When the World Falls to Silence


When all the clouds have dissipated,
and the rivers have dried;
When all the mountains have crumbled,
and all the tears have been cried;
When the thunder has quietened,
and all the storms have been raged;
When all the animals are gone,
and the wars have been waged;
When all the flowers have wilted,
and the hearts have turned hard;
When all the trees have been cut,
and the Earth is left scarred;
When all kin become enemies,
and all friendships are torn;
When all the nations have fallen,
and there’s none left to mourn.
When the skies become darkened,
and the Sun fails to light;
When the lands become barren,
and there’s no life in sight;
When the last child has smiled,
and there’s no one left free;
When the World falls to silence,
Only then we will see;

That this culture of hate,
from the moment of birth;
It’s the deadliest of plagues,
to this gift you call Earth.

In this moment of reflection,
and this silent reverie;
I ask that you listen;
O’ Child, listen to me.

I am your mother, your father,
your being;
I am the template of life
you’ve been seeing.

I am the land that has
kept you sustained;
In your existence
I am deeply ingrained.

I am the breath,
that has lifted your lungs;
I am the song,
that nature has sung.

I am the sands
of your hourglass of fate;
So listen to me, now,
before it’s too late.

I am the soul of the Earth
that you know;
I am left wounded,
from the hate that you show.

There is still time,
to turns things around;
If you wish to survive,
on this one united ground.

Hasten, O’ Children,
with love, peace – just try;
We don’t have much time,
please don’t let me die.

I am the World…

Poem ©Naziyah Mahmood, 2016.
(Image source unknown)


An Interview on Metapunk

I’d like to say a huge thank you to Marcus Gilman for interviewing me for his Metapunk website! It was such a pleasure to talk to him (sorry I rambled on so much!) The interview can be found in the podcast near the bottom of the linked page!
(Warning: I rambled on for almost an hour, so it’s pretty long >< … Eeek! I talk wayyyy too fast *sigh* Glaswegians!)


Does anyone else find it hard to recognize their voice on a mic too!?


The Thirteenth Hour

magic mirror

Haunting chimes of a music box
echo loud through enchanted time.
I stand, curious, before a towering mirror,
which casts no reflection of mine.

My hand slips forth to feels its coolness,
yet I gasp at the magic I see.
Fingertips, gone, I slip straight through
a portal of magical uncertainty.

In I am pulled, heart pounding in fear,
and yet I still long to know
the destination of this rippling void,
and where my journey will go.

I teeter forward, catching my step,
as my eyes behold the sight
of endless forests, valleys and lakes,
a realm created from light.

Swept off my feet, on the tracks of the breeze,
I glide on the wings of a bird,
Tasting the crispness of crackles of air,
listening to voices unheard.

Kingdoms so vast, and creatures so strange,
litter every inch of these lands.
Pillows of clouds made of glistening crystals
rain diamond drops into my hands.

A linear rainbow now guides my journey,
an explosion of colours so strong.
I happily hop along each chord,
to create my ethereal song.

I begin my descent, as light as a feather,
as I take in this realms allure.
My lungs intake a breath, so deep,
a taste so delicious and pure.

One leg extended, superposing ripples,
I stand on a mirror-like lake.
My reflection, she’s curious, as we both observe,
the movements that the other will make.

The blow of a horn, and I suddenly fall,
back through the mystical door.
For a moment so brief, our hands had met,
before separating, forever, once more.

I stumble forward, back into my room,
as I wonder about where I had been.
Is this reality, or the next part of that journey?
As the clock now strikes ’13’.


©Naziyah Mahmood 2015.
(Image taken from mrgoglass.com. Unfortunately I can’t locate the original source, but if you find it, let me know!)

Distant Echo


One deep breath; a sigh of escape,
I am stirred awake from my nightly slumber.
My drifting soul in the realm of limbo,
returns, cascading, to its worldly vessel.

My eyelids shift from their fleeting dream,
and gently part to greet celestial illumination.
The painted scene, a different canvas,
from the images that last danced before me.

A comforting silence, loud on my senses,
is disturbed by a whisper – a voice with no sound.
A memory from the future, déjà vu yet to happen,
echoes around me like a blanket of warmth.

A riddle with no answer, slowly fading from my being,
leaves behind the last brushstrokes of its existence.
I smile, I awaken, with a distant longing,
we will meet again, in that memory yet to come.

… Believe.

©Naziyah Mahmood 2015.

(Image taken from koalalalala.deviantart.com)

Call of the Clyde

Port Glasgow

The mists that veil your towering mountains, envelope my mind;
a mother’s embrace.
The colours that paint on your canvas of valleys, nourish my spirit;
prisms of light.

The winds that carry your tales and melodies, caress my heart;
enchanting whispers.
The rivers that write of your boundless strengths, fortify my will;
a shield of hope.

I hear your call, your beckoning voice, each day when I am afar;
my dearest.
I feel your pull, your ethereal touch, beseeching for my return;
“come home”.

Within me you shall always remain as a beacon of love, a compass;
my freedom.
To you, I belong, like a leaf from your branches, a child of the Clyde;
your flower.

Oh land of the brave… I am a warrior… your thistle.

Image and Poem © Naziyah Mahmood, 2014

Submerged – tanka

Drowning yet rising
              deepest stages of my dreams
   capturing each breath
                awaken to reality
                               salted tears kissing my face



Poem © Naziyah Mahmood, 2014
(Image taken from the very creative work at louisdyerartist.wordpress.com)