Skies thunder, Lightning cracks -a scary darkness I fear most. Stars dim, Winds rage -a scary darkness I fear most. Trees shiver, Rain lingers -a scary darkness I fear most. Friends leave, Family dies. It’s that scary darkness I fear most.
My shot at writing Zuihitsu. For those who don’t know, Zuihitsu is a Japanese style of poetry prose, which consists of random personal thoughts, and fragmented ideas of the author. They are written casually and randomly, without any pre-planned thoughts. This was our final paper in Advanced English Composition class in my last year at university. Each of us had to write about things that quicken our hearts.
1. When the cake that you spent an hour on, rises beautifully in the oven. The aroma of the soft, warm cake fills your lungs with craving and the sweetness of the first bite lingers on your tongue.
2. When you experience your first snowfall. The winds are cold, yet bearable, and when the first snowflake gets caught in your hair, your heart swells with happiness.
3. When autumn arrives, and the shady trees start to strip; and their orange leaves fall to the ground. The soft crunch the dry, and withered leaves make when stepped on, quickens my heart.
4. The bookstore and its own distinctive smell; of old books, old paper and of ink. The books sit there on the shelves, patiently waiting to be opened, to be read, and to be loved.
5. A warm cup of coffee, that tastes just right. The soft aroma of the coffee beans and sugar boosts and exhilarates your senses, and the first sip makes you want more.
6. When it is night, and thoughts, in the dark of your room, creep up in your mind that have the power to suffocate you into sleep and stab you awake before the right hour.
7. When the drums beat, music starts, and the man wearing the sparkly silver glove, white sequined socks and the black fedora strikes a pose and moonwalks his way across the stage.
8. Tiny, forgotten notes that fall from your old books and desk drawers; the paper has aged with time, the words now faded, yet, the sentimental value remains the same.
9. When the sun is up, the sky blue and the day is going well and you hear an announcement of a neighbor’s death from the loudspeakers of the mosque.
10. When you’re sitting on the high chair at the well-lit salon, wearing the long plastic overcoat that hugs your neck, and you realize that the hairdresser has cut your hair more than what you had asked her to.
11. When the battery of your phone dies. The lifeless phone, without power to turn it on, is as useless as a candle without flame on a cold wintry night.
12. Adrenaline pumps through the veins and your heart thunders loudly in your rib cage, as you walk into the spotlight and stage fright overcomes you.
13. You come home after a long tiring day, with a growling stomach, and a delicious smell of food greets you at the door.
14. When your eleven-year-old brothers are wrestling one another, jumping here and there on the bed, and one of them falls down on the floor with a loud thud and a moan.
15. That feeling you get when you give someone the perfect gift. The look on their smiling faces, as they rip the wrapping paper apart with anticipation and excitement, is just priceless.
16. That moment when words start to stream like a river in your mind, but as soon as the pen strikes paper; the thoughts come to a stop and fade away.
17. When you are lounging on the sofa, lost in the movie that you’re watching, and suddenly you realize that you have left the food to heat up on full flame on the stove.
18. A honeybee resting on a flower is a pretty sight, but when it flies fiercely close to your ear, you think otherwise, suddenly fearing the sting of its sharp bite.
19. When you are standing at the rooftop of a skyscraper and look down; the zooming cars seem like little toys, and the people like tiny ants. The wind slaps your face, as your heartbeat escalates, and your height fright intensifies.
20. When you realize that your teacher stood right behind you, and listened to your every word, while you casually sassed him in front of your friends.
I'm a disease,
One without a cure.
Pain is cold
Like waves on the shore.
I am weird,
Right outta my head.
Pain is agony
Like the sun, but dead.
I am alone,
No one to lean on.
Pain is free
Like the lands forlorn.
I am Me,
just a wanderer.
Pain is Me
I wrote this poem on January 28th 2010. I had a very high fever at the time.
This quote is mine. It’s from one of my poems. The girl who designed this for me is the MOST AMAZING typography illustrator ever. ❤ I am absolutely in love with her work! You can check out her art here: Eugenia Clara
I saw a roach with its three heads, and a table running with all beds. I saw a chair rocking in the air, and a yo-yo spinning with the bear. I saw a pen writing on the wall, and an eraser rubbing it all! I saw a wand flicking and floating, and a cat with it's pink coating. I saw a cow flying in the sky, and a poodle zooming just by! I saw a handbag walking all alone, and a mouse speaking on the phone. I saw a deer with its six eyes, and a microphone screaming all lies. I saw a balloon eating the grass, and a pumpkin made of brass. I saw a monkey dressed in gold, and an elephant in a fold. I saw a croc acting too kind, and a donkey with a smart mind! I saw the moon marrying the sun, and a rhino skipping with fun. I saw myself writing this piece, and your dreams fantasies at ease. I saw the fountain on the cloud, A sign of madness? I highly doubt. I saw myself looking down upon me, and at all these signs Crazy, I must be. I saw the world stuck in glue, and this poem read by you. I saw all this and all that, Next thing I know I'm on my face flat...
I wrote this poem in 2007, in Istanbul, Turkey- the night we got there… We were eating at this restaurant when I formed this poem in my head. Time: 10:45 pm. Later, we went to our rooms and then I properly wrote it in black and white…
She was sitting
on the strange bed
on the night of July 22nd.
Her surroundings were unfamiliar,
everything was cold around her
despite the warm weather.
And with tears
streaming down her face,
she recalled what her father just gave her now….
Beatings, thrashings, unforgivable harsh blows.
And she shivered.
Clutching the wand
in her hand
She wanted to cause
She wanted to kill herself
for being born in this family.
She has been of no use
Just caused havocs and pain….
and she hated herself for that.
She pointed her wand
to her chest
and said “Crucio!”
yet she felt no pain.
She yelled “Sectumsempra!”
but still she felt no pang.
She bellowed “Diffindo!”
Her hopes high
yet nothing happened.
She cried “Impedimenta!”
no spark came out.
Her eyes blurred–
more tears to come.
She shook her wand
and yelled “Stupefy!”
and yet again
she felt no pain.
At last, as if
recognizing her defeat,
She help up her wand
more firmly to her chest
and brokenly whispered “Avada Kedavra”
She had no choice…
Yet, she didn’t die..
Because the thing
she was clutching
in her hand was not a wand,
It was just a mere piece of wood…
Lying underneath the stars
Velvet sky above.
The universe stares back at you.
So vast, so big
It makes you wonder…
The grass tickles the back of your neck
But you like it there,
Surrounded by lush trees
that rustle beneath the gentle breeze,
the soft sounds forming a melody
as crickets chirp close by,
and an owl hoots above the trees,
glorifying nature’s epiphany.
Breathing in the sweet fragrance,
Makes you feel trusted, wanted, belonged.
Home, as if you’re in Heaven.
Watching twinkling stars,
Mesmerized by their beauty.
And you forget how lonely you are…