Ghazal: My Heart and other poems-Faiza Anam

Do not open for visits, let it stay hushed like my heart!

The mausoleum of your memory – crushed – my heart!

Look! How the trees submitted to the calls of the wind!

My portion of grief and regret is yet shushed to my heart!

How I discovered a geography to map stories we never lived.

“My face was the last metaphor in his eyes”, gushed my heart!

In search of epiphanies, I light clay lamps in the charcoal nights

Unable to reach your hands, my tears falling on tar, rushed my heart!

With every rain, my eyes change colors like the sky

Purple purple is the angst, and red blushed my heart!

Moist – the desire of reunion blooms out of my skin pores

This spring is sterile – no leaves, no love – and bushed my heart!



The trailing tail of my gown

wiping behind

in a wrapped rhythm

dust discoes no more

on the tracks

you have disowned

and I am sprinkling them with oblivion

not with the rain of my ruination

the dust settles for a while

on seeing my curls composing 

a wind wails, and summons a whole hell

of shards and snicks of glass

that you exploded once and I was being dragged through remains

my eyes seeping through glued lashes

my lips licking on coarse cuts 

my gown is not mine

it’s yours, it concealed you.


About the author:Faiza Anum has poems forthcoming or published in Essential Voices: A COVID-19 Anthology (West Virginia University Press), The Pinch Journal, Transnational Literature, Illumen (Alban Lake Publications, USA), Stoneboat Literary Journal, The Stonecoast Review, Antinarrative Poetry Journal, The Ghazal Page, Eastern Structures and elsewhere. Her poem “Travelling Tales” was a finalist for Open Road Review Poetry Prize 2015. She works as a lecturer of English at Lahore College for Women University, Lahore. She received her MPhil in English Literature from Department of English, University of the Punjab, Lahore
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