keeeptalking

October 1, 2015

Miracle

Filed under: Poetry — by Zuhair @ 1:05 pm
Tags: , , ,

It is not the flower

that chooses its own colour,

nor the sun that

controls its heat.

It is not the fuzz of the dandelion

that chooses its function,

and while the chameleon

may choose its location,

its disguise

is but circumstance.

It is not the berries

that choose their own poison,

nor the butterflies

that choose their brilliant pattern.

It is not the caterpillar

that decides to be a butterfly,

nor is it the dew

that chooses, so quickly, to die.

And so it was not me

that made this possible

but you, that chanced upon me

to cause this miracle.

dewdrops on roses

Image: Dewdrops on roses. Zeeniya Zuhair. 2015.

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September 15, 2015

Ink

Filed under: Poetry,Society — by Zuhair @ 3:35 pm
Tags: , ,

I seek the most perfect words

and the most faultless rhymes

to declare my numbness

to all emotion,

except that which exists in me for you,

for the plain reason

that in being unable

to present it physically

with my being,

I attempt daringly

to convey it with my ink.

william-michael-harnett-still-life-with-ink-bottle-book-and-letter

Image: William Micheal Harnett. Still life with ink bottle, book and letter.

September 6, 2015

A place to go

Filed under: Poetry — by Zuhair @ 2:31 pm
Tags: ,

Let us disappear

into the lush forests of nature,

the magnificent canyons

with deep corridors;

 the green islands

surrounded by turquoise waters;

or the grey and red beaches of Santorini,

to watch the orange sun as it rises and sets patiently.

Let us vanish

into the giant walls

of lost civilizations,

China’s grassland and mountain

that lie around the giant dragon,

into Europe’s fire and ice,

the volcanic islands,

as they slowly sink,

or the coral reefs that guard them, red, blue and pink.

Let us dance

in Mexico, amongst the crystals

buried inside their caves,

the still blue lakes

and their green neighbours,

the cotton castles of Denizli;

the springs and pools of Turkey,

or with the green, grey and azure of Lika,

the waterfalls of Croatia.

Let us frolic

with the migrating monarch butterflies,

the living jewels

of Socotra,

or the emerald green,

turquoise and aquamarine

that play with the pink and blue marble of South America,

or the orange and white daisies of Namibia.

Let us go where lovers go;

be but be invisible,

Let us pray and let us play

Let us be but be unseeable.

namaqualand daisies

Image: Retrieved from 66squarefeet.blogspot.com. on 06/09/2015.

September 1, 2015

Nothing

Filed under: Poetry,Society — by Zuhair @ 4:13 pm
Tags: , ,

Nothing in this existence can compare

to this, so rare;

so beautiful,

so magnificent and full,

for this belongs to

us. To me and to you.

And I shall not steal,

nor shall I refuse to feel;

for as long as you endure,

so shall I.

nothing

August 18, 2015

A melancholy state

Filed under: Poetry — by Zuhair @ 5:45 am
Tags: ,

The beautiful moon cannot glow,

and the rivers cannot so softly flow;

The shy plants cannot turn away,

and the silent night,

sprinkled with secret sounds,

cannot be stolen by day,

as long as we are so separate,

as separate as the moon and the sun,

and the sand and the sky

in so melancholy a state.

C

Image: Charles Codman. Cabin in the Woods.  1828.

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Women in Islam

Amal Ahmed Albaz

Journalist; Poet; Speaker. Superman’s got his cape around his neck; I've got my hijab around my head.

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