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Samihah Sakkaf Poem
Red
Red - the colour of birth,
Of the crimson cloak
Shrouding the joyous mirth,
And of the fragile feet
Untouched by this sordid earth.
Red -The colour of romance,
Of ruby roses and paper hearts
Wherefore love is enhanced,
And of the coral cheeks that blush
Upon true love's first glance.
Red- the colour of grandiose,
Of Chanel clutches and Gucci shoes
Thronged in Madison avenue stores.
And of the smear on that luscious lips
For which a fortune it did cost.
Red – the colour of peace,
Of the scarlet sky at dusk
Ever so surreal and serene,
And of the autumn woods which entraps
Visitors into an enchanted dream.
Red – the colour of sorrow,
Of russet eyes that swell
With endless tears to follow.
And of sore hands that toiled throughout
Only for a hopeless tomorrow.
Red- the colour of pain
Of that claret mole, having numbered one's days,
Blotching the skin so frail
And of the spew coughed up
With agonising ever-lasting strain.
RED- the colour of death
Of blood splattered murky walls
Of a war-torn sect,
Of scars and horrors and tragedies
Deeply etched within the never forsaking wretched.
Red without which we would be dead.
Copyright © Samihah Sakkaf | Year Posted 2019
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Samihah Sakkaf Poem
THE UNRELENTING WRITER
Words spiralled from within her
Each thought teemed from her core,
Each line brimmed almost overflowed
Ready to be tilted and poured.
Was it the nostalgic scent around her?
Or gleeful giggles from afar?
Or the lush green leaves that cascaded
Out the large windows left ajar,
That triggered this verbose tremor?
She knew not.
She picked up her pen and paper
And set out to jot down each letter
That drizzled like water droplets
From the clouded pith of her heart.
But the pen. Oh her pen!
A humble tool of plastic
Used to unfurl a writer's world
Could not keep up to her pace
As the ink was drying up in haste.
The bulbous body of the pen
Pressed against her delicate fingers,
Caused her much discomfort
Yet, the writer continued, relentless.
The writer’s attempts to manoeuvre
And weed out each long thought
Is thwarted by this wayward pen
Which scarcely blots only balks.
The pen weak but stiff,
Trivial but tight,
A device that cannot stand alone
Stalls her with all its might.
Hinders her way forward
Tampers her every try
Each stroke she takes
Become lighter
As the ink dwindles
faster
She works her way
hither and tither
Even though the stains
Flicker,
And just when
the last drop of ink
cease,
And when all seem
lost
forever,
She
completes
her
masterpiece....
11/23/2019
Copyright © Samihah Sakkaf | Year Posted 2019
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Samihah Sakkaf Poem
I should have known
when the elderflowers failed to bloom,
Blind was I, dancing in Plato's Cave.
Then there came the day.
The cosmic disarray nor the wolves howls
Rang bells to me.
For had they,
Church bells I would have clanged
With my bare hands
And salvaged many a white Lily
From withering away.
But helpless was I....
Shell- shocked and deafened
by the screams of churchgoers,
Spectres of sordid morgues sprawled on our screens,
We clutched onto our heartstrings
lest they should tear away,
Silently praying it should not be...
Violently denying it could not be.
But helpless was I.....
Brood tucked to my bosom
Eyes shut from horrors unfolding
I witness a mother
Rummaging for the remains of her relatives
Thereby the heart disintegrates into shards of glass
No morsel of food would enter that throat
The mind entrapped by a darkened lair
Groping for answers
Distorted was I by the Datura flower
For helpless was I...
Minutes streaked, days sped and months flew by,
Determined was I to help that mother
But a mother she was not,
Nor a wife, nor a daughter
Not even a soul
But a body of clouds wandering in the skies.
I press an envelop of money into her cold hand
She declines, she resists
“take it away,” she insists
“For Christmas” I respond,
“Christmas will never be the same,” she whimpers,
“Sorry” I say,
“What For?” her voice trails off....
I turn away
For helpless was I.
Copyright © Samihah Sakkaf | Year Posted 2019
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Samihah Sakkaf Poem
Of all the gifts you have bestowed on me, my love,
it is your kisses that I value the most.
Passion enraged
Affection enhanced
A kiss can spell love's worth.
Propelled I am into a world of mirth
Each time your soft lips brush my nape.
Surreal it is,
Crushed is my coyness
Each time you linger long on my lips.
A sparkle of magic
Exudes from my heart
Each time you fondly peck on my cheek.
But of all ur kisses I have felt, my love
The most I cherish is your kiss of guilt.
That little dewy kiss you press against my forehead
Each time I am bitterly in bed
Soon after we've had a tiff.
Unbeknownst that I am feigning my sleep, but in fact,
Waiting to cherish that momentary bliss ....
21st December 2019
Copyright © Samihah Sakkaf | Year Posted 2019
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Samihah Sakkaf Poem
Sounds of screams
Rains of bullets,
Beat explosive percussions
For the demon of war.
Heads of men
At the hem of her skirt,
Sweep floors of blood
On the shambles of earth.
Peace’s wings clipped
And clutched to her hands
Has her eyes dancing
As fast as her feet.
Why must one stall her?
Peace never shall be free
Until we kill the demon
Lurking within us each.
Copyright © Samihah Sakkaf | Year Posted 2020
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Samihah Sakkaf Poem
She looked at me with wide eyes.
A sense of curiosity embraced her,
as her lips quivered to mouth her question
which I listened to unhindered.
"why is it that you cover your head?"
Ruth twinkled in her dewy eyes,
Her innocence evident in her voice.
She proceeds with courage seemingly gained upon
my nonchalant countenance.
"Is it because of the your menacing men
or your whispering women or your
rigorous religion?"
"No, none of them," I say
sounding like a worn out answering machine;
"it is because of me."
And I proceed to slowly sip my coffee
after the momentary break,
unfazed by the ever so widening eyes
gazing down at me.
Copyright © Samihah Sakkaf | Year Posted 2019
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Samihah Sakkaf Poem
Buried somewhere
beneath the abyss of locked horns
And bones to pick on,
Is a kindling of love,
which I wow to search for relentlessly.
Never shall I give up,
resolute I am to grasp,
for amidst that deep pit of shattered heartbreaks, it lies
covertly tucked away from conceited eyes.
And even if it takes to rip my eyes off, i shall
and on my knees shall I clamber
and grope for it as well,
for with its light
i would regain my sight;
profound is the power of love.
And when i snatch it
I would set it ablaze
and melt our heartaches and differences away.
With our love rekindled
I would mould out a new phase
in our lives where
we are meant to be soulmates...
and I promise to you that i shall never
leave ur side,
for amidst that sombre abyss
there lies your kindling
heart inside.....
Copyright © Samihah Sakkaf | Year Posted 2019
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