Sara Houmani

Edition XII

A Tea Party with My Uncle - by Sara Houmani (Photo by John-Mark Smith)Photo credit: John-Mark Smith

A Tea Party with My Uncle

By Sara Houmani

This upcoming poem is a checklist..
of metaphors and inside jokes
that stopped being funny the third time
I told my therapist I was moles….
Skip Intro

A tea party.
with my uncle.
And an uninvited guest.
And a slimy starving serpent hiss.
And an infant army vest.

In the beginning was the word
and the word was No
and the chapter was hell No
and the whole goddamn book
as he finished,
as he finished pinpointing the plot holes
of the story of my childhood
with his finger licking’ good
was still a fuck No

It doesn’t take two to tango
Fuck you.
One is more than enough to steal your spotlight
One minute
One minute you’re pouring him midnight from the teapot.
Next thing you know you ARE the Teapot
and he
is drinking alone
and he
is dancing alone
in your tutu,
your tutu that soon became your fatigue,
Fatigue literally means
a battledress

& ugh the biasness
a metaphor within a metaphor
a dream within a scheme
a green light within a red light
and a yellow light I didn’t bother to consider
as I fled the abyss
to the streets of no nation
still clutching
to the tablecloth
like a blanky that is 12 minutes late
to virtue
Elvis has left the building
This ship has sailed
The train has left the station
In Hell

& I’ve been running past this toy store
for the past 27 years now and
I’ve still not come to papa
The tablecloth had soon molted into an army tent
and I’ve been paying the rent
of my own asylum ever since

Don’t presume me dead just yet
Am the fucking revenant
So before you go about digging for extents
of honey
in black holes
You must know
You must know I am an orbit of 4 million suns
can keep your

Do not talk to strangers they said
but find yourself a fucking hideout instead
every time you hear your uncle’s coming
for tea
because see, in his caffeine intolerant mind
the “T”  Stands for “Thighs”.

Edition IX

Better Perspective - by Sara Houmani (Photo by Hakim El Haj)Photo credit: Hakim El Haj

Better Perspective

By Sara Houmani

Oh I’m knockin’
On a door
But it sure
As hell
Ain’t heaven’s.
I locked
Myself out
My house
This time
I’ll get a
Better perspective
Of the home
I’m building
With another
I hope,
I just hope
By the time
He finds the keys
I’d have
Snapped out
Of you
For good.

Edition VIII

Matchbox - by Sara Houmani (Photo by Hadis Safari)Photo credit: Hadis Safari


By Sara Houmani

I will not bring
A child
That barely
Fits in my belly
Into a claustrophobic
Matchbox of a world
Nor Will I invite
Into existence
Because I believe
Tiny feet
Walk further in life
Than I
Ever did in my
Lifetime altogether
I will not carry
A child
Just so my demons
Can be
With surprise
First words
& Baby steps
On carpets
When I’m not paying
Cause I have seen
What this world
Can do to you
When you’re little
So I will conceive
& Grandmothers
So help me God
I am not one
For interviews
& Childhood,
Childhood is a
Job vacancy
I did not apply for
& Still got

Edition VII

Marking My Territory - by Sara Houmani (Photo by Nina Sharabati)Photo credit: Nina Sharabati

Marking My Territory

By Sara Houmani

In the matters of
the heart,
The mind
has no say
over what stays
& what gets deleted
but damn will it
if the heart
comes anywhere
near them
Mark your territory
grow a vein
& tie it to the ends
of your jaw
Send your traumas
out to the frontiers
Shoot to kill
if you must.
Cause we are nothing
we are nothing
if we don’t
we are molded,
& timelined
with tribute
& we owe
our stories
at least
this much.

Edition V

Like a Hug - by Sara Houmani (Photo by Gaelle Marcel)Photo credit: Gaelle Marcel

Like a Hug

By Sara Houmani

“So why are you building A Campervan
She asked innocently
As we rode my
Delta Tricycle
On our way back home.
I smiled
As I kept my eyes
On the road
& Said: “For the End of the World.”
“I don’t understand”
She wondered.
“If all the Campervans
Ever built
Were placed end to end,
It would stretch
Around the world”
I explained.
She rested her cheekbone
On the back of my neck
& Suffocated my waist
With both of her hands,
“Like a Hug”, She murmured.
“Like a hug”, I rejoiced.
“Like a hug”

Edition IV

Magic Trick - by Sara Houmani (Photo by Rob Potter)Photo credit: Rob Potter

Magic Trick

By Sara Houmani

You challenge me
To Arouse you
With a 3 word story
In exchange of Magic
I whisper
‘You arouse Me’
Tell a Man
He Can
& He’s all yours
To Juggle with.

Edition III

Exorcism - by Sara Houmani (Photo by Ahmed El Tayyeb)Photo credit: Ahmed El Tayeb


By Sara Houmani

Them demons
Of mine
& Wear them for me
Like lace
As dark
As your intentions
For me tonight
You Sigh
in my direction
& Oh the heavy breaths & The sweating
Like a french flower
At Dawn
in Versailles
“Arrosée” et “Interdite”.
Say her name
Instead of mine & Watch me
Reincarnate as Satan
& Slowly take them good deeds
Like lace
As itchy
As your neck
Will be for scratching & Honey
I have a thing
for verticals
When it comes to drawing lines
And it just happens
That I don’t just draw


Edition II

PoemPhoto credit: Dina Al Bayed


By Sara Houmani

The Only Supremacy

I will abide by

Is your upper Rim

Atop my own

Biting its way into

My lower


This territory

Is under siege

In the look for


And all you get

is Moisture

Pin your banner hands

Deeper into this dust

& Squeeze

the Extremities

& Mother Earth

Might just

Grace you

With Some


Edition I

Waltz - by Sara Houmani (Photo by Mathew Wiebe)Photo credit: Mathew Wiebe


By Sara Houmani

You Put your words

In my Palm

Like Coins

In a Jukebox

As we

Waltz around

White Paper;

Who knew our

Dancing Pattern

Will be just as


Or are we

really Over?

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