Mahdi H 6h

Sometimes I stop
Deep breath
Still the heart beat that seeks to escape this cage
Deep breath
Smile and continue
This is how most of our conversations go
My forefathers were farmers
Hence I know how to grow things by His will
But what does a farmer's son do with a flower
He is shy of thinking about her
But compelled to care
There have been so many niches in this world
And away He turned him again and again
But here it has found lodging
And rest
And an abundance of His gifts.

My eyes were blinded by your appearance that I wore a pair of sunglasses before I greeted you for the first time.
2. My knees kissed the ground as I asked for your hand, life, and soul by offering a ring. A ring that tied us both inside it’s circle.
3. I kissed your lips at the altar while you dug the fireworks I stored in the bottom of my heart and made them blast with every touch you placed on my body.
List:
A poem that is made up of a list of items or events. It can be any length and rhymed or unrhymed.
Ara 11h

Marriage is beautiful
No matter what the age.
The younger the better,
It doesn't disrupt with your dreams
If you find someone you can have a future with,
Then propose!
There is nothing wrong with marrying at the age of 20.
I've heard people say
"I'm too young, I want to follow my dreams"
They leave the ones they love for ambition.
So you can't be ambitious at the age of 60?
Im not saying you need to rush
It might just create a fuss.
All I'm saying is you can be a spouse,
At the same time you can be who you want to be.
Some says they feel trap like a mouse. they lose their freedom after being married.
Well for me I think freedom sounds lonely,
Unless you married the wrong person.
Well don't you want to be with the one and only?

Just some dumb thoughts. I'm not married cause I haven't found my one and only.

Last Night I dreamt of my dead grandmother
And the fear I felt when she was alive
Creeping through the kitchen
Quiet on the pads of my feet to not wake her
And how she would yell
When I would make noise
Sitting on the couch
That had become her home
For she could not stand on her own
and she lived there
with a blanket
watching the tv
   Who is it
And I would almost whisper
   It’s me
And she would say
  What are you doing
Accusing me of something I didn’t understand
washing my hands
but I was really trying to get a cookie from
the blue tin
And I would run out
Back into the sunlight
Out of the dark house
When she passed
We inherited those tins
And a big box of toys
Because she only ate happy meals
In those last years
Happy meals and cookies
Shouting out who is there
In the dark from the couch

Last night
I dreamt of getting married
standing at the alter
across from a man
whose face kept changing
and I couldn’t tell who he was
but we got married
me and the man with the blurry face



Last night I dreamt of a long car ride
Passing trees and corn fields
Scenes I remember from childhood
But I was Headed somewhere I didn’t know
In the back seat
With no one else in the car

Last night I dreamt of the faces
Of everyone I know
And many faces I didn’t recognize
I had heard in a class that the mind can play tricks on you
Putting things together like a puzzle
That you don’t see anything in a dream
That you haven’t somehow seen before

This place is sad without you
It heaves a sigh

Emptying it of our things
Signifies the end of making memories here
The end of filling the air between these walls
With our voices, laughter
Sharing life

I want to load the memories onto a hard drive
And preserve them perfectly
So I won't forget them

I'm afraid to shut the door
And leave forever
Without you

There are songs that no one sings
Yet they are still heard as melodies

And smiles no one paints
But it doesn't mean we can't call that art

And then there is my heart.
How it quivers at the sound of your name,
and how it loses itself in the thought of your smile.

The Perfect way to know for sure is “wait”
or you’re just leaping to the next thing you think that’s great, with a chance of running against fate.

Given a fairy-tale reality
You try your hardest to fight the insecurities
a motivation to finally learn to love yourself
The default setting,
”It's too good to be true."
embraced the idea of bliss soon fleeting

The beginning
Was everything sweet and heart-melting
it was pleasant and pure, simple and warm
It's sitting closer to you just to steal a little warmth
a lovely secret you swear to kept to yourself unless Otherwise
It is a fresh start from hell since you got into your birthday skin

The Otherwise happened
it was so unexpected
like two painters meeting in the middle of the canvas
Realising what they were painting
was just half of something wonderful
and together you created a masterpiece without knowing

