tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16876211355293610252024-02-18T23:44:21.806-08:00The Ramblings of ShaShahoodehhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01936672279952603375noreply@blogger.comBlogger79125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1687621135529361025.post-43723269086312915232015-06-22T15:13:00.001-07:002016-10-09T03:14:55.138-07:00#Ekls<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
<br />
Dear Readers.<br />
<br />
I've loved having all of you interacting with me and telling me your thoughts and stories. Its been a great couple of years with #EKLS blog stories.<br />
<br />
Thank you for taking Mansour and Amna into your hearts.<br />
<br />
Feel free to follow me on Instagram and Twitter on @Rambling_Sha.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Love always,<br />
<br />
Sha</div>
Shahoodehhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01936672279952603375noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1687621135529361025.post-63681854760987339402012-08-16T02:48:00.000-07:002012-08-16T02:48:19.541-07:00Too feeble a wordFill my heart to the brim<br />
With your frothy syrupy sweetness<br />
You pour into me as effortlessly as milk<br />
Into bitter black coffee<br />
You swirl around my soul<br />
Plundering the dregs of resentment and hurt<br />
Bringing your light to my darkness<br />
As I wonder why do people change?<br />
And why can't everything stay the same?<br />
But then I remember you<br />
Ever constant, ever faithful<br />
Ever there…<br />
And Love is too feeble a word<br />
For all the surges, plunders, and tumults<br />
Within me for you.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmdv-2njG37SUvLzzWhOm3LB5UpTHiOEqPjrBhX5Z5hJ06pC196NiBHhYgCoSplCGL-x0VQZtD36dFlRtB6s-B8pEozYDQOcqBX8qHCbZXXX9LanRkQ546D6DBa4_UL32CmqvlfpX0s1o/s1600/cafe+solare.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear:right; float:right; margin-left:1em; margin-bottom:1em"><img border="0" height="150" width="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmdv-2njG37SUvLzzWhOm3LB5UpTHiOEqPjrBhX5Z5hJ06pC196NiBHhYgCoSplCGL-x0VQZtD36dFlRtB6s-B8pEozYDQOcqBX8qHCbZXXX9LanRkQ546D6DBa4_UL32CmqvlfpX0s1o/s200/cafe+solare.jpg" /></a></div><br />
Shahoodehhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01936672279952603375noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1687621135529361025.post-10015780461169205752012-07-31T22:34:00.000-07:002012-07-31T22:34:21.690-07:00Untitled Chapters: The Reading: Thru a Rambler's eyesMariam al Qubaisi sat next to me at the Untitled Chapter's Reading. I was flipping my cue cards nervously and praying for courage. I had gone over the order of speakers a million times, but I still worried. Mariam had her story in her hands and kept reading words out loud. She spoke to me softly and, for a moment, she reminded me of a younger me. "I love writing. I'll never stop, but of course I need to get a proper job" She was exuberant, passionate, and I remembered being a bit like that at her age. It struck me that, at eighteen, I never thought farther than just being a novelist. I have never even thought of myself as a poet, although the writings I share the most are poetry. That burst of realism made my heart clench. I know eighteen is on the verge of adulthood, but I remember it being full of impossible dreams. <br />
"We need you to inform the audience that we're going to start late because there's a lot of traffic"<br />
<br />
"We need you to tell them we have a best tweet competition" <br />
<br />
My world was spinning. I didn't know why I was so mute. I spoke but it felt like my voice never reached that volume. I cringed at my own shyness and it felt obvious. I thought everyone could hear my heart thundering. I was so out of my element and I was exhilarated. Afra pulled us aside for pep talks with all the efficiency of a foot ball coach before a big game. Because she was Afra, there were also hugs that would infuse us with confidence. Where was mine? <br />
The video played. Fatima al Bannai got up and talked about the event. I wondered at her fearlessness, though I could see that she was as tense as a lot of us were. Our founder in so many ways reminds me of an arrow that's poised to be shot into a bull's eye. It's that Mashallah energy that keeps us all driven. Her willowy arms were expressive and her clipped words were melodic in her excitement. <br />
I introduced the girls. I struggled to sound natural and at ease. There were moments where it felt forced and like I was trying too hard. That sense of duality struck me as I tried to imagine what I looked and sounded like. There were moments where the tone was just right. I paused where I was supposed to. There were other moments where I felt like a record that squeaked in all best parts of a song. <br />
Afra Ateeq is such a talent. When she gets up to do Spoken Word, the audience holds their breath. The words tumble out of her faster and faster and though I've heard it likened to rap. It's not a way to describe it. She's like Beethoven when he dances his fingers across the keys and creates complicated crescendos. Her spoken word pieces are like rhapsodies of realism, motivation, and humor. When she introduced me to get up and read my poem, it felt like my legs had turned to jelly. I didn't know what carried me forward. I read my poem and though I wasn't as loud as I would have liked. I read my words and for a moment even the trembling stilled. I couldn't hear my heart anymore, only the words. I don't know if my fellow writers feel this surreal disconnect from words and the feeling of déjà vu. There's a moment where you forget you wrote the piece you hold, but it's so familiar the words are like a pulse, always beating. <br />
Lately I'm convinced that adulthood is like being into two different cars headed towards separate directions passing each other by on the street. I believe that the change isn't merely growing up, but evolving and regressing at the exact same time. It's been two years since I graduated from University of Sharjah. I was ready to fly out of the nest. I was ready to conquer the world. There was so much I expected but I didn't know graduating would take me out of myself, out of that woman I used to be. I didn't know it would rend me in half. I didn't expect my 'realistic' expectations to be so far from the truth. Sometimes I hear that essence of who I used to be in my mind, but it's like the rest of me has forgotten how to bring her into being. It feels a little like being a puppet with strings cut. I'm the same and I'm not. There is this cautiousness where I hide my words, choosing only to share them with my friends, instead of shouting them out loud. I'm not even shy by nature, but it possesses me more often than not. I used to love being center stage and having teachers and students lean in closer when I read poetry out loud. This cautiousness came over me on stage and I almost wanted to take my words and hide them. <br />
