Monday 26 May 2008

Blood...Tears...Joy

Blessed are we, who naturally bleed,
the sun and the moon, mock all my need.
Searing rage, I live only for pain,
Hidden so deep and dark in my veins.
I saw it down, deep in your eyes,
the dawn is over, no more of your lies.
I feed off of you, live off your pride,
just like a leech along for the ride.
The wind it howls, screaming my name,
when it just whispers, it drives me insane.
I hear the souls suffer, I hear them die,
Resigned with remorse, I look to the sky
No more dreams, only seasons of strife,
please no more, I don't want this damned life.
I beg of you, can you not see,
cleanse me, annoint me, let me be free.

My Friend

What stays unspoken speaks in magnitudes,
Their thoughts articulated can attest,
And so despite our separate attitudes,
I must articulate what thoughts speak best:
We compliment each other more than most,
As if you are the print and I the page,
You are the one that speaks and I the host,
My timid silence fills the words you wage.
Though doubtless evidence proves interest,
I cannot muster words to bring an end,
With all conviction prove these thoughts exist,
To end my silence and name you my friend.
But nothing can or will be heard or said,
Until aloud this poem has been read.

Fragile.....Easily Broken

Fragile
All the pain
Seeping through
The walls
Barriers
Holding everything
Back
Pouring forth in
Echoes of fear
Frustration
Piercing of the heart
Pulling at
The memories
Sole anger
Deafening screams
Silent
Choked by
Music of the moment
Build it up
To watch it fall
Watch it crumble
Now only shattered
Dreams
Fragile
Tear-stained face
Look past the glass
Peering through the
Reflection
The mist
Sinking
Deep down under
A sharp reminder
A pull of reality
A jerk of the hand
Of the heart
Calling for a love
Never
To be found
A fragile heart
Beating in the dark

Tuesday 20 May 2008

Identity...Do You Know Who You Truly Are?

First of all i want to say Good Luck to all those doing exams, this can be a stressful time for all.

It really has been a long time since i "blogged". Well i was just sitting here reading my birthday cards wen it hit me....I hadnt gotten a single card from anyone in my family. As I sat there thinking of the many reasons, I came across the fact that saudis dont "celebrate" birthdays. Now i am not saying this is true and i am not saying its not true but its just something which has always interested me. I have been to countless birthday parties in Saudi and no one has said anything about it being "7aram". As soon as u step out of Saudi its as if ur in another world.

So as I carried on to ponder, something told me to open up my mums old box. I dont know wat it was but i just got up and started to read her diary again. She wrote so many things about being a kid. She died at the age of 18, leaving me at a couple hours old. I am now 18 and start to wonder where I am trully from. Sure I wear the hijab and the abaya in a very ignorant british environment but is it possible to be more "Saudi"???? I cook the food, I wear the clothes...I even listen to the music. I dont do it because I have to but the fact that I love doing it. The food tastes great and the clothes r colourful. Always attracting attention from my western friends.

I guess what I am trying to figure out is if I can be more Saudi. I constantly bug my cousins and aunties to tell me about their lives back in Saudi. There is so much you can get from a diary.
Anyway...Heres a poem to you mama. Allah yar7ama

Allow the identity
to slip from your tongue,
and find resolution
in hearing your name
But intimacy lies
where fear comes undone
And losing seems inevitable
at the end of the game