Torture©

I am a road at night, and
in silence I relive the
memories of the footsteps of the day.

I listen to the heaviness
of the soldiers’ boots,
of the way they hated and killed–

the country praised them
called them heroes–
God, in shame hastens to hide
Its memory under the green grass!

In the morning the sunshine greets
me with a smile. My eyes rain tears
and I continue to talk to my heart!©

ZSA_MD June 2017.

The orchids are blooming after months of hibernation.

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This one is a rare one. It only gets one bloom but stays alive for weeks at a time.

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I love the speckles on this one. As if someone threw blood all over the white petals. And finally, IMG_6586

I just love this one. The almost pink petals have an orange center. These orchids are among my favorites.

Hope the fathers among my readers had a great day today. Have a great week!

Z.

 

 

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Romantic Tuesday, Love, Devotion©

 

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My book of love reads you!
Your touch of yesterday
Breathes fire in my neurons.

I am your devotee, you stand before me
like my God, waiting for my
hands and head to touch your feet

my body, it wants to wrap itself
around the column of your height
devouring you, holding you

Telling you that you are mine,
my own untreatable addiction
my nectar of long gone youth.©

ZSA June `13th 2017.

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The Winning Love©

The four chambers of my heart
have spread their sails out
to the idle winds, and ask
that they be transported to
the nebulous island of ANYWHERE!

Men cry that they have loved
and they have lost.
I found my love at the edge
of a desert this late in life, and I say
I have loved, and I have won!

My life has found its music and songs-
the wind-laden chambers of my heart
filled with ethereal nectars, revel in
the beauty of EVERYWHERE– and my life,
oh so rich with the love it has won!

ZSA_MD
June 1st 2017.

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Symphony of Rain.©

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It has been raining in Quincy for so many days. The weather reminds me of the days in 1993 when the levy was breached and the town was flooded. This time, the rains come in spurts, heavy deluge that makes you stop and take a look at the world outside; and at other times, it is soft continuous pitter patter and the heart sings to the tune of these drops falling on the broad leaves of the trees, mixed with the rumble of soft thunder.

 

I shut the engine of my car on the way home,
roll up the windows and listen to the rhythm
and music of the rain on the roof of the car,
while my heart sang with the rain.

I close my eyes, and see me seventy years earlier
running out of the house, bare feet, hair flying
around my face, and with arms stretched
sticking my tongue out, so I could taste rain;

The drops of rain roll down along the windows
and the intense desire takes over— I want
to touch this rain; I want the hair to get drenched again.

I open the door and get out; the rain drops bathe my face;
they take my breath away.
I stand there, and realize that there are tears in my eyes.
I pretend to wipe the wind-shield, and see a squad car pull up behind

An officer gets out of his patrol car, all dressed up in rain gear,
“Is there a problem doctor? Do you need a ride home?”
I look at his rain clothes, and say, “No thank you! I had to get out of the car,

just so I could once again feel the rain, like I did when I was at home

Seven decades ago!!”©

Zakiah Sayeed.

 

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MY Heaven ©

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You gave a painting, of a hut in the forest
and you told me, we would live there.

Your fingers held the brush with ease
and you painted beauty on canvas

Pine trees all around the thatched roof,
cradling the small windblown lot.

You gave me the earth
so I could build a home out of that hut

A home that would wrap its arms around you
when you walked in that door, tired from you daily chores

I knew that my love, my smiles, and my passion
would make mincemeat of your tiredness,

And holding me to your heart, you would say
“I knew you were made for me, so we can live

in this weathered hut, which is my Paradise!

Zakiah Sayeed
May 2017.

 

 

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Xerox

Image result for images of loneliness

I know I cannot let you have me the way I am
I wish I could make a carbon copy and
trace myself, label it, and mail it to you…
with my name and my words—

 
but I also know that you cannot get the
loneliness that surrounds me
when you are so far from me
through this carbon copy

Or hear my words that sound like sighs
or touch the panels of my heart
where all I see, is ink black darkness

All because you are nowhere near me!©

ZSA_MD

2017 May.

 

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Mothers Day

I wish all the mothers who are my readers on WP and Xanga, a blessed and happy Mothers Day.

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Zakiah. 2017.

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