Rejection Sucks!Here is how.

Her eyes, 
like an ocean of innocence,
hypnotized me.

Her face,
with an unparalleled beauty,
mesmerized me.”

“Her voice was sweeter than honey, and edged a nightingale.

She inspired me to live my life.

She taught me to think
about love, life, and everything
in between

Her actions,
her emotions,
her flick of hair.

She always lived in my heart

But soon, I came to reality,
to senses.

For I was a nobody, and she – the princess of beauty,
who, I knew was the best for me,
but was worthy of someone better than me.

So I took a step back,
my heart aching.
Another step, and
my heart pounded heavily.

I turned away,
killed my heart, and
lived heartlessly.

Poem title: Quattuor. By Bruised Melodies

This poem talks about A man’s admiration for someone he couldn’t have and therefore lost himself in the process.

From the start he is full of praises and adoration for his love interest. Emphasising on the positive outlook he used to have towards life beacause of his love for her.

Upon realising she deserves better from life, love, and relationship, he started to change into a bitter, cold and cruel person life the total opposite of his previous life of kindness.

What do you think of this simple and meaningful poem.

How do some people handle rejection? Why do people seek for that which they can’t have and still end up disappointed when the reality smacks them on the cheek?

What keeps them going after this reality or who do they eventually become.

Do they become good or bad? Do they appreciate the lesson or do they regret what they did?

Share your opinion in the comments below.

Thanks and I hope you enjoyed the poem.

Feminst Rant? Yes But Remind Your daughters.

So basically, I have read about some feelings about equality and I am going to share a few about some of them.

Feminism: the advocacy of women’s right on the ground of equality of the sexes.

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Ok. Girls don’nt wear make up to impress people.

Let’s go over the rules.

You are not a feminist if you slut shame

You are not a feminist if you make fun of mental illness or claim they are not real.

You are not a feminist if you are a racist.

You are not a feminist if you are against men.

….selected From the book titled: “Feminist Rant”.

***If you have some rants about feminism. Share on the comment section.

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This is for the girls . This is A Nikita Gill quote.

Titled. TELL YOUR DAUGHTERS

“Tell your daughters how you love your body.

Tell them how they must love their’s.

Tell them to be proud of every bit of themselves. From their trigger trips to the soft flesh of their thighs.

Whether there is a little of them or a lot.

Whether freckles cover their face or not.

Whether their curves are plentiful or slim.

Whether their hair is thick, curly, straight , long or short.

Tell them how they inherited their ancestors’ souls in their smiles. That their eyes carry countries that breathed life into history.

That the swing of their hips do not determine their destiny…”

Nikita gill.

This quote is accurate.

Let’s remind our  daughters  to chill ,

feel, explore and understand  how much intricacy rest within them. 

Let’s Tell  them  how much time  they can spend just admiring their true nature in astonishment

A lot of time sending gifts  of  gratitude  to  God for creating such blossoming human being.

A lot of time staying and  breathing positive.

#HappyinternationalWomen’s day!

Poems of a Jamaican Girl.

https://pin.it/8N6kRgA

I can leave you

I swear

With Scalpel to my soul

The difference

between us and you

Leaves me as a whole

So Mask to face

And Fragrant Sevo

I’ll go under

Four , three, two…

Wether I wake

Or kiss turns blue

I’ll recover

Free from you

By Praiziz

Ambassadors of Poverty

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Ambassadors of poverty are                    The corrupt masters of the economy   With their head abroad                                   And anus at home                                      Patriots in reverse order            Determined merchants of loot            Who boost the economy of the colonial order                                                                  To impoverish brothers and sisters at home

Ambassadors of poverty are the ‘saviors’ of the people                                              Office loafers in the guise of workers. Barons of incompetence                        With kleptomaniac fingers                      And suckling filaments                                   Position occupants and enemies of service                                                                    Locked in corrosive war of corruption       With their people’s treasury                          And killing their future

By  Philip Udeh. 

Where are you?

WHERE ARE YOU?

In real life,

everyone is social.

loves going out,

has a lot of friends,

Can’t stop talking,

Cool

Fashionable.

 then you go online

and read blogs.

