Poetry for ChangeWhat is one question you hate to be asked? Explain.
If I’ve lost weight, rare, then I’m happy. However, I’ll have gained it it, and it shows around my stomach. That area is very sensitive for me, as I’ve had 2 bowl obstruction surgeries, so no matter what I do, I’ll always have a tummy. The good thing about it though is that it shows that I enjoy life/food/ desserts. 😋
As I watch from behind the window
Pane, the snow piled high on the sill
Obscuring nature’s rage as its spill
Of rain and snow creating a gifted bow.
Winds howling,
Snow swerves swiftly,
Banging lustfully
Straining, swinging snowy
Hands hurtling against cement,
Glass, trees, and bushes, swiping
At everything to get in, bent
On gathering warmth to keep their breath.
The heat it garners strengthens
It’s momentum and spits
More icy pellets, flakes of wet snows,
And frozen rain drops.
Icicles drip over bare bushes,
Maples, oaks, evergreens,
All dipped in icy transparent sepulcher
Foretelling breaks and deaths.
Nature’s peaceful gown,
It’s stunning frozen blaze
Will, with time melt and glow
In the blooming spring in a faze.
Almost a century of life, for her,
Seven decades as a ruler,
Having lived through upheavals,
Political and economic battles,
She was renowned for her strength
As a woman in a man’s earth,
Running the world from her
Ivory tower as a great power.
All she does is well documented
By history, media, family, that’s reported
With an eye for scandal,
And everything that’s amoral.
With her death comes younger blood,
Is it better, I wonder? They flood
Their position with new vision
That takes time, patience, and revision.
What will they bring to the table,
That’s enlightening and favorable
For the people?
My poem, To Be or Not To Be, is being published in their upcoming anthology.
I’m supremely excited 😊
To those who’ve experienced death from the earthquake:
My prayers for you are infinite in beseeching Allah/God to help you endure the devastation.
The miracles that have erupted after the earthquake are many and varied:
A newborn surviving 10 days under the rubble.
A young child tells her rescuers that she hasn’t been able to pray.
A father holding his daughter’s hand through the rubble till she was rescued
A 13 year old gas tunnel worker singing his praise to Allah as he works, while the earthquake devastated the area.
The financial aid, from Arab countries, that was sent to the 2 countries was astounding.
These and more reflect that believers still exist, and their prayers are getting answered.
Fragile paper hearts
Easy to tear,
but cuts
Like a bear.
Its unique shape
Lends to despair,
When it broke
By your hand and air.
Its unique shape
Rises into fullness,
Then dips in face
Of falsehood that pierce.
Look into its shape
That seems divided
Into yay and nay, a cape
Of vascillation that cried.
Its tear wails
Till eye sight is blind
With too many choices
And decisions that bind.
Oh ye who have
A paper heart,
Let its love
Blind you and don’t cut.
Share your inner thoughts, ideas, ideals,
That power your imagination and hails
Down upon you, admiration, envy that entails
You have to choose who needs some derails.
Today, we hide behind our likes,
Our social media personae that drives
Our self-esteem into the grounds
If it’s not up to par with your peers.
Why do we hide?
Is intimacy such a bad ride,
That you need masks to keep all inside?
Or do you soar in flight
Fall, shatter, break, and give only a bite
Out of the ball, then turn it into a free for all?
https://theunsealed.com/activity/p/4514/
Comments on my poetry
He calls me angel,
Who gave him another three,
Two girls balanced by a boy,
Whose hearts are intertwined
And need greater space than a tiny heart.
Book signing and presentation of my poetry book, Perfectly Flawed, at OLA Conference, Toronto Metro Convention Center.
It was a wonderful experience where the reactions of the attendees was an empowering experience! Interestingly, it’s black history month, and a few of my poems talk about this topic: Lives Matter, Subjugation, Value Defined, and more
Poetry for Change 