Remember

Shamsia Hassani - once_upon_a_time 2

Remember who you are
Remember where you’re going
Remember what you loved
Remember what made you happy
Remember your friends
Remember your fears
Remember how you got here
Remember to let go
Remember your lovers
Remember to love
Remember

Featured artwork: Once Upon A Time by Shamsia Hassani

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Cuban Joint

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The burrito looks inviting
It promises to be promiscuous
I dont have time for that
Me and the cheddar on your nachos
Are busy melting right now

Half a decade back
I met a girl at your mother’s place
In Kobilisy
A hint of her permeates this Cuban joint
In the grain of your voice
In the frail of your poise

You eat your nachos in a languid pace
Your strength is your kindness
Meanwhile in a spacetime bubble
A lion is awakened underneath my skin
He wants to claw at your waist
Gnaw at your breast

Cherry pies and pillow talks
A daydream foams on my beer
I dismantle you on the table
Play with your innards for a while
It’s still a dark dream
But the brighter part of it is lit up by you
Oh, I can live with that

Time settles on your nail glitter
I glide, I glide
I surf through your eyelashes
Florenc…Flora…Andel…
Right then, at an unguarded moment
My eyes betray my well kept secret
And you call my bluff

Well, fuck it,
Since when was a man able to hide his love?

Half a decade later
I’m still in love with that girl
I met at your mother’s place
In Kobilisy

 

 
Note: Florence, Flora, Andel and Kobilisy are different parts of Prague.
Featured artwork sourced from Pinterest

 

Nineteen

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Being nineteen is magick
She is a girl, she is a woman
A quiet contradiction…or is she?

Her contours run through the Kalahari
Her contours breathe, they writhe
A wisp of lust seeps from her kiss
She marinates her lover’s tongue
They squiggle, they writhe
Two eels coil in the warmth of a tropical ocean
Twisting…turning…mellow burning
Volcanoes erupt in her body
Wildfire rages her skin
A whirlwind, a metaphor
A quite rose on the screen door

Being nineteen is magick
A crude grin of mischief
A rude power of sorcery
At nineteen she is a girl
At nineteen she is a Goddess

Featured Artwork: Portrait Of A Young Girl (1933) by Tamara De Lempicka

The Night Tram

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He was dark and brooding
She was stolid and light
They sat in a quiet disquiet
As the night tram cut through
A snow covered Prague
Nothing mattered anymore
He didn’t say a word
And yet –
She knew.

Photograph curated from internet, unable to locate the copyright owner, no infringement intended.

 

Vagon

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Vagon
Our old nightclub
Remember, this is where it all started

Smoke
Hang around us with faceless folks
We dance like there is no tomorrow

Sway
Like seaweed in an underwater cave
I swirl around your delicate body

Rustle
Your silky locks
Let me dissolve in their warmth

Wait
Hold on to me
Before I crumble into pieces

Wrap
Your arms around me
Bury me in your fluffy heartbeats

Burn
And set me on fire
So I can shine briefly in your beauty

Imagine
A missing frame from Amelie
A kissing scene from Casablanca

Tonight
We are a movie
From your early morning dream

Note: Vagon (spelled with a V) is an actual nightclub in Prague.

Marine Drive

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We stand on the shores of Mumbai,
The evening wind plays with your blonde curls.
No, I have never seen a prettier face.

The lonely streetlights of Marine Drive
Witness your magic
As they melt on your ivory skin.

You are not a woman.
A Goddess, an Elvin queen maybe.
An immortal. But not human.

I shiver inside when you speak
With your timorous gaze;
And I can see an eternity through your eyelashes.

The bridge of your nose brings back
Memories of an unlived past —
When you were Amestris and I was Xerxes.

We walk the boulevard by the bay
In silence, in pretense.
Your cold rejections pierce my heart.

And as we cross the road
With hand in hand,
The ocean aches for our destiny.

For the ocean knows the truth:
We were meant to be the last of a lost tribe
With fire in our souls and centuries to rule.

But for you there is no we.
And for me,
It’s just you, me and a pool of sadness.

A Birthday Song

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Zulejka snuggles up in your warmth
He has found a nice spot for the night
His paws make scratchy sounds on the bed sheet

In the vaporous light of your laptop
You turn into a folklore —
A distant memory draped in blonde curls and cat fur

Tigers roam your mind
Turtles and bears speak your tongue
A cool breeze of a clean earth lives inside your heart

You lay wide-eyed
With the half-smile of a hopeless romantic
While Time stands still to get lost in you

Someday
On the shores of Vltava
I will join you to watch the swans in the sunset

But tonight, in this briefly magical moment
I’m the robin knocking at your windowsill
To whistle you a birthday song

PS: Tonight is the birthday of my muse and I thought of writing her a birthday poem.