When Afra and Fatima turned to me and asked me to MC Untitled Chapter's Reading, inwardly I cowered and quaked. That more than anything convinced me that I needed to say yes. I needed to conquer that twinge of doubt, beat it on the head, and quench it forever. I need to conquer fears and find a way to that person I used to be. When I find her, then I can point her towards the future and go to sleep content that she's still here. <br />
Standing on stage, my glance wandered to Shamma's mom and somehow I announced her as the cue cards betrayed me. "Just go with it" Ordered Afra and I babbled the rest incoherently and tried to sound at ease. <br />
When Shamma reads her words, it feels like they are alive. We all lean in because her voice is like a whisper, but brimming with mystery, fantasy, and an insight beyond her years. She can be a narrator in a movie, quiet and reflective. Everyone stops breathing for fear that even a sigh would make you miss a word. <br />
Maryam Al Mansouri came and she read a patriotic poem about the UAE in Arabic followed by an English one. It's a gift to have a range. I know so few people who are able to say I write in both English and Arabic Mashallah.<br />
Hessa's poetry is vibrant, beautiful, and the kind of Arabic I see myself translating. She's the female version of Nizar Qabbani. Forget the man worshipping women in his poetry and think instead of the woman not even demanding to be worshipped, but coolly expecting it. Her vibrant voice thrums as she delivers the words and those enthusiasts of Arabic prose lean in closer.<br />
Amna wrapped up the reading with her piece "Living your life limitlessly." Amna is the kind of person who makes you believe that dreams come true, even though her advice is usually practical and simple. I've never met anyone more down to earth and although I've read her piece over and over, it still manages to resonate within me. <br />
The Reading wrapped up with questions from the audience. My favorite moment of the whole night was when Shamma's mom spoke and she said girlishly "I'm Shamma's mom!" Shamma standing up to recite her marshmallow poem was another of my favorite moments. <br />
It's the kind of night that inspires you for days, weeks, and months to come. It was the kind of night that makes you want to be the person you want to be. You want to be brave. You want to be fearless. You want to believe, and with Untitled Chapter you do just a little. I know adulthood isn't all I thought it was going to be. I know I'm not all that I want to be. I haven't even reached my potential yet. For one night though, words shimmered in the air and all the speakers from 15 to 18 and above were my sisters, my family. They knew my fears, my weaknesses, and all that I adored and was passionate about because they were enslaved and empowered by the pen just as much as I was. Did I conquer all my fears? It may be a long time before I decide to MC again. I'll just build up the courage a little at a time. My small acts of bravery right now are putting my poetry back in the world and updating my blog. <br />
<br />Shahoodehhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01936672279952603375noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1687621135529361025.post-72455417794507814892012-07-21T03:14:00.001-07:002012-07-21T03:14:59.696-07:00A Red BalloonWritten July 13/2010- Special thanks to Maha Al Dhaheri for the illustration<br />
<br />
------------<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
With your light fingers and careful black marker<br />
<br />
You drew happy smiles on my face<br />
<br />
Bandaged the holes in my soul<br />
<br />
And filled me up with your breath<br />
<br />
When I was empty and cold<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
And I floated in the wind<br />
<br />
Higher and higher<br />
<br />
More giddy than battered<br />
<br />
Bobbing against the clouds<br />
<br />
Carefree and you can barely<br />
<br />
Even see the scars from where<br />
<br />
You stand, looking up at me<br />
<br />
Willing me to go even further<br />
<br />
Even as you hold tight<br />
<br />
Not willing to let go<br />
<br />
And in your gaze, I'm magic<br />
<br />
Everything you love about childhood<br />
<br />
And oh so much more<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
I'm so afraid<br />
<br />
That without you<br />
<br />
I'll just be another balloon<br />
<br />
Nothing special<br />
<br />
Nothing sacred<br />
<br />
Just a silly thing bobbing in the air<br />
<br />
Not knowing where to go<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
and neither I willing to go<br />
<br />
Maybe I'm not meant for the heavens<br />
<br />
Maybe I'm not meant to be far from you<br />
<br />
But nothing is ever the way we want<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
The string slipped through your fingers<br />
<br />
And I roamed the vast sky brave and alone<br />
<br />
But in the breeze, I heard the steady sound<br />
<br />
Of your breathing…<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtyaH12pU87txZA8nnFLINBCJJIBhT2NfjDJEDX1j4V7zzTnLZnNYrYLXtPbhPAxOCJbqfnmtcJQ-9vKYtYEzRPU2X8rG6M6ea0hMMGsxZo1BCyaS9KTEwlrG6AI9uK0lcupecWl7kKgQ/s1600/red+balloon.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear:right; float:right; margin-left:1em; margin-bottom:1em"><img border="0" height="200" width="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtyaH12pU87txZA8nnFLINBCJJIBhT2NfjDJEDX1j4V7zzTnLZnNYrYLXtPbhPAxOCJbqfnmtcJQ-9vKYtYEzRPU2X8rG6M6ea0hMMGsxZo1BCyaS9KTEwlrG6AI9uK0lcupecWl7kKgQ/s200/red+balloon.jpg" /></a></div><br />Shahoodehhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01936672279952603375noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1687621135529361025.post-3912684643697259402012-07-15T11:51:00.002-07:002012-07-15T11:51:13.728-07:00Remember me...<br />
Remember me when my image starts to fade<br />
When memories become hazy and half remembered<br />
<br />
Remember the tears we soaked one another<br />
But most of all remember the laughter<br />
<br />
I would keep you if I could<br />
I would hold you to me<br />
For longer than even forever can begin<br />
To comprehend<br />
<br />
I wish I could bid you to forget me awhile<br />
And only think upon me with a smile<br />
But my love has always been the selfish kind<br />
Possessive and all encompassing<br />
<br />
I would inhale all of your breaths<br />
Let you lose yourself upon my kisses<br />
Suffocate you with sweetness<br />
And dig my nails into you desperately<br />
<br />
I would inhale all of your breaths<br />
And cling to you with my last one.<br />
Can you breathe without me?<br />
Must you leave? Must you<br />
<br />
Sadness and joy mingled into sorrowful goodbyes<br />
A last bittersweet kiss tasting of tears and you<br />
<br />
As the horizons too are kissed<br />
By the setting sun<br />
Light a candle for me<br />
And I hope you remember me at my best<br />
<br />
Remember how I loved new beginnings,<br />
New years, Birthday wishes,<br />
And you, always you<br />
<br />
Because I will,<br />
Remember.<br />
And I still<br />
Can't quite<br />
Breathe<br />
With<br />
You<br />
