The Man I Love

One of my favourite poems. Can't help it - I really love it. I hope Mohja Kahf will keep on writing poems like this. I should write to her...one fine day, Insyaallah.

 

p/s: thank you loveinshallah.com.

A Man Who Washes Dishes

by

Mohja Kahf

 

I love a man who clears my table
I love a man who knows how to use
a wire scouring brush on my pots
till they sparkle so
He brings out my shine
 

I love a man who washes my dishes,
making small soapy circles with his manly hands
around the curves of my delicate glassware,
sliding lathery down the slimmest stem
 

I love a man who moves patiently
around my kitchen, turning like a deft spatula,
remembering the places and purposes
of every latch, knob, and cubby
 

 

I love a man who takes responsibility
in the tired aftermath of a meal
down to the wiping of the last counter,
chasing the last honeyed crumb
into the moist corners of the basin,
 

neatly grinding the coiled peel of the final tangerine
He is not afraid to descend into the maelstrom of the disposal
and explore the sharp blades with naked fingers–
I love a man who washes my dishes

 

 

CollateralDamage



depositphotos.com



In a juvenile war

named TugofLouv,

they were

each other's Unintended -

a collateral damage.

She was.

He still is.

OOOooo poor.

that juvenile thing.

p/s: she is moving on...Bravo She!!!

sugars

She is refined, He - coarse.
they both, sugar.
sweet.

ajari aku

perempuan,

ajari aku tentang kasih tentang rindu

bersemi sendi pada yang Satu.

tolong jangan,

hidangi aku rintih kalbu sepicis

pasti saja jiwaku punah dimamah iblis.

ajari aku perempuan,

kuat mengimani Tuhan

yakinkan aku hikmah percaturan

pasti jadi, jika Dia berkehendakkan…

p/s: terkesan dari  “Ajari Aku” lontaran Anuar Zain…



Beautiful Feelings...

What

is

this Feeling?

warming the half-frozen Heart

budding Love

so Tender

the Heart

lulled deep in

Beauty's slumber.

That now melting Heart

blanketed with

Mesmerizing Peace

hoping for nothing

but

the forever Bliss.

Always

wanting of Dreams

the

dreams Unfinished.

Dear, God...

jus what is This?

p/s: Viva Forever to LOVE & PEACE

I AM VEILED & I AM LIBERATED!

A chatting with a Filipino male speaker in one of the conferences I attended years ago ignites this. This is a list of answers to his bold yet innocent question “Do you have many women without veil here [Malaysia], the more liberated women???

Always a wordy writer I am, I initially wanted to pen down a long piece of writing, expressing my thoughts on this matter. Shame on me - long years it takes and it never gets done.

My pre-maturely “dead” essay was revisited, today while I was attending a workshop and this long piece of poetry is a fruit of my refreshed brain, re-energized mind, just a tiny drop from my deep sea of answers as to “HOW does it feel, WHAT does it mean being covered/hijabed/tudung-ed/veiled. This is a political me – a tudung-ed Malay Muslim who chooses words as a means of expression. 

I AM VEILED & I AM LIBERATED!

Yes, Mam!

I’m veiled, I’m liberated

For my hijab doesn’t cut my quick steps

It suppresses not, great things in my head.

Yo, Sistah!

My hijab is always on, I’m liberated

That piece of pashmina, cotton or lycra doesn’t trim my intelligence

It doesn’t cage my independence.

Yup, Buddy!

I’m covered, am I not liberated?

My cover doesn’t torture my brain

It has never made me gone insane.

Hola, friends

I’m tudung-ed, I am liberated

My veil, emasculates not my words

My mind crystal cleared, My strong voice clearly heard

Hello, companéra!

I’m liberated and I’m hijabed

This head cover of mine doesn’t deactivate my persistence

It doesn’t freeze my very existence.

Yes Sir!

tudung-ed I am and I am liberated

This colourful thing doesn’t explode my future

It goes never against my human nature.

Ooo yeaah Dude!

My head is “wrapped” but I’m liberated

My symbol of faith doesn’t make me “not fun”

This thing makes me shine, as pretty as the morning sun!

Hiya, Kiddo!

My tudung doesn’t make me naively obedient

It buries me not under discrimination

This piece doesn’t cause me gender repression.

Hello, Alls!

I’m veiled/ “wrapped”/covered/tudung-ed & hijabed

This gentle piece of mine, doesn’t kill my mind

It doesn’t make me drowned, it doesn’t chop me down.

Hello, ALLS!

What is this frown? Wrinkled forehead? Dropped jaw? Angered heart?

YES! ALLS

I’m covered / “wrapped”/ tudung-ed

I am VEILED & I am HIJABED

and

of course I am TRULY LIBERATED!

Lalang Putih...

lalang putih serumpun

di tanah baruh Desa Kepala

bukan bukti tanahnya mati

bukan terbiar tak berhuni.

tanah kosong berlalang putih

bukan tanda malas empunya

luas kurang lebih sejengkal

tiada tertanam buah yang bebal.

berliuk -lintuk lalang keputihan

mencambah akar mendebu benih

dari baruh melebar ke hulu

tanda subur isi berpadu.

merimbun lalang putih

mendakap sejengkal tanah

tanda tanah dipunya

Pemikir arif nan bijaksana.

