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 Nov 2015
irinia
"I live not in myself, but I become
Portion of that around me..."
George Gordon Byron

"The bliss of man (could pride that blessing find)
Is not to act or think beyond mankind:
No powers of body or of soul to share,
But what his Nature and his state can bear."
Alexander Pope

"...body is but a striving to become mind... it is mind in its essence"
Samuel Taylor Coleridge

"... insight that he in some sort possesses,
A privilege whereby a work of his,
Proceeding from a source of untaught things
Creative and enduring, may become
A power like that of Nature's."
William Wordsworth

"What am I? ?Nothing: but not so art thou,
Soul of my thought with whom I traverse earth,
Invisible but gazing, as I glow
Mixed with thy spirit, blended with thy birth,
And feeling still with thee in my crush'd feelings' dearth."
George Gordon Byron

"Imagination is a Divine Vision not of the World, or of Man, nor from Man as he is a Natural Man, but only as he is a Spiritual Man."
William Wordsworth

"Forthwith this frame of mine was wrenched
With a woaful agony,
Which forced me to begin my tale;
And then it left me free."
Samuel Taylor Coleridge

"That awful Power"..."which unites clearness with depth, the plenitude of the sense with the comprehensibility of the understanding".*  * the creative faculty [my note]
S. T. Coleridge
what is there to be learned from the poets, people who thought and felt and created their versions of what it means to be alive
 Nov 2015
irinia
I didn’t know you were here to stay... you’ve found a place to rest inside this chest. there is no one there, on the other side. why can I measure my life in pain-years?  I am going to listen to the weight of your step... we are so many... poor bodies with slaughtered desires. life lifts up gently like hypnotic steam from raw bodies while you growl inside my bones. you have thorns of truth and short sentences: “papa doesn’t love me”, “mama keeps cursing”, “I am useless”. you are the only thing alive since I insist to lay down in my mother womb over and over again. have me expelled, have me covered in a blanket of blood so that I do not see the future.  you keep giving birth to my selves.
stop looking at me with charcoal eyes, father
look, mother, you can have me silenced for the beauty of dawn
 Nov 2015
Sharina Saad
The sweetest smile
Is the smile of a mother
Who loves too much
Who Cares too much
Who gives too much
Who never counts rewards
Just sincere love...
Only a mother can
Die for
Lie for
Sacrifice everything
precious
for her innocent child
To grow up happy safe and secure
The loudest cry
Is in the heart
Of a mother
Who folds her sadness
Deep down
Who fakes a smile at times
Watching how swiftly
Her angel child grows
There are times
A little Sorrow in her eyes
When you let her down
A tiny tear drops
Does it show?
Her gentle heart sometimes scarred...
Occasionally bruised..
Her hidden tears
Her frustration and anger
Will you know?
Her heart always warm
Her hugs sincere
Sweet mother
Never bitter
Trust a mother's love
For better for worse
Her sweetest love
will never shatter..
This poem " Sweet Love" is dedicated to all young graduates of UiTM Kedah who are having your convocation right now!!
Remember this, you will never be who you are today without that humble woman whose eyes are brewing with happy tears at this moment watching you receiving your scroll on that PROUD STAGE.
CONGRATULATIONS FOR MAKING YOUR MOM, YOUR LECTURERS AND THE UNIVERSITY PROUD. BEST WISHES FOR THE FUTURE!!
 Nov 2015
Sharina Saad
I figure
He'd miss this day
Just like he had before
During my most important days
Throughout my grow up days
My first day at school
My concert day
My speech day
My sports day
And other significant days..
But i wished he is here today
To witness this meaningful day
How I wish you are here daddy...
Somewhere in the crowd
Wearing your blazer and your ties
Like the way I used to see you
During my childhood days.....
I take a last glance at the audience
in the magnificent hall
I stand still
A pang of frustration
My anger boils
My name was announced
I am taking my step
Heavily
Very slowly...
Unbelievably.......
A proud figure standing tall
at a corner
The loudest clap I hear
A handsome smile on daddy's face
Daddy is finally here..........
‪#‎Convocation‬ I wish daddy's here
Convocation Day... Daddy where are you?
 Nov 2015
irinia
the sea is sighing like a woman
and I can hear its breath
of a hunted man
nearby yellow flowers
wild stones
salt drops stinging my arms
two seagulls dart out of my eyes
and fly side by side
speaking to each other over water
like human beings
in the absence of love

Carmen Firan
translated by Andrei Bantas
 Nov 2015
irinia
Hello, brother
God is nobody’s toy
saying hello, the hardest part
while rifles are getting cold
and army of tears are passing through
I know you see this too
there is only one blood
one pain
one thirst for revenge even
same wind
different chill
different bow
different the choreography of laughter
and a patient god dormant
in the gentleness
of hearts
dedicated to the young Muslim man who had enough trust to invite Parisians in mourning to embrace him, and to all who have cried.
 Nov 2015
Sjr1000
I offer you this innocence,
come on in,
condemnation
judgement
vitriol
are left on the other side
of the walls of skin.