Retracing that your entire life was leading up
to this
being overwhelmed
natural instinct kicked in
But being Home
Prevented it from happening
being home disconnects the motherboard

It was like being crippled your entire life
then given a walking stick
And I would ask for nothing more

Just grateful you added a new colour palette in my life
wishing. With you
I could finally
walk slower and enjoy the view I have always loved
Hoping we'd walk to the end hand in hand

How I wish we are so far away from the end
knowing even when we do
Hands would still be linked after crossing the line

I want the entire room to be filled with paintings we paint
trusting nothing could torch it, even with a burning fire Match

Wishful silly thinking hoping it becomes reality.

she tried her best
she did
she tried
to rub
shake him back
get up! get up, please?
her warrior down
no longer fighting
she took rest on
his motionless
purple chest to weep
no longer heaving
breathing life no more
she kissed cold lips
hoping for their
magic to return
miracles to heal
but it wasn't enough
it was
goodbye my love

gmw '17

My cousin was a brilliant football player- a legend in our area. He also proudly served and protected our country in the military. To call him a bear of a man would be selling him out short- he was a giant, but even giants fall. He died of a sudden heart attack at his home with his wife at his side. She said it was so sudden she didn't have time to tell him goodbye while he was alive.
Nashoba 5d

Our eyes met from across the room. I looked away. You moved closer as to prevent me from getting away.
You spoke no words nor did I, seemed as if we had met before, almost just like this day.
You captured my attention. I could no longer look away. Energy you radiated was baffling even to this day.
You asked to sit at the table, the room seemed to empty. It was my mind playing tricks on me. But before I felt so empty. That all changed this very day.
Your hand touched mine, tingles of energy. Emotions transferred through the touch. I knew there could be more for us.
I longed for your voice so soothing bringing me peace. Your presence, became an addiction like you were a drug. I was dependant on, your energy.
Love you said to me. But I was never enough. You sought out others one by one, only I called your bluff.
You made me captive my heart, my mind, my body and my soul. Making me be self destructive. You swore you cared. But yet you continued to roam.
You were my soul mate as I was yours. Breaking my heart in half which you thought was yours.
I prevailed, you lost much. As only one true soul mate exists in your life, all others are fakes. You learned the harshest way, when the others slammed the door. Leaving you in the streets. Thank God I knew more.
I realized I had made a mistake. Being vulnerable at that stage in life. You were a player knowing how to see the weakness. Your words were as fake as you. Blessed with ones to show me the way away from you.
I learned much from you. You were never my soul mate but a soul sucking demon. I learned to look past the game face of others just like you.
I found my real mate. My soul mate no doubts for sure. Should you ever read this note, know that I couldn't ask for more. I'm loved unconditionally. Protected by him. I gave this man my hand in matrimony, and shall be for him with him until my end.
Nashoba copyrighted 2010

Mama washes the clothes
And hangs them out to
Dry, she takes me by my
Hand and we dance beneath
The twelve o'clock sky.

Papa goes to out and
Doesn't come home until
Late, we're all snuggled in
Bed by the time Mama asks
Him why he hasn't ate.  

He's missing out on time with
The kids,
Mama tells her sister
One dreary day.

I might just have to work more, she'll say.

Papa feels weak, thinks it's his job
To provide for a family that's
Just starting to fray.

Mama works and we ask
Why she won't come to play.

Papa tells me she's off to
Work, that it'll just be for
A little while.

But, days turn into weeks,
Weeks turn into months,
Months turn into years.
Instead of Mama, Daddy now
Wipes my tears.

They tell him that he's a poor
Excuse of a man
And that Mama is better
Off finding a real one.

Times have changed,
Families grow in different ways.
Sometimes things happen,
But I've learned that
Mama's and Papa's still
Love their children just the same.

A piece reflecting my childhood. My mother and father struggled for years to have children. When they finally did, my mother dreamed of being a stay at home mom to me and my younger brother. However, my father struggled to hold down a job, forcing my mother to work full-time while my dad looked for anyone who would hire. This lasted for years: my father losing job after job, drowning his sorrows in alcohol and my mother growing more and more bitter at my father and at the fact that she was missing out on time with her children. I was too young at the time to realize the circumstances, but now that I'm older, I have a much better perspective on it.
Next page