Gone<br />Shahoodehhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01936672279952603375noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1687621135529361025.post-10950822653175841802012-07-11T12:46:00.002-07:002012-07-11T12:46:52.292-07:00Remember when..Dedicated to Rorafication because a lot of this poem is inspired by Robert Francis's Eighteen.<br />
<br />
...........<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Remember when you promised to hold me tight<br />
Beneath the moonlight<br />
While waves rolled lazily beneath us<br />
I laughed at your clichés<br />
Till you said I was purer than foam lacing the waves<br />
And my breath caught in my throat at the sincerity<br />
<br />
Do you remember how young we were?<br />
Eighteen and pretending we knew love<br />
When neither of us comprehended<br />
Intoxicated and giddy at holding hands<br />
Sobbing at the helpless tragedy of it all<br />
<br />
Neither of us really knew life<br />
And I broke your heart<br />
With the carelessness of children<br />
Not really meaning to<br />
I've always been too restless<br />
But sort of wanting to<br />
Maybe I've always been a little cruel<br />
<br />
I've always repented<br />
Tainted and tarnished<br />
I don't polish as well<br />
My gleam's half gone<br />
My regrets are endless<br />
And my yesterdays are full of you<br />
And tomorrow no one ever knows<br />
<br />
But I broke your heart<br />
And mine has never been all<br />
that whole to begin with<br />
<br />
<br />Shahoodehhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01936672279952603375noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1687621135529361025.post-64023794183275543782012-06-26T02:59:00.000-07:002012-06-26T02:59:02.866-07:00Sky scrapers and SadnessStar-Studded sky scraper<br />
rising in the distance<br />
flickering like a candle<br />
<br />
In the darkness,<br />
I keep you<br />
and embrace the sadnessShahoodehhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01936672279952603375noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1687621135529361025.post-25002241297828918222012-06-24T13:10:00.001-07:002012-06-24T13:11:04.388-07:00I carry Earth Quakes inside me<br />
Breathe against my heart<br />
That familiar warmth<br />
That mends…<br />
<br />
Kiss me once and drift away<br />
Far into the wind<br />
Until yearning becomes me<br />
<br />
You breathe against my heart<br />
A little while, a suspended moment<br />
And my heart no longer breaks<br />
It quakes so hard it rips me asunder<br />
<br />
How many times must I tell you how fragile I am?<br />
<br />
Brush against me<br />
A teasing breeze<br />
Freezing my blood<br />
The loss that never leaves<br />
My blue pouts and the whispered confusion<br />
That I will never show you<br />
<br />
I carry Earth Quakes inside me<br />
Tornadoes skipping through the void<br />
Howling hard enough to remind me<br />
That only I remain<br />
With only my arms to hold me in place<br />
<br />
Alone with my shivering grief <br />
The sandstorms in my heart<br />
The volatility of my own nature<br />
<br />
But breathe against my heart<br />
Break me imperceptibly<br />
With that same familiar warmth<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Shahoodehhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01936672279952603375noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1687621135529361025.post-83923675793466247452012-05-10T05:02:00.000-07:002012-05-10T05:02:05.854-07:00Stairways to my dreams<br />
This was a poem I read at Untitled Chapter's first event The Reading. It's also published on Untitled Chapter's website http://untitledchapters.com/2012/04/29/staircase-to-my-dreams/#more-692<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
I climb stairways in search of my dreams<br />
<br />
On and on, the bannisters sway<br />
<br />
Polished wood gleams<br />
<br />
My lumbering steps, heavy<br />
<br />
Clumsy as I plunge endlessly<br />
<br />
When I haven’t even begun to climb<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Glass slippers shatter<br />
<br />
Shards piercing my skin<br />
<br />
I bleed upon the marble floor<br />
<br />
Your reflection, shivers<br />
<br />
Within crimson mirrors<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
I fall asleep upon raven’s feathers<br />
<br />
Burrowing into the darkness<br />
<br />
Craving the warmth of your fire<br />
<br />
My soul searching for yours<br />
<br />
A hopeless kiss upon iced lips<br />
<br />
And life breathed into me<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
I hold on to nothing<br />
<br />
I hold on to everything<br />
<br />
All my fairy tales<br />
<br />
All my hopes<br />
<br />
My heart barely begins<br />
<br />
To feel full<br />
<br />
Before it’s empty again<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
And, you, my desperate desire,<br />
<br />
My incandescent weakness<br />
<br />
Will you ever know how much of my strength<br />
<br />
Hangs upon your selfless heart?<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
All my dreams<br />
<br />
And you,<br />
<br />
my love,<br />
<br />
are lost<br />
<br />
Inconceivable<br />
<br />
Unattainable<br />
<br />
Utterly beyond my reach<br />
<br />
Dissipating into the morning light<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Shahoodehhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01936672279952603375noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1687621135529361025.post-38895656988489779382012-05-08T03:03:00.002-07:002012-05-08T03:03:49.834-07:00The solid breadth of you<br />
The solid breadth of you<br />
All encompassing<br />
<br />
Enveloping me <br />
<br />
My weary head<br />
<br />
Against your steady heartbeat<br />
<br />
I love you wholeheartedly<br />
<br />
Desire you unashamedly<br />
<br />
With terrible possesiveness<br />
<br />
And fervent fervent fury<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
I love every star in your gentle sky<br />
<br />
Every wave in your rolling seas<br />
<br />
Every dream you dare<br />
<br />
Every thought you hold<br />
<br />
And words shaped upon your lips<br />
<br />
Like countless kisses upon my own<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
I long to keep you<br />
<br />
Like Dubai yearns for rain<br />
<br />
A whispered prayer of mercy<br />
<br />
A continued presence<br />
<br />
A continued blessing<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
But the winds are blowing you away<br />
<br />
And I'm the forlorn, the broken<br />
<br />
Watching you drift into the unknown<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Shahoodehhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01936672279952603375noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1687621135529361025.post-81065320867402754992012-05-06T21:36:00.001-07:002012-05-06T21:37:51.443-07:00The promise of melancholy<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"></div><br />
<br />
I breathe in mornings full of promise<br />
<br />
Half formed dreams and drowsiness<br />
<br />
Prayers whispered, heartfelt pleas<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
The melancholy within me<br />
<br />
Rises up to drown me<br />
<br />
Rip my fragile soul<br />
<br />
