by Sheikha A. 

Her eyes are ponds rippling the moon;
snip in the air turning fade
and the confusion of a quarrel
with the deceased relative’s visit
in mother’s dream is grimier
than the clarity of murky water  
she saw centered in a ruinous court-
yard. It must have been the moon
had browned in the hide of a bear –
the tones of honey-hue yet majestic dusky;
she wasn’t able to tell one from the other
while we waited as a weightless voice
like in chants of allegiance, when a grave
is ordered to convert into a fruit-
bearing field. Mother’s mind is  
listening to winds; how fast metres
race when arrival collides with departure.
Of late, this is how it’s been. She gets
on her feet with a scrubber and can’t
decide what corner needs most
cleaning attention. Fabrics of chiffon
are the different ways she folds  
in decisiveness. We see her looking
outwards, towards the common  
man taking the bus to work, she  
sees his feet are steady even if his
heart has lost accountability of
the number of breaths he draws  
out of his veins, just to watch the day
successfully end without incident.
There is envy in that sort of timeliness;
predictability doesn’t have to be
a god, or human invention. And
we have seen many springs take
the stairs of summer to alter  
flashing lights into a comfortable
breach-birthed darkness. We are
here hanging like the first sign,
the kind that we miss because  
of speed, also cannot reverse to.
Mother knows from the circling
birds overhead, neon rains
are about to wet flamboyant  
paints of vitality.



Sheikha A. is from Pakistan and United Arab Emirates. Her works appear in a variety of literary venues, both print and online, including several anthologies by different presses. Recent publications are Strange Horizons, Pedestal Magazine, Atlantean Publishing, Alban Lake Publishing, and elsewhere. Her poetry has been translated into Spanish, Greek, Arabic, and Persian. She has also appeared in Epiphanies and Late Realizations of Love anthology that has been nominated for a Pulitzer. More about her can be found here
THE PAST by Eberenna Utobo

THE PAST by Eberenna Utobo


by Eberenna Utobo


…if your ears would close,

and your thoughts listened…

…for that which lies behind

…still lies as beautiful


…oh, the thoughts of the thirteen

…blossoming with fruits at thirty

….of the perfection to build from thirteen

…and it would ripe at thirty.


…in your tender palms,

…you could grasp the sun

…your slender feet on ground

…you could walk with the gods.


…Heroes of the future

…where the voices in your head

…you believed in the future

…for you made YOU the head.


…your hands were your lovers

…they fabricated your desires

…your dreams excitedly hovers

…you are on top as you desire


…so little results, your tender efforts

…yet so potential, so big

…for your mind is that of a maker

…then, in time, the world you’ll bless.




…you looked up at Him

…with great hope and resolve.

…you had no doubt in Him

…your plans has His markings involved.


…the pits and potholes of life

…a thing of fiction to you.

…keenly, your mind designs life.

…the life appealing to you.


…then, then, you were twenty-one

…the gap and weed came.

…then, then you lose ’em one by one

…the model you once became.


…your eyes see a little ahead

…yet so dark so fruitless.

…you drift, waiting to be led

…yet no hand came, so hopeless.


…chaos, disapointed, lost

…morning, afternoon, night.

…that light only a glow in thought

…rarely, rarely in the night.


…hey, child, you left something behind.

…for far ahead you would need him.

….hey, son, you left YOU behind.

…for far ahead would love him.





…listen to your tender past

…you created you in the past.

…you employed your mind in the past

…your future you’d build with the past.


…the pits and potholes of life

…a thing of fiction to you.

…keenly, your mind designs life.

…the life appealing to you.


Graduated from the department of Electrical and Electronic Engineering FUTO, Utobo Eberenna T., nicknamed Cowboy, developed an unusual flair for writing. The writer is an ardent lover of Electrical and Electronic world, and yet has a powerful imagination that he loves to put down in writing.

His articles have been published in magazines and he was the Editor in Chief for the Peacock 2nd edition; a magazine of the Electrical and Electronic Department, FUTO. Having written a good number of short stories and very few poems, this is the first of his write up that is published in a professional website.

He is a thinker, a doer and loves to read. For him, writing is a thing of the soul. It is a way of letting the soul speak through the pen, listening to the inner mind and letting it pour out its mysteries through the ink. He believes in the divinity of the human soul and its infinite intelligence. He can draw inspiration from everything around him and is a person that has the ability to see beyond what the eyes is gazing upon.

He is a social person, funny and wonderful person to have a deep and open conversation with.

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