 12 young people (poets and free-runners) from Barnet, Camden & Haringey discuss what being British means!

http://vimeo.com/32940007

The Unseen Eye

*Put on blindfold*

The last thing I saw before perpetual night. 
Was a lions figure in the clouds sketched into light,
So I guess a found the truth in time.

When it hit me... 
As black does.. 
Everything became smaller.  
Everything lost its order, 
my eyes began to turn to face & brain, 
and now I was a spectator watching the other senses game.

As my seeing stopped.
My hearing could pick up every decibel of a pin drop.


As I lost sight of my tears. 
My nose learnt how to smell fear. 


As my vision forgot how it behaves, 
I begun feeling the folds within waves. 


When I turned blind.
With no relation to anything metaphoric I was able to taste bitterness.
and for the first time in a long time, 
I told the time without seeing it.

Truth be told. Time was saved. 
I did not have to close my eyes to think any more, Nor did I need to close my eyes to focus.
and you may not know this, 
but I've been told that once your inner eye has seen your inner self, 
you find peace within.

So now I will hide away. 
Basque in the glory of my ones with self. I will eventually accept, 
and grow to reverence my lack of physical sight. 
With time. 


In my blindness I will learn to rejoice,
Even if it was by force and not by choice.



By Sophia Thakur 
Follow on Twitter: @SoundWordsmith