Provoking the Unprovoked Mind

Your Honour:

I was provoking a young unprovoked mind when he suddenly put a stop! He said "Apologies as I can't take it anymore for both my young thought and green heart seem to be beautifully provoked. I welcome the former, am terribly frightened of the latter. I just...sorry...I just cannot take the sweet provocation any longer"

I have no words to say but smiling inside..

I rest my PROVOKED THE UNPROVOKED MIND case, Your Honour!

I rest my case...I'll put it aside...

A Boring She

What a boring she

She is

a pathetic thinker

almost

drown in the darkest ambiguity and vagueness

sometimes

lost

in a cruel sea of answers... 

She asked Me questions

demanding meanings

offering ones

I just left and bid

Her good bye...

good bye

my soul

good bye...

My rude leave, celebrated

She breathes still
I 

thought She could never survive... 

but

I?died...

have I really died?








p/s: am clueless am clueless am clueless am clueless am clueless am clueless am clueless am clueless am clueless....

Puitis Aku: Puisi 2

Dia Wanita Hebat

semalaman

terlantar

dia sendiri

tanpa teman

sepi

di katil rumah sakit

tukar perkhabaran

bertanya rasa

kongsi perit duka

tanpa hujan dimatanya

tanpa guruh di kotak suara

dia bicara:

"tak mengapa...saya redha..."

aduhai,

cukup hebat wanita itu

tenang, redha bersatu

dia
baru saja melahirkan

ke dunia

seorang lelaki tidak bernyawa

tak mengapa...

 seadanya

dia terima

Anugerah sesaat dariNYA...

coretan hati terkumpul

5.00 ptg, Mei 3 2012

Wad Antenatal

Hospital Temerloh

Troubled...

of meeting & falling

troubled souls

yes

we both...

meeting at the wrong place

falling 

at 

the 

very

 wrong time

how could it be

wrong?

when neither You nor I

could

ever try...

will we ever dare to try?

The Poetic Me:Poem 2

3 Little Paws..

they cried

one early morning

while

i was sweeping.

so tiny

those 3 little paws

left alone

eyes blinded..lids glued shut

tangled cords

untouched

bodies chewed by

cold's madness

they were

screaming for love and mommie's lick

devoid of motherly touch and

the warmth of milk

I

wept.

one

on Monday gone..

yesterday

the other one gone

another one

to me this rainy morning- said

"so sweet this death,

i'm holding the last breath,

sadly denied of my mom's breasts

yet now

so happily close

under my Master's bless"

that last tiny little paw

he bid me adieu

whispered

"for the care and the warmth of

your humane touch

we 

thank you

up there

we'll wait for you"

once again

cheeks flooded

the dam of my tears

burst

exploded.

Puitis Aku: Puisi 2

April, Selamat Datang...

April, selamat datang...

kau kembali dan

pergi hilang

bawa khabar

kematangan

tunjuk kisah

keinsafan

papar

sejarah

kebodohan

lampau

yang aku ukir atas kertas

hidup

itu aku

aku

yang dulu...

April, selamat datang

bawakan aku seloka-seloka indah..

tapi tolong

jangan aku

lemas

terhanyut

nikmat hidup

yang tak sudah...

Maaf April,

andai kunjungan kali

ini

tiada apa

yang berubah...

Puitis Aku: Puisi 1

Gurindam Buat Yang “Berjuang”

   Duhai yang berjuang…

Perjuangan apa,

sikit hari kita berjuang, lebih waktu kita bergebang?

Perjuangan apa,

jika misi bertaburan lari, visi kuncup tak menjadi?

Perjuangan apa,

kalau denau takut dijelajah, kalau hulu malu diredah?

Perjuangan apa,

jika batil menjadi hak, jika hak tak termutlak?

Perjuangan apa,

kalau diri gemerlap indah, rakyat jelata jerih tak sudah?

Perjuangan apa,

jika harta tak terbilang, wang ringgit bebas terbang?

                                                                   Perjuangan apa,              

                                       kalau kata jadi nista, kalau sumpah tersimbah noda?         

Perjuangan apa,

jika hati lusuh hancur, jika tanah di gadai di lacur?

Perjuangan apa,

kalau bibir tulus menipu, lidah lancar ampu diampu?

Perjuangan apa,

jika rumah dibongkar musnah, jika diri lemah terjajah?

Perjuangan apa benarnya…

saudara jadi hempedu, musuh jadi madu, marhaen di adu domba, di akhir kisah pacal hina yang jadi mangsa?

Perjuangan apa? Perjuangan apa benarnya?


P/S: Gurindam ni pernah cuba di hantar ke BH sastera.tapi tidak berbalas..adakah dek nukilanku yang lepas? bahasaku yang tak berkias? ideaku yang tak tuntas?Tapi tak mengapa...pedulikan aja...rasa hati akan tetapku luahkan juga...ciao!

The Poetic Me:Poem 1

Abeted Soul!

Abeted now, my passion!

long gone with the stormy wind

how could that monster abduct my patience?

I no longer know the seed of my limp.

"You need a drug", I told myself

"... that sparks rainbows in your morbidity"

"Go and find and get it yourself!"

My sick soul talking back to me.

I go and go and find and get

a godly cure for this inner limp

I go and find and get a mat

I weep, I cry, I talk to HIM .

Abeted soul now regains control

to HIM I walk, I talk, I hold

that ghost in me now losing goal

screaming!howling!cursing foul.

I thanketh HIM for the long strong grip

my senses returned, my foe beaten

to HIM I promise to hold, to commit

till on stone I have my name written 

till dirt and earth cover my sleep

till dirt and earth bury me deep