In F Minor Key

When she flags down the bus of forgiveness,
steps on and pays the price to go

the distance, and sits down next to
trepidation who smells like a street

full of crocodiles and iguana skins,
while she sees grief and sadness holding

placards on street corners advertising
communication at no cost for a limited

time. This is her stop where she gets off
and finds herself in the recrimination market,

where temporary stalls of remembrance shout
discounted sweet deals with hidden sour spices.

She decides not to buy as her aim is off
centre and orders a meal of fear and anger

cold when it arrives she complains to
the wrong people who feed her to the animals.

2019 ©  Paul Brookes

In F Minor Key
Sounds of teargas shots are heard, a regular feature
come, it’s on again, everyone together, in unison
We are strong now’, she knew, many long years,
of bearing riots attacks and facing uniformed men

where are our boys and men, blinded  and tortured
missing or hiding in the surrounding hills, O Kashmir
Thy sacred freedom  is a sad song , tuneless chanting
it is now, a freedom chant in harmony , in F Minor key

we sing in closed doors , beating the tin trays, ‘we want
freedom’ we will win freedom one day, we sill sing free
Our lakes shine in the sun a sparkle of hope, they give
our kids smile , shiver , hunger , run hope to live on
Pellets may rain, in blind pain Kashmir you bleed still
how much blood will freedom need how many notes
In F Minor Key to complete the song of liberty
Hope till eternity  as many fight for rights, to be free
2019 © CER  Anjum Wasim Dar

Flames

the flames are like the stars
in a constellation: together
yet alone. They ignite a fire
in the heart, bake feelings
at 180 degrees. 45 minutes
do not satiate. A lifetime
wouldn’t do so either. The
most gifted swan cannot
discern between the milky
flame of friendship and
watery glow of unrequited
love. Times which we shared
looking at the sea near Marine
Drive and  places we went
to— Can you recollect the
restaurant Pizza By the Bay.
Our wit was sharp and our
our instincts were keen.
And now we sit in different
living rooms wondering
if we both would together
could create a constellation.

By Jay Gandhi