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Average Joe

Note: This poem is dedicated to those who suffered during the recession.

Average Joe sat staring in nothingness
Hearing the age-old battle of despair and hope
Adamantly, he urged the self
“Seek within; seek without; within and without
…don’t cease, don’t desist.”
Alas! Disappointment drowned the self immeasurably
As his cell phone never rang and that email never arrived

Silently, Brownian motion prolonged
As the dust particles collided randomly
Young Joe collided too, silently, with others
You see, random collision was the norm
..had been the norm for several years
Gradually, Joe turned into a puppet
Silently floating from sector to sector

Heads up, Joe the soldier marched onward
Smiling at a simple memory of someone
Word of the Day: Harmonized Taxes
Fresh Joe’s dignity blew to thousand pieces
As the economy, an outrageous beast
Raped Joe mercilessly of his meager possessions

Lawless World
Hush! There is no law stating that this rape is a crime
A battered Joe shared thoughts with his confidante
Despairingly hoping for things to alter
As the two-faced clowns threw money at the economy
Nonchalantly, Joe drowned in music and cheap drinks
“Stay Busy. That’s the reality call, that’s the sanity pill”
But the black hole got wider and wider


Read the rest of the poem by purchasing my first book.

Pretty Butterfly

Note: I wrote this poem after meditating on a butterfly as it flew around me. I was standing at a bus station when this happened. As soon as I saw the butterfly, I started meditating on it while blocking every other thought in my brain. Then I ended up thinking of this poem. I wrote it afterwards. As the poem was being captured by my sweet neurons, a battle started inside my mind: either I am going to capture this beauty or I will not do so. I mean it was so pretty and it would become a really cute souvenir after being captured. But, somehow I could not bring myself to touch it lest it might get killed. As I entered the bus feeling like a defeated soldier, I realized that the butterfly can make a slave out of me—then you will probably see more poems on butterflies. Yeah! poets battle a lot by using their wits. It is far more interesting than real battles. 

Fluttering up and down
Merging with the flowers
Pretty butterfly

He gazed at her lovingly
Such magnificent colors
Such a wondrous aura

Wanting to see her every morn
He wished to capture
This beauty instantly

A thought surmised within
A reminder of her free flight
What a delight it must be

No captivity, no force

Oh such a beauty ‘twas
Truly, one and only


Copyright © by Arzoo Zaheer. All Rights Reserved.

The Rag Doll

Note: To the dolls of this world.

Why give it away?
On a silver platter
Setting it to be misused by some
Why not hide it in a treasure chest
and let it be merely an illusion
an illusion
an illusion
Send it to the depths of water
And when found, throw the pearl

Flee to safety!
To safety
To safety


Copyright © by Arzoo Zaheer. All Rights Reserved.

The Moment

Dedication: To my future husband.

Clear deep water stood still, very still
I hear no crickets, no toads, no birds, no wind
I hear no breath, no laughter, no echo
Sweet silence, I truly hear naught

Has the fabled wind stopped stirring?
Have the mystical clouds stopped floating?
Serenity echoed amid the universe, moon, and sun
Justly the world fell silent, in accord with One

As she held his hand and gazed in his eyes
God smilingly pressed pause from up in the skies


Copyright © by Arzoo Zaheer. All Rights Reserved.

Poo Pies etceteras

Note: I wrote this today, on Oct.13, 2013, after feeling very frustrated about any wars that are taking place and poverty. Please feel free to email this poem to any official who care about stopping wars or poverty. Keep smiling! 

We made poo pies from body waste
Stool cream from feces and dung
Excreta cupcakes from droppings
And buffalo chips from fertilizers 

I carry this news from the prison cells
Mayday, mayday, mayday!

Copyright © by Arzoo Zaheer. All Rights Reserved.