Welcome, weary traveler! To my humble abode. Come, come. I'll show you

You know those instances when we start off in the wide, turbulent currents of a river making its way downstream?

Grief is a lonely river, like a fisherman's song with an empty net

I am a poet because you love me

In my deep sleep, you came, my love—

Dust patterns have gathered around my landline phone, huddling around the maroon. my fingerprints take some dust off of it, and they rejoice.

You know how that day the wind brought out/ The crazy thoughts I had in me all the while.

I wove necklaces of lyrics/ Which you'd wear beautifully

You called me close in the moments of grace/ Veiling my delicate senses

Buckets of water I pour on my head; my vision gets blurry./ "The blurrier, the merrier", my mother said.

For poet Abul Hasan Neither the pen nor the camera has changed 

The yard in this noontime is buzzing with/ The white aroma of the guava flower

I’m going through a heartbreak

A reflection on Mahmoud Darwish’s 'A River Dies of Thirst: Diaries' (first published by Archipelago in 2009)

I'm tired of living with this nagging thought that we'll cross paths someday, /You and I

Seventeen Springs cloaked in December, Have flown by.

(For Lutfa, Nayeem, and Aarong Herbal Hair Pack)

The top selections in poetry, flash fiction and artwork for Day 30 of the Sehri Tales challenge; prompt: Cube.

The top selections in poetry, flash fiction and artwork for Day 29 of the Sehri Tales challenge; prompt: Call

The top selections in poetry, flash fiction and artwork for Day 28 of the Sehri Tales challenge; prompt: Urge