Full of love and loss<br />
<br />
Tattered and thread bare<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
I breathe in afternoons of dreariness<br />
<br />
I laugh louder and clearer<br />
<br />
I talk to fill up the silence<br />
<br />
I whisper prayers <br />
<br />
Keeping it all at bay<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
The melancholy swallows me<br />
<br />
That infernal abyss<br />
<br />
The misery that burns through <br />
<br />
My veins, tightening my skin around me<br />
<br />
I would crawl out of my being<br />
<br />
Demented and deprived<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
I breathe in cool evenings<br />
<br />
Feel its breath against my tears<br />
<br />
I want more than I can bear to hold<br />
<br />
I hold more than I can bear to keep<br />
<br />
Stitched into silence and compliance<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
The melancholy whistles through me<br />
<br />
Ice ripping through my being<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
I pray<br />
<br />
I whisper<br />
<br />
I sob<br />
<br />
For this weak<br />
<br />
Fragile heart<br />
<br />
The strength<br />
<br />
Of its love<br />
<br />
Never ceases<br />
<br />
To break me<br />
<br />
And I do still<br />
<br />
Want you<br />
<br />
Desperately<br />
<br />
Hopelessly<br />
<br />
And past all time and cure<br />Shahoodehhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01936672279952603375noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1687621135529361025.post-17112641292300166732012-05-05T22:00:00.000-07:002012-05-05T22:03:40.708-07:00Dissillusioned<br />
<br />
<br />
I don't know when<br />
<br />
I don't know how<br />
<br />
God help me<br />
<br />
I dont even know what anymore.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Time is passing me by<br />
<br />
Sand sifting through my fingers. <br />
<br />
Dreams drifting faster than clouds thru a car window<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
The hunger inside me demands<br />
<br />
And its more than my soul can take<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
I sooth her with prayers<br />
<br />
I sooth her with platitudes<br />
<br />
I tuck her in and bury the hope<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Soon<br />
<br />
Tomorrow<br />
<br />
Someday<br />
<br />
Peace<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
The lies i tell<br />
<br />
I smother the screams<br />
<br />
I muffle the sobs<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
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The madness of maybes<br />
<br />
I run towards<br />
<br />
I run from<br />
<br />
Always caught in between<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Tomorrow is a new day<br />
<br />
A new smile, sunshine<br />
<br />
And smothered screams<br />
<br />
Smothered dreams<br />
<br />
Sand burning through my fingers<br />
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And unwritten words choking my throat<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Peace<br />
<br />
Someday<br />
<br />
Tomorrow<br />
<br />
Soon<br />
<br />
Oh the lies i tell myself as I fall asleep<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
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<br />
<br />
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<br />Shahoodehhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01936672279952603375noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1687621135529361025.post-61780883725572156172011-09-13T12:15:00.000-07:002011-09-13T12:16:19.689-07:00Let ThemI'm far too weary to hide<br />Behind well-pressed clothes<br />And careful make-up<br />I'm beyond caring<br />And it has nothing to do<br />With pride<br /><br />Its just common sense<br />And a whole lot of sadness<br /><br />So let them see this face of mine<br />More real than it will ever be<br />The world of misery, the history of regret<br />All mapped out for everyone to see<br /><br />Let them see the baggage under my eyes<br />Because lipstick will never draw on smiles<br />As well as you do.<br /><br />Blush won't add colors to my cheeks<br />Because I've been robbed of everything worthwhile<br /><br />I've been robbed of you<br />I'm staggered, braced for your absence<br />And the yawning gaping darkness within me<br />Swallowing all the best of me<br /><br />And what do I care what anyone thinks?<br />What do I care what they say?<br />Let them conclude their cruel conclusions<br />Let them snicker savagely, speak sadistically<br />With their oppressive opinions<br />Just let them be<br /><br />It was always you I listened to, anyway<br /><br />My bones are too heavy now<br />My spirit is spent and my soul is wrenched<br />But I will mend<br /><br />Just not now<br /><br />Soon<br /><br />But until then<br />I'll lay my head<br />Even more unmasked<br />With all the questions<br />Stark, brutal, that remain unasked<br />Wrapping me in comfortable despairShahoodehhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01936672279952603375noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1687621135529361025.post-319868002323347932011-05-17T04:32:00.000-07:002011-05-17T04:33:08.722-07:00Put not your arms around mePut not your arms around me<br />Pressed up against you,<br />I may not let go<br />Nor would I want to<br />I'm not strong enough<br />Not when its you<br />I sink into so deeply<br />Into the familiar sanctuary<br />In the simplicity of the breaths <br />You take, inhale, exhale, inhale again<br />Real, blessedly real, though you masquerade<br />As a dream, the vision of my haunted mind<br />I become the glass in a window pane<br />Capturing the fog, tracing patterns<br />Upon me into dew drop snow flakes<br /><br />Put not your arms around me<br />You vanish into sunlight<br />Dissipating into the wind<br />Beloved by the elements<br />And I can not follow<br />Consumed by you<br />Wrapped up in you<br />Loud permanent <br />In my thoughts<br />I'm too tempted<br />To sink<br />Drown<br />To be<br /> devoured<br />Forget me<br />Erase me<br />And let <br />The world<br />Be damned<br /><br />Do not seek to hold me<br />The road is long<br />The miles are endless<br />And I must roam farther <br />Than your eyes can see<br />I need to be set free<br />Of all restraints, constraints<br />To go along my own journey<br />One step after another<br />I'll get there in time<br />Though I'm never sure<br />Where "there" exactly is<br />But it calls to me<br />Just as loudly as you do<br />And I'll meander along<br />To the call of destiny<br />To the call of the words<br />I long to grasp, the ones I must write<br />One firm step, then another<br />And in the shivering of the night<br />I'll yearn for the haven of your embrace.Shahoodehhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01936672279952603375noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1687621135529361025.post-70221556485191816032011-05-16T10:39:00.000-07:002011-05-16T10:40:30.748-07:00Too BeautifulYou sigh, heartfelt and weary<br />It's as if life is too heavy for you<br />To contemplate, fragile as you are<br />Like sensual butterfly wings<br /><br />I'm always mesmerized by you<br />Your bluntness, your sweetness<br />The way you roll words around<br />Making them lush and intoxicating<br /><br />You consume me.