A Woman Defined

Art & Culture by Mahvash Mossaed

Poetry: old, very old, the poets, & Still Hungry

November 23, 2009

Here are two poems from my book, My Painted Dreams.

old, very old
When I am old, very old,
My body will be like a torn old cover—
Thin, so thin that you can see my soul
Through its shredded pieces.

*******

the poets
The poets stand in the rain.
They wear no raincoats.
They have no umbrellas.
They are discussing the shadow of a shadow of a shadow.

But their poetry is already soaking wet—
They have not developed their reality muscles
So they walk with a limp while admiring the color of a vein in a leaf.

*******

The poem below is from my book, A Woman Defined.

Still Hungry
When you were not here I missed you and I was hungry.
I am ashamed to admit I ate your shoes and socks.
And I ate your T-shirt, and not only that!
I swallowed your watch on the end table by the bed too!
All that and still I was hungry.
So, with my stomach grumbling,
I sat by the phone silently, hoping for you to call.

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Posted in Mahvash Mossaed, Poetry |

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