Farid wore a beret, woven with blue and pink hydrangeas….

He trailed his path with a floral scent to disguise that his ways were dangerous.

Attired in tastes creamy, bubbly and flavourous….

A few months shy of 16- I knew nothing of men who were venomous.



My heart skipped ropes upon receiving a rose between the fold of a letter….

Tied my heart on a string and hung it on a vine alongside the river.

I returned a bouquet of violets and tulips assembled together…..

And onwards from that day- I drew his name with ‘forever’.



Untouched and still of innocence under the buckle of my belt,

Love exchanged in words was the only touch I had ever felt.

Perhaps I lost clarity of sense because of the pollen I smelt….

He took my sanctuary and oath of purity- which the florist forced to melt.



Nobody believed me, when I said the florist raped me,

I begged the judge: “hear me… hear me,

Do not be fooled by the colors in the garden you see-

It is he who committed sin in the first degree”.

But the judge called me a liar- said he bought roses from Faridi quite frequently,

That the florist couldn’t hurt a fly- that I wanted to steal a poor man’s glee.

And so the town hissed at me while the wolf walked free.



What he took from me I could never sew or heal,

But it was my good name that day which he would also steal.

Years came and went and the truth was yet to be revealed,

Drenched in rage I made the bitch ass squeal.



I stuffed petals into his mouth and put a mute to his scream,

Turned this six year nightmare into a long awaited dream.

I blended thorns, bleach and azaelias into a poison.

“Your honour where I fought with the law and the law lost-

You’ll find sufficient evidence in this floral potion”



©Sabrina Najib








A man who knows his meats is one who can make a meal of a broad- so to speak

Knowing the difference between a rump and a brisket- takes more than just technique.

Men who ate steak….often preferred the fuller and chunkier physique,

And Barati was no different- the spark we made was beyond electric.


I knew I wanted no relation of the fainting heart with the butcher,

What I wanted to make was a steam that would form clouds off of the cooker

All I wanted was to make a beast with two heads without emotional pressures,

But desire came to collect after his one- time feast with a hooker.


Turns out Barati had a fairly large appetite,

One that formed pools of sweat- a different kind of heat that kept him up at night.

Now I know he gave me the disease- a secret he never brought to light.

He carried a curse from never wearing an armor on his duties as a knight.


My blood carries three letter tags from the sin we made on these sheets.

Not once, not once could I have known this man would make sickness taste so sweet…..

And when I said I’d make a mess of him  right across his shop at 86th street,

He laughed and told me: “we’re all dying sugar, take a fucking seat”


They all say- this is the diary of a mad black woman and I’m in the early stages,

I say I ought to be mad for the tears I bled on these damn pages.

Well I couldn’t let the receipts of his lust kill him before I got the chance,

So I grabbed his favourite knife, and took him out for a dance.


I Kung fud his ass and kamikazed his junk

Sliced his manhood into pieces and dumped his remains in the trunk

Verdict as charged- “life sentence for the lass who wears a three letter sign”

Between the chase and the climax- the lives I had…… I burnt all nine.


©Sabrina Najib


CASE no1.




I met Salum – the merchant sailor, when I sold oysters at the bay

He went out to sea and brought me a pearl every other Thursday.

He came to me with his stories of lands far away,

And with his charm and wit- I was floating on heaven’s stairway.


Once he brought me a piece of the ocean and put a shell to my ear,

….said: ‘that’s how deep my love is- that’s magic you hear’……

He put his hand on my heart and said: “home for me now- is here”.

And in that moment- chills multiplied from my toes to my hair.


So every Wednesday of every fortnight- before the boats came to deck,

I wore my satin dress and sprayed perfume from my cheeks to my neck

For his eyes only, I spent my last paycheck….

And in my naiveté I let my heart be his ship to wreck.


I learnt one day that he had a woman at every port,

That falling in love for him was not a revelation but a sport.

When it came to Seduction – Salum was master of the art….

My soul then blackened and I made him pay for breaking my heart.


For I made the wind blow his sails to my shore….

I commanded the waves to rock him steady to my door….

I’m the fool who gave him an aphrodisiac for a fossil from the ocean floor…….

Had me spend my earn just so he could be the one I cried for.

All this praying I wasted on a whore?

Well now Salum doesn’t breathe any more,

Salum is now a corpse offshore….