<br />Waking and sleeping<br />You consume me<br />Like a fire searing my soul<br />Leaving only you<br /><br />Always you<br />And I stagger as words fail me<br />Nothing is ever enough<br /><br />I'm bemused to silence around you<br />Memorizing your every trace<br />All that make you who you are<br />Because you are worth the wait<br />Worth the fight, worth everything!<br /><br />My heart expanded to the very breadth<br />It can encompass with things I long to say<br />And still I stumble as words fail me<br /><br />Mere poetry doesn't do you justice<br />And I, the poet, a hopeless fraud<br />Tongue-tied, clumsy in reverence<br /><br />You are too beautiful for words.Shahoodehhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01936672279952603375noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1687621135529361025.post-30370690328452246142011-05-02T21:54:00.000-07:002011-05-02T21:55:27.460-07:00Faith and friends reunited"There is a reason for everything that comes and goes. So many people are looking to me to be strong and to fight, but I'm just surviving and I may be weak but I'm never defeated and I'll keep believing in clouds with sweet silver lining." Kate Voegele <br /><br /> "Write something to make me smile. Paint something full of butterflies and sunshine" -Noufa<br /><br /><br /> I've never been the kind of girl who believes in fairy tales. Well, I used to when I was younger, but I grew out of it. Prince Charming is a myth and miracles almost never seem to happen to someone like me. I'm more prone to believe in the worst case scenario before I believe in the best. I drown, curled up with my own pessimism. I struggle with my own cynicism. I'm prone to depression. I tend to give up. I tend to panic and be afraid. I'm a normal girl with tons of insecurities, virtues, and faults just like everyone else. <br /> I've grown up sheltered with the kind of parents who believe no dream is beyond our grasp. I grew up on fairy tales and Disney movies. Reality was never cruel until suddenly it was. I didn't know friends betrayed. I didn't know there was hurt and suffering. I didn't know change could be terrifying. I used to be resistant when a friend of mine whacks me on the head with reality because I'm so flighty until eventually I immersed myself in reality. <br /> I've tried to live my life in a way that would make me proud to be the person I am. I want to be better than the person I am. I promise myself every day that I will not let my own demons beat me. I will not give in. I'm lucky enough to have a circle of friends who remind me to shake it off. I'm lucky enough that when I'm the most pessimistic, my friends push optimism upon me. <br />Maybe it’s the writer in me but I write, I articulate, to stop the worst of everything from devouring me. I'm grateful for the gift of writing and I count my blessings every day in the family I have, my amazing sisters, my sweet mini cousins, and the friends I have. . I have always believed in the kindness of strangers, in people's inherent goodness, and in being the best that I could be. I believe in everything happening for a reason, although the reason might elude you. It's a conscience and a constant effort though to remember that there is goodness, there is beauty. There are things to balance out suffering and bitterness. I struggle to have more faith in the world. I struggle to be open and let myself live experiences as they unfold one day at a time and not panic too much about tomorrow. (Even though I secretly do, every day so much that I lie awake at night my mind racing at the thought of things I might never achieve) <br /><br /> Sometimes though, you gather your courage, drown out the naysayers in your head, and you send that message to that special friend you lost touch with. You hold your breath for months and then when life brings sorrow, chaos, and confusion upon you, the reply comes back. It's everything and more than you have ever dreamed. It's like you have lost your glasses for years and then suddenly put them on your nose so you see everything clearly. The colors are more vivid and you feel a thousand times more alive than you have allowed yourself to feel. It's like that feeling when you are a child of being completely safe. You stop being afraid because you know that when your lost, your parents will find you. When you scrape your knee, you know your mom will be there to wipe your tears and patch you up. Only now you have the kind of faith where you completely surrender to God's will, bounty and mercy you know that no matter what there is a reason for everything. When the reason does find you, it brings you closer to God. <br />I don't feel so afraid anymore. My doubts have flown away. I'm staring out at clouds and breathing in the night air. I believe in miracles, I believe in fairy tales, and I believe in Happily ever after. I believe. I believe and I will remember this in my darkest hours to come. I will remember that there is moon light and stars to keep you company. I will remember that there is a safety net and my courage should be greater than my fear. I will dare more. I will fight more. I will strive for better days and a better me, but in the end I will surrender to a greater plan in place than mine.Shahoodehhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01936672279952603375noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1687621135529361025.post-79579896242215252422011-05-01T22:01:00.000-07:002011-05-01T22:03:17.727-07:00Gilded CageI'm not one for a gilded cage<br />Bejeweled bars are still restraints<br />And I'm not one to be kept<br />Going around in circles<br />In the shadow of you<br /><br />I'm not a breed of bird you are used to<br />Clutch me within your fist, I'll suffocate<br />Release me and I'll fly beyond your grasp<br />I'm not meant to be kept, you see<br /><br />I'm not the one who has forever dreamed of you<br />In my fondest imaginings, I have never seen you<br /><br />Maybe you have never seen me either<br />I'm not the demure girl you wish for<br />Who sits quietly waiting for you to come home<br />Who leaves you alone to rage and rumble.<br /><br />No, that's not me.