Sunday, December 1, 2024

MARYAM H. VIQAR

 


 

Random Words From My Text Box

 

I have attached

my resume,

a few poems

and whispers

for reference

While you are asleep

I am going to see

Where the sunlight

Hides

Behind the golden daisies

and

Kindly,

find the best meaning for

Love in my dreams

You can be a good friend

 and I will write you

a poem of the bright day

And the star

That shone

Last night

Above my roof

But these are all words

Resumes and poems

While You

may be just a little more

than the reluctant moon

From behind the clouds

On a frosty day.

 

Mausoleums

 

Brought up In a world of blood and soot

Strategic technologies and firearms

Life's flower trampled by soldier's boots

Amidst the cybernated bullets' swarm

  Where do I go?

 

How people are forced to leave their homes

Forsaking boundaries they can't defend

As refugees, strange lands they must roam

And leave behind the graves of friends

 Where do I go?

 

Not just artifacts once treasured, rest

Under the debris of bombed museums

The jets and drones flew away and left

Culture, History's sullied mausoleums

   Where do I go?

 

My garden was bombed by men who cried

In a language foreign, they could not spell

Names of universities, they destroyed

On demolished schools, now angels dwell

 Where do I go?

 

With the warmth undue, as the glaciers melt

Quintessential effects of wars and firearms

Humanity's very foundations, knelt

It's time to look back, we weren't born to harm

  Where do I go?

 

Damaged, choked up with chemical dust

The seeds in soil lie quietly waiting

For the final end of power's lust

And days with morning's gentle breaking

  Where do I go?

 

Be born again, to old habits bid adieu

Phantoms from the past shall disappear

With grassy fields, in a world most new,

Mornings most dewy and skies most clear

 

Musings Of An Unsound Mind

 

Unsteadily trapped

In the quagmire of thought

Diabolical in spirit

Metaphorically adrift

Disease penetrating

the wandering mind

Though sound

but gradually

Growing apart

Fogged up cranium

Tattered heart

What treachery

What manipulation

Undergoing to dissolve

The scruples into dust

Starry dreams turning

Into long darkness

 creeping up

Walls closing in

Ground gives in

Under the feet

Fall is inevitable

No light beckoning

At the far end of tunnel

Breathe deep

and just let go

For the thoughts

Swallow like quick sand

Thoughts which sear

Until the burns turn

Into ash and soot.

 

MARYAM H. VIQAR

 

MARYAM H. VIQAR: The writer has been an ardent reader since a very young age. She has published poems in online magazines like The Ugly Writers as well on her credit. Apart from that there is nothing wrong with her. To recall Van Gogh 'The sight of the stars makes her dream'


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