Temple
my body is not your canvas,
it is Mine, it is not yours to leave muddy handprints behind. staining my once white pristine canvas, it is Mine to worship, Not yours to taint, my body is my Temple, not your Playground, leaving your prints behind, dirt I cannot Wash off, yet you walk away, with your dirty hands off to smear another, Damaging their canvas as you have mine, here comes another one, his hands just as dirty as yours, and they Come and they Go, yet it is I they point at, calling out the Filth on myself, ones that You left, somehow it happened because of me, Unconscious, Intoxicated, Asleep, none are free passes for you to leave your mark, to you, my body is nothing but a Stop, for short-lived pleasure, until you find another cub sleeping soundless, safe, you see yourself a Martyr, Innocent, Unaware, Sorry, all the temples you have Vandalized, Destroyed, Disrespected. you never change, they never change. stay away from our temples, we need not your “Worship” Shafiqah Amira The author is an avid enthusiast of literary fiction and non-fiction. She writes in her free time both leisurely and as a freelancer. While pursuing a degree in law, she also hopes to one day be able to work in the creative industry with like-minded individuals bringing art into the world of social awareness and human rights. |
Cappuccino
Waves come by,
From the shady beginning they originated, Not so obvious yet they exist, Like the strong taste of my cappuccino, Swirling its darkness, In the round cup of life, Where everything starts, And everything ends, The bitter taste of reality, That hits you right in your face, Then you lose yourself, Like when the caffeine finally kicks in, Just in time for submission, Thus must I write, My sincere thanks and appreciation, To god's greatest creation. HSufi The author is a budding poet who is an aesthete and curious about this world. She wrote the poem as a little tribute and appreciation to the coffee that keeps uplifting her mood and productivity. A toast to all the coffee lovers! |