<br /><br />I have opinions, beliefs, hopes, and dreams<br />I speak my mind. I sing my own song<br />I paint my own feathers <br /><br />I'm not one to be need or be needed<br />I can't bear to be let down<br />I hate even worse to be smothered<br /><br />I'm not one for a gilded cage<br />I'm not one to be kept<br /><br />I'm the one you soar next to in the open skies<br />I'm the one you adore with a burning passion<br />Without demands, rules, or chains<br />But you hold me with love, instead<br /><br />Encased, entwined, within your heart<br />And I'm no longer confined, but kept safe.Shahoodehhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01936672279952603375noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1687621135529361025.post-16290614452514265702011-04-25T08:52:00.001-07:002011-04-25T08:52:39.874-07:00Watching your labored breathsWatching your labored breaths,<br />Tiny sighs and sweet yawns<br />Your miniscule digits<br />Wrapped around my finger<br /><br />I can't believe you're finally here<br />I've been waiting for you for so long<br />And I still haven't held you in my arms<br />All I can do is watch you through the glass,<br />And stroke your frail body<br /><br />Baby, please, hold on<br />Your hiccupping heart<br />Stuttering, stumbling<br />Has to beat, has to last<br />You have so much growing to do<br />And I have so much mothering to do<br /><br />All I can do is watch you<br />I'm afraid to close my eyes<br />To close my eyes for a second<br />And wake up to find that you have<br />Dissipated into fragments of that dream<br /><br />I whisper to you<br />I say your name over and over<br />Wrapping it around you like a blanket<br />I tell you stories where love conquers all<br />The Princess rescues the Knight from impending doom<br />I tell you about frolicking fairies and imagine you frolicking, instead<br /><br />You open your tiny eyes<br />And I drawn within their depths<br />I know I'll get to hold you soon<br />Because you, precious fragile, you<br />Remind me to hope.Shahoodehhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01936672279952603375noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1687621135529361025.post-21944608327704238412011-04-21T07:51:00.001-07:002011-04-21T07:51:39.885-07:00Live and Let liveLook for joy, but understand: without death and suffering, our life would not have a meaning -Paulo Coelho<br /><br /><br /> I feel like a brick has been lodged on to my chest. It gets heavier and lighter, but it feels branded upon my chest. I carried it with me at the funeral. I tried to breathe around it before recognizing it for what it is. Greif. Maybe that's why when we're hurting, we instinctively want someone we love to put their arms around us. It's as if pressing that someone against our hearts would staunch the bleeding. Right now, I'm anticipating seeing my younger cousins later. I feel an overwhelming need to lose myself in younger kids' carefree joy and freedom. <br /> I keep thinking about life and how it gets in the way of things. I'm more conscious of that having so many of my friends still in university while I'm past that. You start to become more forgiving of people who promise to keep in touch but do so less and less as days go by. You start to forgive people who talk to you less and less because they have less in common with you. Saying Good morning to someone every day suddenly doesn’t seem as important as it used to. What does matter, instead, is going through life with that love, friendship still intact, so much that you carry it with you. Your heart feels attuned to those friends, like planets circling in the same orbit. Every planet has a path, but their still drawn to one another. When life finally clears away, you slip into that familiarity and friendship gladly as if no time has passed, even though you both maybe at very different stages in your lives. It does matter that no matter how much time has passed you can laugh or cry with that friend. <br /> No one is perfect. We all let resentments and grudges build up without taking the time to air them out and talk them through. We all let them fester until they become putrid and awful. I'm no better. I forgive because in forgiveness you let go of all that gnaws inside you, but God forgive me, sometimes forgiveness is beyond me. I realize that nobody is worth hatred. I can still feel bad for a person who is no longer in my life, without actually wanting them in it. There are also those people who just leave a bad aftertaste so much that you visibly wince whenever their brought up. It's terrible because life is too short not to let go off things that fester, but at the same time we're only human. We all do the best we can. We all struggle to be the best person we can be. We all try to be better than the person we were the day before. We all hope that tomorrow brings more wisdom. We all promise ourselves that we won't let the mistakes of our past seep into our future, but color them in a better way. <br /> My aunt was telling my mother and me about a lecture she heard on the radio where the presenter said that pain is beautiful and that it brings goodness. She urged listeners to think about it because when we feel pain, we all try to find out why. Knowing where the pain is helps narrow down something enough for a doctor to heal it. Why is pain considered such a negative when it can bring about such goodness and healing? There is meaning in everything around us, even the things we care for the least. We should find meaning in death, suffering, and grief. We should rise above our own misery and try to find joy and blessings. <br /> I'm waxing philosophical but I truly don't want to dwell on grief. I want to teach my 2 year old cousin nursery rhymes, sing along, and watch her giggle at hand movements. I want to play Cops and Robbers with the Mini cousins and run along even if I am the eldest cousin. I want to lose myself being alive. Maybe breathing in the scent of shampoo in a child's hair or hearing excited shrieks and laughter will dislodge the brick on my chest. There is life to be lived. I just hope I live it the right way. I hope I live and let live. I hope I forgive more, laugh more, and I hope that peace of mind and happiness finds those I love more than anything in the world.Shahoodehhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01936672279952603375noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1687621135529361025.post-16627744330664470042011-03-19T11:46:00.000-07:002011-03-19T11:47:28.190-07:00HopeThe scent of Jasmine wafts up at me from a nearby mug as I wait for the tea to cool. I keep writing in my notebook and scratching it out with red pen. I reread old scribblings in another notebook. The familiar frustration that has marked my behavior lately rises up to strangle me. I promised myself I'd fill notebooks with my ramblings, and so far my notebooks are all neatly wrapped and depressingly blank. I don't feel as much Joie De vivre as I was feeling during the beginning of the year. I've barely written these past few months and because of it I feel out of balance with myself. It's like when you have an argument with a close friend and while you've made up, there's still tension and discord. All feelings that increase the feelings of Yuck and Bleh that have been going around lately. <br /> For the past few months, all I've been doing is watching the news, struck like everyone else around me with helplessness and horror. We've celebrated the miracle of Egypt rising above the odds and claiming their freedom. We've watched bravery, heroism, at its best. I do believe the very best of humanity has risen to triumph over the darkness around them. Paul Conroy said that Libya doesn't want help. They don't want an invasion, but what they do want are witnesses. We have been witnesses. We have been praying and all our hearts have split to encompass all the pain and suffering that we've