Sometimes I am naked
and look at myself.
My tan skin looks less brown than it looks grey
like ashes;
Perhaps it's grey like the burned cultures,
the damages traditions
and bombarded destinies.

When I put my dark hand
onto someone's fair skin
I see the ashes
and I'm reminded of histories we'll never get to cherish.

you write
poetry on the
wind
and expect me
to read

You wore the scent of betrayal
The more I sniffed it, the closer I was drawn towards you
I had never denied being in love, but for the first time, I was in denial
After a few weeks, days or even years, when the scent will fade, you will too, I somewhere knew

I used to read your poems
but lately you don't write
you're silent and aloof
you know that isn't right.
You can't close a door once opened
you can't abolish all your dreams
you're a poet of the heart
mustn't fall apart at the seams.
Say what you can in words
they speak the message true
spoken from the heart
the poems will see you through.
A hermit's not your style
a recluse, you are not
never give up writing
of things that you've been taught.
I used to read your poems
I'd read them once again
if you would send them out
(this one's from a poet friend)

I emptied out the lot of my emotions
And you stood there standing
No one's ever done that

The vacancies of my mind
Filled with demons
None of them scared you away

I told myself to run if I wanted to survive
You grabbed the bouquet instead from somewhere on the side
No one's ever done that

We talked about a future I was never planning for
I wondered how such beauty in this world survives
Stars in the sky remind me of you

A blanket of comfort envelopes me
You tell me it's only love
No one's ever done that

Darkness faded
Rain halted
Flowers bloomed
Eureka!

I thank You Allah
I praised to you Allah
I am bowing down to you Allah
For this light to my fore
And the Iman in my heart
And the trust on my tongue
And the health to my life
And the chance to witness
This beautiful time of beneficent
And mercy to the mankind...
And the month of nine
It's a Ramadan, The Great

Ramadan Yajma'ana
Ramadan Kareem
🌙

Sitting in the dark
Wanting back what was stolen
Holding his heart tight

I traced the texture of your words
Like my heart was blind
And your voice was braille

The birds sing the doves fly the penguins wobble is that a bubble
are you in trouble

i spend my days
pouring myself into the cups of others

only to find that
when it’s time for myself
to take a sip

all that’s left
in my cup
is the remainder of a girl
who gave too much

when I die
do not burn me
or bury me inside the ground
instead cover me in ink
and surround me with papers

- a poet never dies

My entire life,
I have been waiting.
For years,
Almost two decades now
I have been waiting.
Waiting,
For the better parts.
Waiting,
For the “soon”.
Waiting,
For my life to begin.
Because,
I don’t feel like I have lived.
In the nearly twenty years
I have been alive
And breathing
I do not feel
In any of those years
That I have been alive.
I don’t feel like a single breath
That I have taken
Has been real.
I feel as if
All these years
I’ve been stuck
Behind a window
Watching as my life unfolds
Before me.
I feel that
I have had
Zero control.
That I am in the backseat
Letting someone else drive.
That someone else,
Is writing on the pages
Of MY life.
But no more.
I will break that window,
I will take that wheel,
And I will write
My own pages.
My life has begun,
And now -
I’m in control.

The way I feel isn't real
It's taking away my happiness,
My wellbeing.
I feel empty and obscure
No matter what I do I can't feel like you
I don't wake up happy and content
I don't feel like I want to do things all-day
All I want to do is sleep and forget
All the mistakes I've made
All the lovers I regret
I want to be thankful, I do
But I'm overwhelmed by sorrow and despair
I still haven't found what helps
I try and try but nothing makes sense
Someone said it was karma but I don't feel that way
I can only remember this life, but sometimes wish to forget

The roses have wilted, The violets are dead. The demons run circles, Round and round in my head. The parents are crying, Their kids keep on dying.
Because that's what modern society bred, And nothing was said.

She was a thrifted sweater and denim and jersey knit sheets
Pizza breath and red wine and toothpaste
Alabaster skin and knotted hair and freckled shoulders
A tangible dream and my favorite good morning
She agreed to let me kiss her and I agreed to let her slip my shirt over my head before she became
Blood and tears
"I trusted you" and "I’m sorry"
Midnight poems and a drunk "I need you"
I’m afraid I loved you like the way I wrote

She said "I'm falling in love."

I said "I'm falling apart."

I'm sinking farther into the sea
Air cut off, unable to breathe

But it's not all too bad
The water's warm
and the fish look nice

It's a shame I can only see this
By myself
at the end.

for each seed growing in a strong tree,
half a million other seeds will bite the dust,
except that
to taste the dust they must believe in the power of usefulness,

- unable to think that they will never germinate
they let themselves be carried away by exotic dreams:
dreaming of being nibbled by sparrows,
washed by rain, smelled of sprinting squirrels,
beaten by hot-cold winds, swaying in foamy waves,
touched by a second chance,
than rotten in the mud under a tree, (be it and strong)

- in other words
who cares about a vigorous tree,
when you are a survival  arch/canopy,
arched up to the white canvases.

full dinner and wine
tasty healthy and filling
reflect on the day

the night was quiet
until a siren's loud blast
someone has problems

a pale white full moon
you feel it in your quiet
it rouses ideas

smooth out the bedding
hmm the pillows are perfect
now it's good night time

There are approximately 470,000 words in the English language

4 syllables in “Hey, How are you?”

9 letters in “Beautiful”

3 words in “I love you”

And still

I can’t find a single thing to say

When your smile accidentally makes my day.

When I was little,
I was taught that love was sacred.
When you say it,
you mean it.
I said I love you,
and now I'm stuck.
Because you don't love me anymore.

A club or a gun
are still the weapons used by
primitive cultures

                       Kelly McManus

Waking up in the mornng,
the sun has dimmed its light,
Its a day of mourning,
The moon wont shine tonight,
Everyday your smiling,
someone lost their life,
This world is such a small one,
But feels like were barred in tight.

You.
Are.
A.
Walking.
Masterpiece.

Check message
Facebook
Check message
Instagram
Check message
Send message
Wait
Check
Look;

When did relationships
Get defined
By a read receipt?
Will we
Now
Only measure intimacy
By a tweet?

What do we have left,
Why can’t we
Go back
To laughter
In a diner seat

your name is
forbidden in
my mouth
or in my heart
because when
i think about
you;

i'll cry a little more,
hurt a little stronger
love a little softer
because you no longer
make me feel sober

i'm drunk on the
memory of you

If you could read my mind,
You’d see a thousand papers
Filled with broken poetries
And deadbeat proses
Full of woeful verses
With mournful pieces
Of unfinished stories
That are yet to be written
And failed to be spoken;
If you could read my mind,
You’d hear horrible screams
And earsplitting weeps
From shattered dreams,
Kept in a nasty notepad,
Scribbled on a bed
Of bloodstained words,
Ringing in my head.
If you could read my mind,
You’d see the shadows
That lurk within me;
You’d hear the bellows,
Screeching the words
“I’m tired,”
“I’m a failure,”
“I’m stupid –”
I know it sounds stupid,
It’s pathetically foolish
And seems like *******.
If you could read my mind,
You’d feel the tears
I had ever failed to cry;
You’d see the people
That make the weak weaker;
You’d see the monsters
That consume my head;
You’d hear the hollers
That failed to be freed;
You’d see the heart
That still bleeds and bleeds.
If you could read my mind,
You’d see the face
I’ve failed to show back then,
The face I’ve faked back then.
If you could read my mind,
You’d see a character
I had ever failed to become
If you could read my mind,
You’d be able to read
A book you never wished
To touch and read,
But sometimes I still wish
Someone could read my mind.