Poems by Husain Abdulhay 2018

HUSAIN ABDULHAY has poems published in AvocetCacti FurFib ReviewFoliate OakQuail Bell Magazine, and Ygdrasil. His haiku appears in Failed Haiku and Haiku Universe, likewise.


Wall of death

gourmand whirlwind grabs
a seed of flower all on his lonesome
and casts him in his arid funnel gullet
cornered secluded in barren necropolis
taut tout le monde at top
behold him twiddles and twirls around
incoming epicenter of funeral
almost narrowly bottomed out
being riveted to the ground
synchronizing and swirling down
tussling with salivary gravity
pulling his socks up to hold himself up
lest be swallowed and inhumed all at once
to proceed along with coterie of companions


high hills man climbs
to give sky a glance
roving eyes over distance
he lies awake at night
worrying about meteors
lest at him should catapult
sun sets gently on east
he no longer sees comets

by William Blake
I love the jocund dance
The softly breathing song
Vernal vennels
I love the lithe branch
Sparrows perch in fall
I love the bosky bank
Spring extends to throng
Flapping wings in the sun
I love the jocund dance
I love to hear schoolboys pant
Playing hopscotch in park
I love to hear them chant
Giving up their slingshots
Round sapling holding hands
The softly breathing song

Paean of praise

neighbor’s nightingale
springtide chant
could be heard
waltzing in the yard
caroling in aviary
unbounded attuned
Je ne sais quoi
fall, rise, pause tenor
ingeminating eftsoons
protean pari passu
medley of intemerate tunes
major minor semitones
easy sway of tongue
hors concours
mantic métier
eirenic diegesis
then hiatus
mellifluous mute
dulcet tinnitus
tant mieux
ad interim truce
to imbibe
taking sip
of swain’s lips
or inbreathe
from redivivus zephyr
ubiquitous in aeternum
who is Maestro di cappella

nightlong stasis
thither I drove
commotion was done
seeking sidereal
solemnly sitting
stilly at aether
taking sip of hearth
damask lipsticks
sunfast dyestuff
questing acquiescence
earned equilibrium
to scrape off rust
stay awake all night
or rouse early in the morn

deus ex machine
purblind at dawn
maimed above parapet
I groped for rain if any
disemboguing of welkin
marooned in puddles
last night by the wayside  
to slake my thirst
miry they all turned
bedraggled by wind
blowing dust along
from afar it loomed
a thing approaching
a cantaloupe melon
wind rolling onto me 

Kiss of life

I found a small sickle with a rubiginous blade
and a grip fitting like a glove for schoolboy as if conjured by a mage
trawling through contents of tool shed left from days of yore
one summer chez grandpa where I was wont to sojourn
in a chilly afternoon after retiring to thatch-clad village
joyous per diem knackered with plowing titivating tillage
geeing up loaded mule racing against the timeless millage
besotted with the tang of tandoori bread billowing from the home
I found a small sickle
to help my gladdened grandpa in plain as winter glared with the rage
with granny grilling with her eyes swept up to glossy oriflamme
and opalescent spring selflessly bestowing on meadow
thither trotted with tantivy-cum-benison of bumper forage
I found a small sickle

divide equally a bar
and put it on a fulcrum
verily in middle
then burden it with two coeval
weighting exactly equal
dégagé rises aloft
and effortful descends
for the cosmos apply the same
gravitated wins the game
nonchalant loses the earth


torn off petals
bestrewing sea sands
last farewell

New Year’s Eve Fish

betaking myself to my garret
ascending the knackered balustrade
inebriate I accost the glassy argent tank
ensconced in the quiet corner of the landing tread
once immured a russet fish in it
now devoid of its titian tenant
I remembered ever and anon I sidled her up
repairing to my penetralia ad infinitum
cautious lest she should be stirred up
whilst I stealthily suspired
I debouched it into a benignant brook
adjacent to our flavescent belvedere
once the scales fallen from my eyes at a night
since then per diem I pass it by perchance
and halt to trow if she is in fine fettle
if she survives refluent flows and finds vivers
to whom is she affianced
where will she plight her troth
if she beckons me to her fête champêtre
and I hearken to her prothalamion cantillate

Purple patch

two schoolboys went one day on
scrumping from an orchard of blackberry
one went inside and another outside waiting on the qui vive
some did collapse on the perspiring body of boy
making it purple as he was climbing up tree
clouds aloft cried for the sleeping gardener
glaring by flame of thunderbolts
making him flee with vacant hand
but he has recently decided to share it
and whenever he does it, it makes everyone spill over slight tears
and quid pro quo helps him regain strength


I’m your mother
Nothing I can read from your palm
You are to live on and on
No one is gonna make you empire
Some turn into be Gundy
Some choose to become Rihanna
Someone ends up in solitary gaol
You yourself be an umpire of your own
Driving zigzag in the fast lane
you yourself get your own license booked
Which land you fall on
First and first you are like a toy
You give all round you joy
What a bonanza for your daddy, your mum
You are gonna swing like pendulum
You are in pandemonium
You are like a ball on a turf of golf
To hit in the goal
You should roll round and round
Unless you are not kicked on
You are like a doll in a puppet show
Like a rose in blossom and some day perish all
Everyone has a role
Your conscious will give it a call

Peaceful silence

silence is a respite for others to read your mind
and for you not to betray inadvertently your heart
thence, to keep everything in balance
and not take up the gauntlet to bear grudge
much to the chagrin of all the parties involved
a moratorium to mull over what we presuppose
a catwalk’s raison d’être to catch by surprise
a prevention not to recuperate will-o’-the-wisp
or to go to any extra length to seek redemption
silence be upon you to keep up the spirit of camaraderie in palace