seen so far. Right now, in my family we are all grief-stricken and watching Japan on the news. I used to talk about having left my heart in Japan and its still there among the wreckage of Tokyo. I'm praying for the world to go back to normal with the least damage. I'm praying for the kids of Bahrain to be able to safely go back to school. I'm praying for things to be resolved. I'm praying most of all for the UAE to remain safe. <br /> It's strange because around late January I was on a plane to Hong Kong contemplating joy. I remember listening to the comfortable humming of the plane along with the crooning of Ingrid Michealson on my Ipod. I was watching an Asian man strolling up and down the aisle with his baby girl n his arms. She peered over his shoulder and kept opening and closing her mouth in a pout. I was thinking there is joy in this world walking hand in hand with hope. There is joy in a baby's striped pink onesie. There is joy in the simple things in life that we overlook because we are always crying over what's missing. We are always rushing to get ahead of ourselves. We want to prove people wrong. We latch and hide behind causes or religion to seem more happier or more fulfilled, but the rare and lucky few truly are. There is so much more to this world than inflated egos and ignorance. Life is fleeting. Time drips through our fingers like water if we let it. Everything is transient. Maybe, just maybe, with all the tragedy and destruction that surrounds us, we can find hope, belief, celebration, rekindled dreams. Maybe we can find hope in starting anew, and maybe the world with all its different races, cultures, and religions would sit up and realize that we've all been praying and hoping for the same things. Maybe.Shahoodehhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01936672279952603375noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1687621135529361025.post-49521474052640846092011-03-16T05:23:00.001-07:002011-03-16T05:23:56.203-07:00My museAfter all this time, <br />You still reside<br /> Within my thoughts.<br />You live on within me, inside me, <br />In my beating heart,<br />In my heartfelt sighs,<br />But most of all within my lonely tears.<br /><br />I go on without you<br />Sometimes it's more than I can bear<br />But I forget you for awhile<br />I do my best to smile<br />Until you crash back into me<br />You rush through my bloodstream<br />Flow through me and pour on to these pages,<br />Like ink from the most fervent heart's blood. <br /><br />Kindness maybe found in cruelty.<br />Fate can be merciful<br />You are and have been my muse,<br />Not mine, not anymore<br />But as close as it can get<br /><br />You are the errant bittersweet slice of hope that comes with inspiration.<br />In a world, filled with hate and betrayal, you are the promise of love. <br />You are mine, in all the ways that count, and you live on forever<br />In each and everyone of my words.Shahoodehhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01936672279952603375noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1687621135529361025.post-86664846715434643802011-03-15T12:59:00.000-07:002011-03-15T13:00:00.765-07:00Abundant memories<span style="font-style:italic;">These memories of you I carry<br />And while their abundant<br />They are never enough<br /><br />Memories of sorrow and joy<br />Intertwined like my fingers in yours<br />I forget where one sob led into smiles<br />I forget where you and I ended<br /><br />But oh I remember you<br />I remember your frowns<br />And how I coaxed them into laughter<br /><br />I remember your sweetness<br />And in the darkest nights<br />It's all I crave<br /><br />Abundant memories,<br />Countless moments,<br />All have taken their toll on me<br />Yet I'm endlessly burdened <br />Without you here to have and to hold<br /><br />Still, these memories are never enough<br /></span>Shahoodehhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01936672279952603375noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1687621135529361025.post-87069473149066538652011-02-21T11:33:00.000-08:002011-02-21T11:34:44.706-08:00Love Letter to the Words<span style="font-style:italic;">Inspired by The Last letter from your lover by Jojo Moyes. It got me into the mood for love letters...</span><br /><br />........<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Dear Words.<br /><br /> I've heard your calls. I've heard you sing to me. I've heard you begging me to put you down on paper. It's not that I haven't been listening. It's not that I haven't longed for you every minute of everyday. I was absolutely desolate without you close to me. You know better than anyone that I can't breathe when you are gone. God knows how I managed all this time with the shallowest of breaths. All I've been doing is distracting my self from missing you. <br /> When I take you into my heart, when I embrace you with all I have, I feel more than I'm capable of taking in. Maybe I've loved this feeling of being an empty glass. I reveled in being empty of you and most especially empty of those feelings. I've tried to appease you with half-hearted scribblings, but they've offered me little comfort and only served to plague me with my failings. I just get so tired of bleeding. I get so tired of plunging my sharpest pen into the depths of my heart because you won't settle for any less. I have to carve my way deep into the marrow of my bones. I have to soak pages in tears and blood. Most times I'm not strong enough. They say feeling too much is how you know you're alive, but sometimes, just sometimes I can't take the battering life throws at me. Sometimes being comfortably numb is all I can handle. <br />That's the honest truth. You've called. You've sang. You've caressed my arms up and down trying to get my attention. I pretended to be too busy. I pretended to be distracted. All I've been was afraid of the feelings you would inevitably awaken in me. I was afraid you'd make me feel too alive, too open, and I end up feeling the exquisite pain you love to exploit. <br /> <br /> Dear Words, he smiled at me. You know the one with sorrowful eyes brimming with all the gentleness in the world like cinnamon and nutmeg stirred into the sweetest caramel latte. It was worse than all the terrible things even you do to me. I was completely unraveled, stripped bare of my indifference. Haven't I told you over and over that I don't miss him anymore? Haven't I promised you I wouldn't cry anymore? He smiled at me and I wanted his embrace more than yours. Maybe I love him even more than I love the words. I can't believe I love him more than you, but I truly do. Because in that moment, I wanted it all back. I wanted his Good Mornings, His good nights, and all the things in between. More than anything in the world, I wanted his I love you's if only for a little while.Shahoodehhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01936672279952603375noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1687621135529361025.post-34916536891511584392010-12-28T12:14:00.000-08:002010-12-28T12:16:09.359-08:00New Year Countdown and Joie De VivreThe count down for the start of the