Marwa Rakha Poems
|3.||The Toilet Seat||4/8/2008|
|6.||The Pair Of Boots||1/7/2009|
|9.||Dear Man.. You Are Not The Best||10/29/2009|
|11.||Dear Man... Dear Dorian Gray||10/29/2009|
|12.||Dear Man: I Want To Have Your Baby||10/29/2009|
|13.||The Little Man||1/7/2009|
|17.||The Magic Mirror||10/9/2007|
|18.||You Are Mine||7/11/2008|
|19.||The Washing Machine||7/27/2008|
Comments about Marwa Rakha
The Washing Machine
A washing machine I am;
come touch my buttons
and see me spinning.
Shirts, pants, undies, and more;
get that sock off the floor;
you are all but one when the night befalls.
Big or small;
size doesn't matter;
it always has a stain.
Colored or plain;
they always complain
about the suds or the care.
Watch my door open
only to close again;
let me wash away your pain.
Who cares who's inside;
I will be empty again.
Are you leaving while I am spinning?
I am the washing machine.
I am full! I am loaded!
In the dim light of the room I caught your eyes
wandering in my face;
feeling the fine lines that are bound to sink deeper.
Yes I will have wrinkles.
I am not growing any younger.
Under the faint light our silent still eyes met,
you saw four or five white hairs that sprung on top of my crown.
Why were you surprised?