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Volume 3

Spring 2008


Written by
Arien Elerina

Arien Elerína is not a poet. She is just someone who really likes colours and shapes and textures and emotions. Which would lead you to suggest that perhaps she should have been a painter instead. However, she is absolutely rubbish at painting. Therefore, she prefers fooling around with the written word: whenever she has lovely pictures of crabs or moons or bereft vampires in her head, or wild emotions exploding like fireworks in her soul, she likes to describe these things by writing down the first words that occur to her. As you can imagine, it is most unfortunate when she is in a bad mood and the pictures in her head involve violent uses of kitchen appliances and the first word that comes to her is one you could never say in front of your mother. Thankfully, Arien is not too lazy to forego editing her work before you can read it. (Actually, she is. Which is why she'd just like to take this opportunity to say: "Many thanks to Osman Khalid Butt and Afia Aslam for their patient and insightful e-mentoring.")


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Of the Crab and the Waxing Moon


Hide me
Once the moon has waned,
My sole true friend
From the peacock sky,
As wild-eyed and
Insane as I,
Face as sorrow-stained.

Save me
Once the moon has set,
And daylight tells on me
To sun-bronzed strangers
Who hunt my cherry husk,
Rusty spears and prickling fingers
Hungry for my secret.

Touch me
Once the moon is gone,
And shines no longer
On crimson flesh,
Flesh long longing
To be seen and felt,
So unsightly in the dawn.

Calm me
Once the moon is fell,
When magic ceases and
Reality, in her darkest shroud, descends –
Cackling and stormy-haired –
Watching as my fear then sends
Me back into my shell.

Then ask me,
“Have you dreams to sell?”
And ask again
With each moon-swell.
Never will I tell.
No, I’ll never, never tell.



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