In the Name of Love

Prologue Heer was sitting on a bedstead set at the roof. It was a clear night and moonlight was illuminating everything; the mountains, the trees, wrinkles of her face, the straight unsmiling lips and shadows hidden in her eyes. Her eyes were trained on her hands lying in her lap.   “so, I am old now.”

Poetry|The bloody globe

I just want peace was my litany So deprived of this word my ears I feel blood seeping from my eyes Rather than tears And I taste the taste of copper My tongue wary of food it touches That rivers have flown of this blood On this very earth               What do I tell of my

I am a woman

I was not thinking about it but it just came to me The moment of truth, the realisation That in moral, I am not independent And all because I am a woman They blow the horns of deception and lies Keep singing you are independent But the whisper behind the hands reach to me On

I am and I am not.

Sitting there on the table, drinking tea I am just a dot sometimes needed and sometimes not I was dispersing like smoke Scattered like wind a fist full of colour or a misty smog dying the sky or a summer song like in the morn I saw when and it was not when, it was