Tuesday, October 23, 2007


Every second edict
in the leaves of my
how to write bible
teaches me to avoid clichés
as if, to use a cliché, they're plagues
but each time she flings "love"
at the end of her sweet nothings
or nobody's forward mails,
the world in my vision blurs
shrinking around the edges
of l-o-v-e's four letters.

© October 23, 2007 Dan Husain

Tuesday, October 02, 2007


Such is the fate
of each and every word
that refuses tonight
to come out of my head;
(as if my arms slithered up my nostrils
and pulped them to death)
laid to rest in a watery grave
stretching from your eyes to your ears.

And then we slept in deathly silence
half loved, half betrayed.

© October 2, 2007 Dan Husain