BOUTHEINA BOUGHNIM


BOUTHEINA BOUGHNIM

Kumquat

She felt splintered as a fractioned ray.
Kept sinking as a far off, little boat, at bay…
The breeze kept the glimmer in her heart…
And her lungs billowed as they gulped
Air with desire…
She craved for kumquat.
She craved the kick,
They say vitamin c is good for the sick.
She craved for kumquat
To see his glowing face
With a ginger haze…







I

I am an eye filled to the brim,
A hot tear nestled between both eyelids…

I am a hushed wish,
A silent sigh lost in a puff of wind…

I am an over mined land,
The miner never found the stone pined for…

I am a ghost village;
I roam with my wild wills with no damage…

I am what I was never was meant to be,
Breeding a lost love, eating up me….







Stuck

She is stuck
As a rotten fruit
Refusing to drop─
A frantic mouse
Caught between a cat’s jaws─
A rusty key wedged
Into the door’s lockset─
A voice whispers:
“Shake the shackles off!”
But where to go.
She not decided yet…








The Sorrow Men

(Inspired by T.S Eliot’s “The Hollow Man”)


We are the sorrow men and women:
Time’s scarecrows
To frighten away those to come…

With an invisible anchor tied around
Our necks; gravity pulls us, drags us, entombs us…
We are shipwrecked sailors floundering in foamy mist―
Wearing thorny charms around their wrists.

We are extinguished stars:
Black holes clipped upon
The infinite blank board…
We dwell silent in grids
Glued to our posts, unwelcome hosts…

We are sparse chops of the endless Night,
Roaming around in shops: dead dots…








Corona

Summer never seemed so far;
Prayer’s become the lonelier’s pandemicity−
Before the spiralling pandemic,
Cases pullulate like necrophilous insects…
The swarming dead bodies,
Buried in haste,
Amassed,
Dearly repelled…
One thing I know,
A million octopus’ black ink
Besmear only provisionally
The endless ocean or sea…
Resilience shall suck the ink
And we shall dive into pristine waters again…


BOUTHEINA BOUGHNIM




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