Woman by A’alaa Al Majnouni

Posted on November 27, 2012 by


She is only a woman; and

Her name was an idle being,

With a soul before the daybreak vulnerable.

With copper-hat covers out a mad psyche, betters off malleable.

A tuneful overflowing IV saline,

Tarnished with a bundle of blood bags,

And these blood bags bounce out musical,

A+ is a cheerless memory;

AB is distressing memoir, and enough for O’s, to

Nosh her puppet-body-like, to become movable.

As a leech in her ultimate suck-able power

She sucks off the distress,

She sucks out indifference.

And brutally, she breaks that longstanding mirror!

There was another woman, in dismal?


Another woman, another human,

Forsaken, hidden; extremely marginable,

She, was only, like her, a woman, and

Her name was a sharable idle being,

Another self is vulnerable.

Another self is Bendable.

And the reflection is now speechable,

She was always in love with her twain living,

Her queer love, was the love for her looking-eyes, the same mirror,

A contrasting reflection, sincere, warm, very affection-able

Her heart is the her blood bank, and

This is an agenda always thus plan-able

She is a shelter scarcely exposable

As numbing anaesthetic to memoirs; hardly killable

She calls out, a cry, and her echo cuddles back,

In silence dolefully hearable, “love me still, babe” she whispers as the shatter flies over, “love me, love us, find me again in your heaven” unbreakable”

A face observes before the vision

Blunted edges is scratching her finger-prints,

A bloody weapon, sharply cut-able!

Unstoppable sore hymning

Only a photge, distinctive being,

One heart, hardly bringable!

Posted in: Woman