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Aaamour 6d
I wake up to,
the cool wind that gently blows
as the fog hides the sun that glows.

I wake up to,
the smell of jasmine that blooms everyday
and to see the colourful flowers that never betray.

I wake up to,
the birds chirping,
to the leaves that sway like the girl I met the other day.

I wake up now to,
my beautiful girlfriend
whom even on her worst days
is no less than the most beautiful flowers.

I wake up to,
next to the most gorgeous girl,
to be with her the next life I shall pray.

I wake up to,
spread love, not hate.

I wake up to,
make the most of these beautiful days,
and to accept death is as crucial as birth.

I wake up to,
realise that all the drama shall play
but when comes the day,
we all shall lay in a grave.
In the given amount of time let's utilise that for the better of the humanity, no matter our circumstances, we all shall be together at death.
Let's live, love and die.
Let's die knowing we have done good,  we've spread love.
As cast into light,
a shadow appears–
a quiet figure, stitched our heels,
moving as we move,
never speaking,
never sleeping.

It doesn’t beg to be seen–
yet it is always there.

It holds what we bury–
fear, denial, and grief;
the voices of fallacy,
the weight of dreams deferred.
In its void,
It collects the pieces
of what we choose to ignore.
The past echoes there.
The burden breathes there.
The purpose waits there.
Still.
Watching.
Black, like every other.

Peace, legacy, desire, love,
life, time, power, freedom–
the purpose we carry,
even in the dark.

Some move through life unaware of its presence.
At times, the shadow devours us as it follows,
becoming the void itself,
the same void we long to escape.

Like the birds that flow within the sky.
Like the wind that goes where it must.
Like art that forgets its maker.
Like the planets, moving by their own will.
Like a name, whispered into time itself.
Like any form it follows, stone, trees, dust.

It does not leave us,
It becomes whole.
Mariah Apr 18
We are people.
Not machines.
We are meant to be appreciated-
and not as merely
property.
jewel Apr 18
over & over again.
i am born.
the ****** carcass
i emerge from
the flesh;
true immortality.
the wounds
i have suffered
turn me inside out;
plum red
and beating.
i am the deliverer of
epilogues, beginnings
of prologues
but i can’t remember
again & again
if this is a curse
or what they call a blessing.
i wish i could savor
a

satisfying

end
copyrighted, poemsbyjewel (2025).
Izan Almira Apr 16
We should write
all our secrets
on a sign
and hang it
on our neck.

“I’ve been suicidal since I was eleven,
my friend died when we were kids
and I'm still not over it,
I was abused of at seven,
my then best friend bullied me
for over a year,
I can’t trust myself,
I sometimes wake up and can’t get out of bed,
I played hide and seek with happiness and never found it,
I hate myself.”


Maybe that way—
when exposed, naked, open for everyone to see—
we’d love each other.

Because we humanize
fictional characters
when knowing
all their secrets
and forget
that secrets
exist
because
you can’t see them.
idk what to think about the middle part, is it good like this or would be better without it?
Ayla Grey Apr 15
Life is made by sorrows
By sadness and despair
Life is made by memories
And words that aren't quite there

Life is wrapped in pieces
And fed to children by the spoon
Life is made by hopes and dreams
And shot far over the moon

Life is full of happiness
But overwhelmed by the pain
And life is full of moments
Like dancing in the rain

Now life can feel so simple
And then take its final toll
Before you realize the fun is over
And now you're growing old

Life will have its ups and downs
Its burdens and its dreams
Life will take its time in pain
And speed through joy like movie scenes

Life will hurt the one that lives
And praise the one who cries
But the beauty in our humanity
Is finding meaning in our lives

We're not meant to live in black in white
We're meant to learn and feel
Our thoughts and our emotions
Are the things that make us real
Arthur Vaso Apr 13
Along the river bank
on a sweltering day
there she was, shining in radiant beauty
lariviere quenched her thirst
her timid smile, gentle touch
personified kindness in tranquility
the desire of many men over time
for she was not one woman
she was a piece of history
re-incarnated many times over
you may have known her as Hind Al-Husseini
who cared for the children of the Nakba
passionate for the plight of all women
her history and roots she proudly expressed
with a museum of folklore, all impressed
Then there was Hind Shoufani
who learnt love from burnt villages
we are all tired, always though in the hearts
love falasteen

