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Books Lover Day

Those of you, like me, who love books, they’ve taken a day out of the year specifically to celebrate our erudite natures. Books are my friends and confidants. They help me overcome difficulties by creating a world that’s simpler, where most rules are applicable, and most importantly, where imagination has free reign to soar.

Below is just a double acrostic poem about this special day!

Buying books isn’t for the weak, who falL

On their faces for their lack of imagination tO

Overcome life’s problems with luV,

Keen on transcending thE

Secrets of being a book buyeR

By: Malak Kalmoni Chehab

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Silent Chaos

Reading ‘Silent Chaos’, a poem from my poetry book, Perfectly Flawed.
It’s about one’s ability to forget the world is there and focus on your inner-self’s need to be in a quiet place where your imagination can flow and bloom.

https://anchor.fm/malak-kalmoni/episodes/Silent-Chaos-e1lj2b4

https:///Perfectly-Flawed-poetry-Malak-Kalmoni-ebook/dp/B092YT6QX6/ref=mp_s_a_1_1

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When I’m bored?

In my poetry book, Perfectly Flawed, there are tiny symbolic drawings that relate to the theme of the poem. An example: a poem titled: ‘Subjugation’ has a ball and chain drawn along the right margin

https:///Perfectly-Flawed-poetry-Malak-Kalmoni/dp/1525582518 Amazon.com

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Book Day

Beauty of books leave nothing to imagerY

Only creating worlds in academiA

Overflowing with all that can be imagineD:

Kings, queens, courtiers, all in a booK.

Devils and monsters dancing in affetuosO

Anger and depression dumped in aerophotO

Yet, we vent them in books that only boB.

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Handwritten poetry with doodles!

I can’t believe some people don’t enjoy writing anymore. Don’t forget all the abbreviations!!!

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Life’s Wuzzle

Winter’s darkened clouds

Hover, lost in starless skies,

As leaden, pewter, ebony ravens

Coalesce in a wonder of worlds.

As the nights are long,

Your thoughts are flung

Into dusky abysses of dung.

As the sleepless nights dance

Into your nightmarish dreams and glance

At the blackish sea where they take a stance;

The sleepless nights fizzle

Making insomnia a rare puzzle

For those trying to live life without a muzzle,

Straining to contain life’s wuzzel.

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Books Serve

“Books serve to show a man that those original thoughts of his aren’t very new at all.” -Abraham Lincoln

Books Serve

Books are a great way to improve your linguistic ability, as well as widen your horizons by using your imagination. No idea in a book is really ‘new’, even Shakespeare only had 3 original concepts for plays, while the others were borrowed from previously written works or histories. This does Not mean that borrowing an idea and altering it to fit your story, theme, action, … is wrong, it just means you needed a starting point. Another example is when contests are themed, or have a word or expression that needs to be used in your work. Does that mean you’re stealing from others or using ‘it’ as a starting point? The result of these contests is that over 20 different perspectives are given by the variety of writers. Are they all plagiarizing when their content is so vastly different? ‘Turn it in’ is another way that teachers and professors assess that your work is at least 80 to 85% your actual writing and not borrowed or copied.

So, tell me what you think about using an idea as a starting point.

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Bright Darkness

The soulless soul seeps into the sewers

Hiding, in hindsight, from historic hatefulness

Heaving the heavy heart into the whole

Whose empty empathy embarks on evil’s espousal.

The darkness drives deep despair, hollow.

Wishing for the weight to endow you with power

That lights the living loving locations, landing

On all that’s heavy, eviscerating it’s emptiness into brightness.

Brilliantly bright spirit of the night

Shine your hopes, colors, freedoms, and love

Into all whose darkness is encompassing the light.

Let the waves and wind blow away the cobwebs

Of emptiness, replacing them with a dove’s

Soaring aspirations, imagination, and freedoms.

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Mentally, I’m There

You’re here, you’re there, you’re everywhere!

Are you with me? Listening, discussing, sending a glare

Voicing your thoughts without really speaking!

Are you really there? Helping, fumbling for wording

Your ideas without being demeaning, or derogatory,

Or critical of me every time I raise a brow, or cheerily

Exclaim my feelings as we speak, or gesticulate freely

To get my point across without misunderstanding.

For a moment there, while talking, I escaped into my

World, created by my imagination, where justice is Never a lie,

Rather it’s the rule, where those who hurt others

Are punished based on the severity of their actions.

Oh what a wonderful wonder that world would be!

Any defamation or horrendous slight is penalized

In accordance to their actions. Pleasured

By all around us, feelings of superiority or inferiority

Are annexed, as all walks of life are needed to favorably

Survive a life filled with differences in needs and abilities.

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Life’s Escape

The indomitable spirit of creativity rises into the mist to freeze;

Statue like, afraid to step out of bounds and create waves.

Upheavals are the bane and blood of lives decimated by the breese

That brings about change, destroying the habit that flays,

Suppresses, and binds your imagination in boxes and trays.

Unfurl the wisps of ingenuity, let them skyrocket

Into a plane of your creation, where equality, being just,

Open minded, and a visionary that’s avant-gardist;

Help lift your spirit into an escape that is not destitute

In its vibrancy, brilliancy of color, mood, race, and emotive

In its design, constructing your humanity in its skeleton,

Building its bones and structure with strength of emotion

That flutters its purpose and sinks into your sedidentary heart.

Reviving its passionate will that bombards your seclusion

With friendship, family, fascination, and a frenzy for life.