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Fraying the Edges
Watch The Poem Falls
All rules dismissed
in the midst of somewhere (or nowhere)
flavors of blue taste like yesterday
where whispers cling to dew on grass
a fox — no, a song — slips through the cracks of dawn
sky folds under the weight of a sun
setting into the sea, or is it rising from the earth’s core
a canvas splashed with reckless strokes
(they said it was a dream but dreams are too lucid here)
silent cacophony, a parade of mismatched footsteps
clouds wearing the ocean’s scent
crisp like autumn, though trees are budding backward
and flowers bloom in shades of forgotten whispers
time pauses here — a hiccup in the universe’s breath
where seconds melt like wax
across the cold face of an unused clock
tick, tock, (stop)
is the mountain just an echo of the moon’s unspoken thoughts
maybe shadows speak louder than light
but no one pauses to listen
to the stars dripping onto sidewalks, pooling into stories
in the corner of the eye, a flash —
a kaleidoscope of unmade beds
and mornings that smell of thyme and thunder
did you see it, (did you feel it)
sugar in the saltshaker, raining upward
gravity unlearned its laws last night
while we slept on ceilings, watching floors
dance away from our bare, hovering feet
each word an image, each silence a verse
barely begun — never finished
a conversation between the lines
(hear it breathe)
where sense overlaps with nonsense
paint the sky with the sea, and call it home
watch the horizon blur where water meets flame
all rules dismissed, where thoughts unravel
and the poem falls, gently, like a leaf
in the midst of somewhere (or nowhere at all)
The poem is the first part of a series titled ‘Fraying the Edges,’ a collection in which I aim to explore how dismantling traditional poetic form and structure can mirror the fragmented, surreal landscapes of our subconscious minds.
— © Misbah Sheikhh 2024