re-incarnated yet again
as Hind Rajab
an innocent child
like Jesus feared by evil
and those with power
shot this child over 300 times
sixty bullets for every year of her life
a gentle life stolen by the star of David
of course there was Rostom of the Nile
whose sensual moves so captured the eye
she remained a mystery to most
the humble and shy often do
passant hind at the rivers edge
red hair blowing in the breeze
sadness of the world, a suffocating heat
on the other side of the river
was it my imagination?
or did I see a small smile?
HIND RAJAB
She was born in 2018, she was almost 6 years old when she was staying with her uncle, an evacuation order forced them to leave west Gaza early in January 2024, and it was hard to do that with Zionists Troops all round, there were 6 of them in the car when they were attacked by a Zionist tank, four were killed when her cousin called the Red Crescent begging for help and during the call the tank fired at them and the call was ended, Red Crescent tried to call them again but this time Hind answered cuz her 15 years old cousin was dead, she begged for someone to rescue her, she begged the Red Crescent operator to stay with her on the phone and never hangs up, they stayed like this for hours as they were trying to get a permission from the Zionists Army to send an ambulance to save Hind, the Palestine authority gave them the green light and when the ambulance finally arrived and while they were in touch with the head office and Hind, the tank fired at them and all calls were Lost, after 2 weeks the damaged car and ambulance were found, all were dead .. The Zionists denied having any troops around that area, as they always lie, but the evidence is clear, the car was hit by more than 300 bullets, and the satellites imagery by an independent investigator group from the UK proved that the tank was so close to the car, as Hind said, and it was clear they knew what they were doing but for more than a year, the US ex department kept backing the Zionists with their fake investigation and of course the current one will never even care about it, but we should be rest assured cuz the ones who committed this war crime are the ones investigating it, I think we owe an apology for all serial killers which never had the chance to investigate their own crimes, but what we've been witnessing in the last few months is enough to tell us the true face of the western world and the lies we believed since the 1940s, there's nothing worse than a dictatorship in disguise..


Hind Shoufani is a Palestinian film maker, poet and writer and has lived and worked in many big cities in the Middle East as a writer, producer, film director and editor. She is a founder of the Poeticians poets‘ collective in Beirut and Dubai, in which poets, men and women, from all different backgrounds and origins meet regularly to present their work to each other.

Hind al-Husseini (Arabic: April 1916 – 13 September 1994) was a Palestinian woman notable for rescuing 55 orphaned survivors of the Deir Yassin massacre, after they were dropped off in Jerusalem and left to fend for themselves. She later converted her grandfather Salim al-Husayni's mansion into an orphanage, Dar al-Tifl al-Arabi [it], to house them, which became a school providing education to orphans and other children from Palestinian towns and villages.

Hind Hussain Mohammed, more commonly known by her stage name Hind Rostom, was an Egyptian actress and is considered one of the icons in the Egyptian cinema, as she was mainly known for her sensual roles. Her physical appearance earned her the name Marilyn Monroe of the east
jewel Apr 8
we gather here today,
of not one, but five,
bodies, ours, still embers
drinking our last sip of strife
drunk on blood

one by one
we are the soft streetlamps
flickering in ink
we pierce the sky
soaked in karma &
rugged earth.

so as we partake today,
take your heart, the membrane;
part with your flesh and
the soft of your leg.
bring the yolk of your brain
and

lay yourself upon the plate
we call being human;
come feast upon
the rawness of our own
contents.
copyrighted, poemsbyjewel (2025).
Many flames set asunder,
Each lighting the bark.
Many flames get its owns thunder,
Cracking the infinite dark.

It reshapes what is,
It annihilates what’s his.
God brought the light,
Men sought its might.

Each words carry meaning,
Each word burns the same.
Smoke riles thy beseeching tongue,
Sparking their ignorant flames.

They get crazy,
The crazy man.
It can said it talks,
But they never listen,
Stifling humanity’s walk.

They burn knowledge,
The very light they ate.
God punished not action,
But the poison apple, devils bait.

For now, no innocence sets entropy,
For stupidly of ignorant fools flame society,
Killing humanity’s last flame.

And now, darkness breaches realm,
As embers churn in rage, rage,
Against the dying of the  light.
The last of humanity, the last blight.
Gods wrath, now late, seeks no sight.

I rest here,
Could hope reset my dead ember?
I know not of eternity.
But I know it can be.
I had inspirations of knowledge, and the ever fight against ignorance that put the very flame of power in our hands. I got inspiration to use part of Dylan Thomas’s poem, “Do not go gentle in that good night,” as the fight is ever present today, as it must so. “The Crazy Man” also fits here, too.
The profit of greed
Is the only thing they need.
Man want more,
For the seeds they sow.

I profit more,
Till I start to pour.
I take others lives,
To feed my fearful lies.

I take what’s free,
To monopolize and fee.
Oh, you think you’re free?
I lock, no key.

What further more,
Shall suffer need.
I take before,
Your life, I feed.

They do this more,
The plagues saturate the poor.
All I need is myself alone,
To finally destroy humanities stone.
This is where unchecked capitalism and greed can satiate the need of more over human rights. There are many examples of this, including today, such as big pharmaceutical and other industries that we need further consumer protection from under the restrictions of basic human needs. Such as the needs of profits over basic rights we presume today, and the stagnation of innovation from the manipulation of patents and lobbyists that do not have the interest of humanity in mind.
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