Suddenly everyone is shy,

Quiet

Introverted,

nerdy,

loves reading

Where are those people in real life?

#New Voice

Subconscious 

An Alarm clock

that could never be stopped

It goes off every  few minutes

So loud, 

So disturbing, 

Creating a cacophony

of ugly sounds.

Get a hammer.

Use it to smash the clock,

but nothing can break it;

Its too strong,                                               too powerful

Try to carry it                                                    and throw it out the window,                         but its too heavy.                                              remove the batteries?                                    It has no batteries.                                           It doesn’t need batteries.

        #Newvoice      

     

Poemspeak

Haunted

“How silly you are. Do you think that knowing the truth will help you get closure? Do you think that you will learn a valuable lesson and move in with your life? Oh dear no. Somethings are better left as a mystery piece. I warned you, remember? I kept locking all those secrets away to prevent any further damage, but no your curiosity wouldn’t let you go. So how dare you come to me telling me how you are chased by scary monsters when you fall asleep. You asked for this, now take responsibility for you decisions.”

#TheNewVoice.

Poemspeak

it’s so frustrating

when i ask a question

and receive the answer

to a completely different question.

be precise.

What colour is it?

Colours are interesting; some are dull.

some are bright.

but what colour is it?

colours bring life to the  canvas

BUT WHAT COLOUR IS IT?

I love colours

sigh.

By The New Voice

Poem Speak

 You are the wounded cat

walked with pains 

in the  heartbeat of a lion

You are truly a strong  misty  cologne 

Burning your  love 

in spicy humane care.  For you, see- my heart pray

with a rhythm of

Faith stronger than Rocks.  Oh!  I know not

If peace will find my soul

If  I and my hands fail

 to respray you bits

from the love you’ve spread  in your bleeding edge  Yet,

Would I know?  If Aspirin is a healer

Or heals The distance between

We- as it is as though,

Such a gap between

 a fan and a follower  a living and a dead

I’m blind,  I can’t see

If it is my sob for you,

Or my   prayer for you

That may wild stronger 

Wings to fly  

                  

Published
Categorized as poetry Tagged

POEM

​The mind is an air.

A traveller

Spreading and stopping

At every junction.  

                         Sometimes it runs in flashes

Back.  N forth like speed of light

It waves such that you can’t see what your mind is thinking, you can only hear it. Perhaps listen to it.

You can’t tell what direction the air goes. You can’t control it. You can’t control your mind. You can only stop a your self from acting upon what your the other part of your mind doesn’t want. Beacause the mind is in spaces and parts. 

 You can bring back your memories but you can’t bring back your mind. When it moves to a thought, in miliseconds, you want to stop it from thinking towards that certain direction. But the truth is the deed has been done- the thought had been thought.  You can never earase. It will reechoe, it will flash back sooner or later

Mind is so – thinks in  multiplex network raging from moment to moment.

Moment 1 :  you’re that person the world is looking for
Moment 2: you want to let go of everything and be in love with life, people, animals, breath, air, rivers, glasses, colours, stones, shadows, roses, rays, recipes furniture, art, give love even when its not returned.

Moment 3: space is now all you need.

Because you have loved too much life and too much people.

One thing is all you need:you. Your own space to be free. As if being free is the only way out of thinking.

 But you know, you thought wrong.Space made you think more…Your mind went even deeper. Telling your head”Trust no one”So you didn’t.

Moment 4: you become hopeless. All the believe you had in yourself seem to have vainished. You start feeling you need someone who would love you. Because you have loved a lot. Love made you trust. You’ve trusted so much, now you needthought of what to say.

Moment 5: you are now able to see past what you have previously thought. You are now able to know how to detatch that horibble thing you couldn’t really control thinking about  from what you will rather be happy thinking. 

The 4 moments of thought are just air they keep coming. You have nothing to do about it. You can only hear or listen.If you don’t, you only struggle to bottle up your thoughts. Like bottling up air. Is it possible? No. It I’ll explode.

 The mind is an air.

        PoetriHadizat