New Year is beginning. It's only a few days away and I'm in a constant jittery state of anticipation. Eva was complaining about the hype that comes along with the New Year this morning. It's just another .Why wait for a New Year to do the things that you plan to do? <br /> I guess for me at least another year has a sense of monumental hope. It’s like a brand new notebook and you can gladly throw away last year's notebook. There's a sense of finality in saying good bye to the old year. As if you can burn it, along with the ashes of bitterness, depression, hurt, and heart break. I clutch my own list of New Year Resolution's to me possessively both mentally and physically. When I'm frustrated, I visualize that list with its vague almost abstract desires and run through them. I know what they mean. I know what I wish for. I know what I want to achieve. I just have to get there, so I take a deep breath, paste a smile, and exude the bubbly charm that I know I'm capable of. As if the person frustrating me were a pack of pins I could bowl over with a smile and carefully chosen words. There's a state of barely contained exuberance inside me, a Joie de Vivre, very much like a bubble that expands as I try to contain it within me. I'm struggling to keep my heart full of it and to hold on to that feeling for as long as I can.<br /> Today while walking past the fridges at Union Coop that kept the Ornamin C and Red Bull, the gust of air conditioned wind brushed against me. I had a sudden memory of my grandfather sitting down next to me during lunch time and his gnarled tanned hands squeezing a mango on rice. I remembered how he dyed his beard on a little table and chair by the porch. I remembered the way his grizzly goatee scratched my cheek as he kissed me with a chuckle. I remembered how he always smelled of tobacco and how he sprayed Romance perfume. There was a sense of peace just sitting next to him early in the morning, feeling a slight chill in the air while a rooster crowed in the distance. The other day in Yoga class as the class was ending; there was this moment in the dark studio. The sunlight poured through the window. It warmed my arms. It dazzled my eyes so I closed them and in the distance I heard a rooster crow and it just took me back to that place of safety and peace. <br /> There were no explosions, no New Year's Eve miracles, at least not yet. There was just me focusing on my breath and extremely aware of my body aching in protest at the Yoga poses I put it through after hibernating for so long. I was alive and grateful, simply to exist within my own skin. To hear my heart beat slowing down after pounding in my ears a few minutes ago. I felt a rush of love coursing through me for the world around me and the abundance within it. <br /> I felt that rush again in belly dancing class. None of us knew the steps. All of us struggled to catch up with our beautiful willowy teacher and the easy way with which she moved her hips. All of us felt gawky and clumsy as we stumbled to the steps. I caught sight of myself in the mirror, scowling, because I kept missing the beats. I ended up grinning as I saw the girls behind me all with similar expressions of dismay and insecurity. There was that rush of love and forgiveness again for myself, for the girls, and most of all a sense of camaderie. What's wrong with looking foolish if we're having fun? What's wrong with looking foolish if there is joy to be had? If you feel your teacher is passionate and you can feel her joy in every little step, why shouldn't you smile in return? I ended up twirling, skipping, and just for a moment I almost felt like I knew what I was doing. But that's okay too, tomorrow is another day with another challenge. <br /> As I count down the days left till the turn of a New Year, I also count my blessings. I'm grateful for so many things in my life. I'm grateful for my family and my talented eloquent hilariously funny siblings. I'm grateful for my cousins who rock my world with their sweetness. I'm grateful for my friends because at this point in time I can honestly say that the friends in my life are worth having and I am richer in heart and spirit because of them. I love the friends who see through my defenses with gentle and careful intuition. I love the friends who make me laugh harder than I can imagine myself capable of laughing. I love the friends who spend hours analyzing behaviors of people with me and coming with hilariously accurate conclusions. I love friends I have so much in common with wether it’s a love of books, languages, or foreign movies. <br /> I'm eternally grateful w el7emdellah Rab el 3alemeeen first and foremost that I have words to express myself with and enough self reflection to understand myself and my loved ones. I read this quote today "Knowing others is wisdom, knowing yourself is enlightenment." I sincerely believe that a person with no self reflection whatsoever ends up distorting whatever they apply themselves to and never make progress. People are not what they say, but what they do. I sincerely hope this New Year brings a change. I'm not going to say what kind of person I am. I'm going to be that person and let actions speak louder than words. I want to be better than I was yesterday and I want the person I am tomorrow to be better than the one she is today. We've all been given a brand new day, and a brand new year, old stories have no place in them. There is only place for new stories, new hopes, new dreams, new challenges, and a newer me.Shahoodehhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01936672279952603375noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1687621135529361025.post-43608060350995256962010-12-12T20:53:00.001-08:002010-12-12T20:53:55.378-08:00The Night is Endless<span style="font-style:italic;">The night is endless<br />And my loneliness,<br />Hard as it is to believe<br />Is greater still…<br /><br />The stars witness my tears<br />Hot against my cheeks<br />The breeze blows<br />And I no longer wait for you<br /><br />I haven't in awhile.<br />I don't miss you anymore<br />And how freeing the thought!<br />How terrifying!<br /><br />If not you, who do I hang my fantasies upon?<br />Whose ghost will lace my words?<br />Who do I ache for, if not you?<br /><br /><br />And yet the night sky is vast<br />The stillness is sweet<br />And my soul has let you go.<br /><br />This heart of mine<br />All sorts of battered<br />A little shattered in the corners<br />Is finally empty of you…<br /><br />I no longer need your 'good mornings'<br />Your 'good nights', or even your 'I love you's'<br />Take them with you and be on your way<br /><br />You've been my one true blessing<br />You've been beloved as have I<br />But no longer and it's no longer you or anyone.<br /><br />It's just me<br />Instead of your embrace,<br />I'm wrapped in loneliness<br />And it's comfortably fine.<br /><br />I don't have tears left for you<br />Instead I'll cry for me<br />And it's long over due.<br /><br />Maybe you didn't know this<br />But I'm worth crying for.</span>Shahoodehhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01936672279952603375noreply@blogger.com2