Exert from my poetry book, Perfectly Flawed. Available on all eplatforms. https:///Perfectly-Flawed-poetry-Malak-Kalmoni-ebook/dp/B092YT6QX6/ref=mp_s_a_1_1
What do you think it stands for? Well it’s DEFINITELY not the car insurance company, but rather Canadian Authors Association!
Now my question is: would you, like me, mistake an email from CAA as that for car insurance and ignore it? 🤔
I came across this picture while trying to find out the location of Tonga since it has opened its borders to all refugees. What a humane act from an Island state! Hope others follow in their footsteps!
What do you write about when you’re unsure what to write about?
I fear my feelings are binding my ability to write today. I apologize for that, but then you have to give age its due. With it comes: fatigue and unending worries. In the world we live in today, where war, a crisis in food supply, increasing inflation and gas prices, where or who do you turn to to alleviate some of that pressure?
I try to stay strong for my family by keeping it bottled in. But how long can I manage that?
My only recourse is my faith, in which I drench my soul. It has the ability, with GOD’S words to place a balm of peace over a worried soul.
Try it, you won’t regret it.
Workshops that help teachers incorporate virtual teaching strategies.
A poem by me, read by me, from my poetry book, Perfectly Flawed.
It’s about the beauty of the moon, and the appearance it gives that all is easy. Patience and calm are reflected into the hubris of the 🌙 🌔 .
Scams are on a rise!
My computer, email, and credit card were hacked! They portray themselves as microsoft. Please don’t call them or click on their site.
A poem read by Malak Kalmoni Chehab from her poetry book, Perfectly Flawed.
It’s about how believers don’t need proof of God’s existence, others do.
Insatiable faith is soothing,
As you’re centered to blossoming
Your beliefs into trees whose rooting
Needs are coupled with everything
That’s embued with strength, and holding
Knowledge, that’s irrefutably humbling.
The older the trees, cedar, pine, birch,
Western red cedar, white spruce, red oak, all filtch
Your vision with their hued colors, that stitch
Your heart into nature’s aesthetic
That winds, like the live roots, in bucolic
Wonder, as you’re rooted in awe of the beatific.
These trees, lungs of the earth, tremble
And fall when cut, to make room for buildable
Cities for humanity’s life, that’s indomitable.
As man disembows the earth of air,
He’s also on a journey of self-destruction that’s pair
With his faith, nature, ancestry, and a flair
For annihilation of all that’s fair.