Baring wind of night.
hissed through hopeless branches ,
where I ?
Stand still .
a voice hushed from a far !
reaching my hand
an attempt to embrace
disappointment crashed so fast
nothing there to grasp …
opening my eyes , pen still captive.
Pages shamelessly white .
Hello readers the coming lines might sound contradicting it’s self but believe me it’s related even if it’s a thin thread i found my self mumbling after coming across a quote for Elenor Roosvelt which took me back in time i thought i could share it so feel free to speak your mind after all that’s what we hear fore sharing and learning from each other.
‘The future belongs to those who believe in the beauty of their dreams’
I don’t know about that Elenor as i see it in this century dreams are so dear for this generation. We dream and try to make them true but yet it’s like writing on water I have been thinking whats wrong with us why our ambitions so crippled although we feel them high and as big as the universe , is it our way of excluding thing or dealing with matters are we not strong enough? Or talented enough , even with good planning bad things will happen then we’re back to square one
I don’t want to sound depressing but seriously didn’t you guys just wondered has the equation of success change over the years
We read this development books how to be successful , how to unleash your inner genius , how to enhance your brain power , how to think positive) a lots of how’s and according to the rhythm of life and challenges we can’t go over all of them just to find that magical statement the one that will hold all the answers to our poor frustrated wills .
Then what are we to do ? set aside and simply do not dream just go with the flow .I don’t think so , you see humans are competitive by nature we like to clime walls and dig holes and carry rocks since we were young not because we don’t have other things to do or just being found of hard work , but because we are designed to seek and reach our goals so adreaming is within us naturally even for those who think they don’t . the old generation was born in a better time for dreams ,why ? in my opinion because the world was just awakening industry , sciences, discoveries , trade , there was new shores ideas were like butterflies the resources are there all they need is use them yes they had to work hard to succeed but the competition was not as fierce as now a days the resources are not as easy to get .
Now someone might think I’m delivering lame excuses to the lazy ones , honestly I’m not it’s just true, 20 years ago we didn’t have anything but my mom has this dream to have a perfume shop we started by selling beverages near one of the fancy shops back then after one year we had two perfume shops, it was not easy but it was not impossible . but now in this time no way it could happen , the rules of the game has changed dreams take longer to become true that’s our real problem we have technology , but we don’t have the power which is money, and time is our enemy we are hassling to grab the hem of those dreams then we trip , we compare ourselves to others and that’s wrong we are not suppose to compare instead we should notice be alert to our surroundings not out of paranoia but out of intelligence .Coping is a failure but comprehending and extracting the nectar of others experience and adjust or add to it so it can be useful along the way , we should have our own bag of seeds so the tree will be ours
I will end this piece by a saying” Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things that you didn’t do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover.”
― H. Jackson Brown Jr.
So dream on don’t feel intimidated of it ,it’s just the right thing you can’t make a dresses or build a house without the sketches . Now finding one might be a bit difficult at some point or you could hit dead ends but at that very dead end there must be a tiny window that you can squeeze through to get to the other end and proceed from there .
In my life I have been through a lots of confronts that’s what I like to call them other than ‘Bad Experiences ‘ those confronts put me face to face with my fears or disappointments but yet made my bones stronger so it won’t get broken easily I just had to look at them as stimulators and I sure learned three important things .
- no wallowing in self pity
- never say I can’t
- ‘ what’s the worst that could happen ‘
This statement I found in a book ,believe it or not it did open my eyes I did ask myself what’s the worst that could happen if I try just try no big expectations . trust me when I say you will be amazed of the outcome .
Here I am after 4 years from the moment I asked myself that question and i’m grateful I did . I might not have achieved all my goals but I managed to reach some and I’m going for the rest , tough journey ? yes, but it’s worth it the feeling that you get out of reaching and grabbing what you have planted is an absolute glory . so dream on people grab that glory .
Come to me
Am I not your home ?!
Am I not your comfort ?!
Am I not your beloved ?!
Come to me.
like spring caresses earth
Caress my longing soul.
I’v been waiting for ages.
Such a torment wait is !
They say one plus one is two
But us !
divide we shell not endure
So come right one
Compleat this half living one.
Revive this weathering being
Every time it rains I feel so sad.
Roses used to make me smile.
Sun used to give me hope.
Night was my favorite stage.
All prisoned dreams come true.
How real you become.
I can dive into your ravishing scent
And peacefully vanish
Oh dearest one
Come to me
Belong to me
Today I’m posting a poem I wrote a while ago it holds a special spot in my heart I hope you’ll enjoy it .
I run to dreams
Hopeful to fined another beauty.
Another shore to embrace my ship.
Hence all shores nothing but a lie.
All homes are a lie.
Even my self just I’m just a lie .
Lie ,those moronic smiles
While orbs drown in tears
Lie, those picnics
In gardens filled with Cigarette butts
Lie,those baffled verses.
Lie, those rock stuffed Cushions
Lie, those haunted nights with nightmares and graveyards odor.
How do we plant roses
Upon stones ?!
How Tranquility walk the unknown distances.
Lie , those blindish steps to no where
Lie , that spray of perfume
We’ve miserably squeezed
Out of a Chrysanthemum solitary soul
She walks in beauty like the night
Passing backs like.door steps
ever so mighty , ever so great
She roams under darkness cloak
tell morning strikes , magic desolves.
fear comes back in full forces
A shaky figure slumps on walls.
Or even crawls .
She hates the light
It steals her powers
She hates the light it burns her mask
She hates the night
It covers her naked feeble soul
she can’t get out of this hole.
neither night nor day had served her justice
Torn like a strand between two bulls
can’t go on any longer
No more magical crowns,or majestic walks.
Just curl hear embrace this cocon
Maybe shell break through in one after noon .
We draw those words out of the closet , dusty , rusty , or torn
We lay them on lines , dark , light, passionate or sad.
We just have an urge to be heard
Sometimes we relate to each other Other times we get lost in translation
And the real meaning remain hidden in the cooker pot
Dose it matter what form , technique , style we use
still language a way of universal communication
Words are swards we may say
Words like water like air to that un seen muse
Birds sing for the joy of singing
Man speak to state a stand , hit Virgin shores of thoughts. Or bond
We draw those words out of the closet it might be under, above sized ,
It might be contemporary or stone age
Words born with man , grew with man gracefully they live beyond. Man
By Zara H. Mosa , © 2013, All rights reserved.
When I was young I had this urge to write , just simple words I wrote my first story when I was in intermediate level I named it ” The Last Breath ” , It was very easy to write I had my main idea so a built all the story a round it and I won the contest it was the brightest moment in my life . And I knew me and my pen will be best friends .
As I grew up poetry become a passion I really love short poems i enjoy scattering my feelings on paper I wasn’t good with techniques but I wrote from my heart and that all i need in my opinion a good poem is that one which reaches the reader don’t get me wrong techniques and styles are important but originality is a must to have factor . So writing become a daily mission , and sometimes an escape path . I developed a lot not as much as i wish but still happy how far I came . For those people out there who thinks their words ain’t worth it don’t degree your work writing is a gift share it with someone you trust then share it with the world it’s the voice if humanity each time you craft a line you record a history and history deserve to be told .