A new poem by Ayesha Salman. The images are stark and the colours surreal. Please do comment so AS gets some feedback from the poetic-minded.

I am
Head sick splattered
I am like unused ink
searching the blue crow
yet to feast on half dead things
that square into me, fixing me in my place

Waxy faced crow arrives
Blowing a pink kiss to the sky
Where the wind will chop it up
Dizzily drinking up my words with it
Consuming the decay of the bits I shed

Water weight of this growing abyss
Fills me with wit
For a world I weave again
Then falter
And wait for the night
when the womb of sleep will fold me in

More poems by Ayesha can be found here, here and here. She has been published in the Smoke Magazine, UK; and regularly contributes to Jahane Rumi.

4 Responses to Water weight of this growing abyss

  1. kinkminos says:

    i went to the “two poems with fresh diction” entry, but no motherly love did i find. there also two placeholders for pictures which didn’t display (one was a photo on *flickr*, which is entirely blocked in the uae, no doubt so that we perverts won’t be further perverted by flickr’s perverse perversions).

    i have fallen in love with the lines:

    “We live in the shade,
    you and i
    the cold white light between us”

  2. RR says:

    many thanks..
    perhaps you could not read the poems as the picture sites are blocked in the not so holy land you live in..

    try this:

    If it doesn’t work then I will try and post them there

    yes I like these lines as well

  3. Raza says:


    The clock digests time
    between soft, blue words

    As I watch the great moth fade
    I smile beneath my sheets

    Blood tulip of your deafening womb
    nourishes despair

    I breathe the remains
    of your dust baked hair

    A moment renewed
    with the sound of your voice

    A sermon told
    through a rose washed breeze

    More painful than a butterfly
    unready to die

  4. temporal says:

    why is the comment window so narrow raza?



    how long have you been working on this?

    while i think i got the over all thrust i feel it needs a little more work

    nice lines and rich metaphors

    lacks some segueing

    (for instance) here:

    Head sick splattered
    I am like unused ink
    searching the blue crow

    but here is a caveat – am just a small-time poet so what do i know;)

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Translate »