I drowned the bustard, made him drink the salt he rubbed on my scars,

Took his life in the very ocean that carried him from Pemba to Madagascar.

Soaked him to die like kerosene on a cigar…..

And when I light this match….. I’ll sleep well even if it’s behind bars.

Sleepwalking to find you

There’s so much more I need to say to you,

A lot more love I should have shown you.

Now I’m floating through a vacuum dreaming of you.

Cemented to the ground wishing I could run to you.

Not really living I wish I could be a ghost with you,

Find you in another realm and just hold you.


Sleepwalking at the scene of the crash,

Wishing I could make you whole again from what remains in the ash.

Gone from me,

It can never again be,

Just you and me,

Each time I sleep, I wish to save you, just one time, from the crash.


Night brings me closer to you,

When I close my eyes and wish I could touch you.

I pray somehow that you know how much I still love you,

And in my slumber I’d sleep forever if I could just hear from you.

In my zombie state I wonder if I am one with you,

I can’t shake the wondering of how I could’ve made it different for you.

Now I shadow my former self, fractioned by the remains of you.


Sleepwalking at the scene of the crash,

In a lifetime ponder of how my light was dimmed in a flash.

Now I’m trying to move on,

But I can’t accept that you’re gone,

I still wish you would pick up your phone,

I’d tell you to stay home and reverse the events which led to the crash.


©Sabrina Najib




Hymn for 25

Roads have led to crossroads which led to other crossroads-

Today I travel lighter for I have reduced my load.

Ode to the pilgrimage which found the destination to now.

 …..and so I am well


Praise to the fall which crashed and rebuilt to now.

Grounds have shifted and put homes out of place,

Today I don’t wear fear or my heart on my face.

I give Praise to the fall which crashed and rebuilt to now.

…….I am well, I am well


Words cut deep and made for defensive reliance,

Today I bear less guilt for I value the safety of silence.

I plead sorry to the wronged for the hurt made yesterday.

…….I am well, I am well, I am very well


Old familiar faces have become strangers in passing,

Today I am rich with the ones who stayed without me asking.

Farewell to the loss which ploughed new harvest today.

I am well, I am well I am well with what was

I am well I am well I am well with what is.



Oath to Preserve


Oath to preserve

Here I proclaim my oath to preserve.

And to my body- I make a promise to uphold.

For my being- I build a wall to protect….

And my heart to never be for passengers to collect.



I have become a state of constant wanting.

I shed my veil to reveal for somatic exploring…

I gave in to body and lost my way of thinking.

I gave away my reign for peer similarity,

I bartered my guard for a common currency….

Now it trades at a price based on spending frequency.



Today, I declare my oath to preserve…..

I gave away a vase made of song,

For a cup coated with fool’s gold.

My brick broken- now I am one with the old.

I grew my fruit- fresh and ripe it stayed,

But like snake to eve, to lust, my precious I gave away.

Smoke floats to mourn a red flower no longer in bloom,

As the wind changed way and took the child from its room.

In regret I know- my innocence was not yet due,

Broke my first oath- I became early a woman for you.



So here is my new oath to make,

That what is precious shall not be easy for anyone to take.

And to my mind- I vow to explore,

To my body it shall preserve for the man who shall give more.

©Sabrina Najib



Machiavellian, Machiavellian…..

Guest in my home who wears a halo above your crown,

Will your heaven be sweeter if you draw horns above mine?

Fool all men by the charm you wear in your angelic gown,

You could never change three sixes to look like a nine.


Machiavellian, Machiavellian…..

Portrayer of sainthood and moral righteousness,

Many you have fooled by the venomous traits of your ways.

Though you have shed your old skin to cower beneath our kindness,

Your hiss echoes with the choir you once betrayed.


Machiavellian, Machiavellian…..

Sweet Siren with a  honey coated sound,

Many ships you have destroyed in the name of vanity.

To the senses you are a sight, smell and sound that is profound,

To the wise- they are in the know of such foul fallacy.


  Machiavellian, Machiavellian……

Foe attired in my brother’s coat of arms posing a united front,

Pledging in song and prayer-a promise to our brotherhood.

Were we not blind, we would know it is us you hunt,

We feed the creature blissfully oblivious that we are to it food.

©Sabrina Najib