Hearts may open here
tears may tumble
walls may fall
in this moment between you and me.

We will offer
truths and tenderness
for every imagined sin.

Life's a puzzle
the pieces are in
earthquake shambles scattered
across the floor.
There are places for each puzzle piece
to put together,
we may even find bliss.

Sometimes this life is too complex
too hard to fathom
too easy to plummet,
we all need a place to
explore
unload
forgive.

This is the innocence
feel free to come on in,
your secrets are safe here,
never told by me.

It has been said
we are as sick as our secrets,
burrowing through our eyes
in dark packets of disguise.
But in this sanctuary
lies dissolve
innocence returns,
We find a chance to begin again.

Put down the masks
Put down the resentments
Put down the propped up sorrows
Our truths will set us free.

The door is open
the glowing warmth of connection
is at your disposal,
come speak to me
the accumulated hurts of where you have been,
through these true confessions
hurts pass
not forgotten
but
forgiven.

We can begin again.

The puzzle pieces lost
will be found,
compassion and forgiveness
become our friends.

Abandon all pasts
seen through a child's eyes,
in this time of now
we can become cozy
snuggle up in this warm bath embrace.
Sometimes we all need a place to hide
in all the necessary pillows and comforters.

Either in words or in silence,
we'll find that spot of transformation,
begin again,
once you enter this innocence,
from the tangle
as birds well know,
we can fly free again.
~¤~ω~¤⊙¤~ω¤~

My father told me
this is Love
how two people show
tender feelings for
one another

My father held me
so very close
I had always wanted
To be his Special Girl
Number One in our
cloistered world

My father used his charm
to keep me in his arms
till he was done with me.

Then I became
Uncomfortable
Inconsolable
Unreachable
Unlovable

I beseech abusers everywhere
Please let the children be.

~¤~ω~¤¥⊙¥⊙¥¤~ω¤~
~Moonflower~Fluer de Luna~April 2015~
I beseech fathers, grandfathers,
uncles, brothers, teachers,
bosses, camp leaders,
cleargy and pedophiles everywhere
Please let the children be.
 Nov 2015
irinia
everywhere there was darkness
high above it was dark
                    always it was dark
a syrupy darkness
       seeped into your mouth / stuffed your ears
slapped you across your eyes
you couldn't tell what direction
                 you might move in
a darkness of iron
     over hearts and minds
sometimes we chance upon each other / we shake hands
      with somebody / then somebody else
but the guillotine of cold
   abruptly cuts short
this beginning
the dark / always the dark
                       forever darker
over all things
in the soul / in the mind
on the earth
(the  darkness above darkness)

Cassian Maria Spiridon from City of Dreams and Whispers
translated by Adam J. Sorkin and Mihai Ursachi
 Nov 2015
Dreams of Sepia
Inside this Cocoon of night
nu jazz plays competing
with Lana del Rey tracks
amidst the dim shadows
outside, the broken light
of stars & you ask
how foxes became urban
I do not know
maybe their wild soul
recognizes that like them, a city can't be tamed
entirely or maybe they're just lost
I do not know
 Nov 2015
Raghu Menon
The Flower Sellers
Rushing with their bundles

The Milk Vendors
Cycling with their milk cans

The Newspaper boys
Sorting out their packets

The Morning walkers
Warming up and stretching

The Chai-walas
Pouring out their teas

The scarfed mill workers
Speeding for their shifts

The vegetable vendors
Carrying their head loads

The Suprabhatham
Flowing from a distant house

The night shift workers
Returning home.

The Municipality workers
Cleaning the streets..

*The city is waking up
Or did it ever sleep?
Chai- Tea, Suprabhatham - Hindu religious hymn sung in morning
it is so sad that
you are so full of yourself
nothing can get in
Senryu
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