‘I’ dopps the ego out,
only the quotation marks are left
and an empty space in between.
‘You’ loses its meaning
and you still manifest your unseen presence.
My ‘I’ touches you
my ‘I’ smells you
my ‘I’ feels your heat
my ‘I’ smiles at your ‘you’.
You are here and your body isn’t a defined figure yet.
Your breath is part of my breathing.
I am a breathing only
I am my senses only
I am not a firm body.
A zahir cannot be rhymed in poetry
A zahir cannot even be explained
A zahir can only take you to the edge
and make you question about the meaning of your existence.
So many verses:
and yet a zahir only.
No, my existence doesn’t make sense,
nor my madness is safe anymore.
Cowards, my beloved one,
never make their own nest!
Each night when she turns the lights down
she puts in her wardrobe her invisible crown
half dressed she sits on the left side of her bed
a zahir although always present, in an instance spreads.
It emerges when her scent is mixed with her sorrows
it turns into ghost questioning for her tomorrows
it scares her not, since it’s a shadow she already knows
it gives her in a way her daily attention doze.
A gentleman would care for a lady until her he gains
but the ghost wanted nothing, only to know her pains
he would float in the room until she wants to sleep
until she falls tired knowing a ghost all her secrets keeps.
And each morning as the dawn is approaching
not to give up and start again she is her self coaching
then she realises a ghost is only an imaginary friend
and a ghost have no firm body for our face all in tears to bend.
Categories: beauty, life, love
Tags: dark, friend, ghost, imagine, life, light, love, pain, woman, zahir
She looked for a figure all around
To erase the shadows and all her wounds.
She found only few admirers
Infected by ‘cheap beauty’ viruses.
The – what she wanted – was long time dead
It rested between the pages she wrote or read.
Even seeing in the eyes of an old soul she remembered
Made her question of her ‘maktub’, although she trembled.
And so in a way trying to overcome by denying fear
His shadow so latent became her eternal zahir.
There was no need of any further glitter
Since she touched the essence, she understood the ether.
And though the pride or fear of the modern time existed
It was the biggest shift, since she many times twisted.
Now and never were either way an illusion
Splashed in her verses, love was her eternal fusion.
Tags: fear, love, shadow, zahir