Poems by Sheikha A.
Green Bench An expression doesn’t just come about. It is first inhaled, lingered at the nostrils, then transferred to the tongue where before being processed, the palate performs a founding ritual by, firstly,...
Read MorePosted by PrachyaReview | Apr 19, 2016 | Poetry |
Green Bench An expression doesn’t just come about. It is first inhaled, lingered at the nostrils, then transferred to the tongue where before being processed, the palate performs a founding ritual by, firstly,...
Read MorePosted by PrachyaReview | Apr 19, 2016 | Poetry |
A Private Performance Honoring the Vernal Equinox Sunshine gains strength, winter wanes, days grow longer. Palest green begins to gentle the stark horizon of sleeping branches. Dandelions brighten dormant grass. Ah,...
Read MorePosted by PrachyaReview | Apr 19, 2016 | Poetry |
Rubicon A world rots thus fades away and into this the new Rubicon is born upon distant shores of white sand beaches Shores once owned by God and then owned by Spanish Conquistadors. I opened my eyes and diamond...
Read MorePosted by PrachyaReview | Apr 19, 2016 | Poetry |
Landscape Paint me a storm that drifts away to the forgotten land Where pain doth stare; nor do memories evade, The brushstrokes or the colors In the corners, ridges of the midst of the canvas; Where it stays, unknown and...
Read MorePosted by PrachyaReview | Apr 19, 2016 | Poetry |
SONG OF A FRESH YEAR I rise at dawn today with a song in my throat. Early winds of breaking day chatter me a chorus. I wake today with a song in my throat, this creaking bed of mine beats the drum. Let him who thinks yams grow...
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