First Draft
My First Book Is Finally Live For Free
Before saying anything else, I want to admit something honestly. I was not sure if this was the right time to share this or not, but I decided to take this step without thinking too much about timing or perfection. I actually have other pieces ready to post before this one. One of them is something we call in Urdu a shikayat—a complaint, a quiet expression of something held inside—and there are other thoughts I wanted to share too. So I do not fully know why I am choosing to share this now instead of those. Maybe it is just instinct, or maybe it is the feeling that some beginnings do not wait for the perfect moment. Either way, I hope this step turns out to be okay, and hopefully something good comes from it.
By Aarsh Malik6 months ago in Poets
July Americans
Note: The term “July Americans” came from the late Princess Diana Spencer. She used it to describe the American tourists in the United Kingdom during the summer. I thought it was an interesting title, and it refers to the idea of celebrating a holiday when you have not shown signs of your nationality for quite some time.
By Kendall Defoe 6 months ago in Poets
The Saint Below
The Saint BelowAbusing my joke—pulling darker than humor, again, in loops. A habit. Chosen. Not slipping—cutting. Let’s have a great boost— or crack the ceiling and call it sky. Not trading shoes. Not Suzy. Not Sandra. Nobody walks this floor but me. Even I hesitate. We crash corners, spit, glow lo— still up. Free verse. Key forms. Doors—forced. Hope— where walls forgot windows. Cosmos— wrong hole again. Fall > arrival. Rabbit? Home? Doc? Miss the question. Lust— still here. Same hunger. New address. Nine loaded— ozone sealed. No exit upward. Contained. Contained again. Elder. Raised early. Wisdom—heavy. Spent young. I’m creepy. Known before said. Maze—mine. Walls—answer back. You don’t get me. Keep it that way. Funny— until it fractures. Trigger. Traps. Cards. Joke dies fast. Joker— must laugh. Reflex. Hands— remember. Skin stores memory. Blue sweat. Swear— swallow it. Deformity— kept. Payback / paycheck. Same act— split value. Ace. Held. No steps. Only print. Marks— left deeper than intent. Doors— slam inward. Don’t look. Not in your flesh. Not yours to map. Cracks— no airbag. Mid-fall. Protection—dropped. Hashtag— dash > sentence. Symbol > speech. Pen signs. Piece given. Slam. Drift. Slither. Never clean. Same place— wrong light. Shades— collapse to chance. Out / in— no border. Black blood— circulates. A son— misses me. Born quiet. Still reaching. No skips. Everything counted. Depth— needs distance. Too close—collapse. I give back— bad. Return stains. Badges— worn. Displayed. Moon— spells slime. Records don’t lie. Sun— spelled back. Lineage marked. Angel— scarred. Flight— cut but present. Good / devil— watched. No side taken. Upward— no waiting. No ceremony below. Prayer— empty gesture. Hands still fold. We parted. Clean break. One of me— hunts. Tracks internal. Justice— kills itself. Silver handshake. Agreement dressed sharp. Face— silly. Mask slips. Language— compressed. Heat— makes form. Sinter. Infinite— in precision. Held tight. Desirable density. Call of destiny. Weight—wanted. Bottom—reversed. Summit. Desirable density. Call. Summit. Ritual. Again. Whole— consuming. No peace. Only intake. Consistency— hollowed. Shell stands. Inside moves. Sergeant— destroys first. Order through break. Cure— quiet. Barely heard. Dawn knight. Between— exact. Not balance— tension held. Presence— pressure. Felt before seen. Room shifts. Destruction— incoming. Sensed early. Light— enters bone. No surface. Muscle learns. Echo— Universe returns. Saint of Hades. Both held. No apology. Nemesis. Response. Not origin. Sisyphus. Stone— necklace. Weight— worn. Choice— claimed. Change it. Replace it. Same stone. New meaning. Loop— not imposed. Held. Owned. Chosen. Again. Again. Again. Until it fits. Until it shines. Until it answers back. The loop— mine. Choice.
By LUCCIAN LAYTH6 months ago in Poets
