An Ode: (Im)Perfect Drawer

An Ode: (Im)Perfect Drawer

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Is that your drawer? they exclaimed-
       And mocked your magnificence, upon first gaze;
               To wrap you up in my arms, I yearned;
And whisper, dear drawer you’re perfect to me.

It’s alright my lady, do not fret;
          I’m made from thick oak, I can handle it;
                 The pleasure I get from the warmth of your clothes-
And treasure you keep in me, make me pleased.

An odd little drawer you are, really;
        Two odd creations, no wonder we fit;
                   Your imperfect borders are what attracted me-
Imperfectly perfect and worth every penny!


I know writing201 poetry is sadly over and  I am a bit late in a few assignments. It’s about time I finish what I start  and so, here is assignment 8: write a poem using the prompt “Drawer” in the style of an “ode” using the poetic device- apostrophe. Oh, and the real drawer is indeed ugly 😀

Prose: The Missing Link

Prose: The Missing Link

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In the words of the humans she tried to speak, the words of the world misguided as it is. She strived to fit into the shell made for her- but she stumbled constantly at the edge of it. The world of man is a confused place, she thinks- men wave with their fingers but curse through the lips. The land of man was no place for her- just buildings and structures, that ate up earth’s vast.
And on she went, in search of new lands. Where words little impacted the language of the heart. She stumbled upon a land filled with clay- tall trees with branches near the top of it, guarding the short trees from earth’s harsh winds. An oasis with roses encircling it, had butterflies in colors perching at their leaves. She gazed at the beauty of all that she’d seen- and though words weren’t needed, still she felt at peace. Something was missing a voice spoke within.
Out stretching her arms to the water beneath- she felt a cold thrill up her spine and she shivered. A rhythm emerged and at tip of her fingers, a dance ensued as they sift through the water. She felt for the roses and ooh a surprise- the lusciousness not like the oasis she felt. The soft gentle petal held between her metacarpals- and her sense of touch once more ignited a spark. The missing link between words and the heart- she discovered via the touch of the hand.


Image Credit. This is a response to Writing201: Poetry assignment 7. Wrote a poem in the style of a “Prose” using the prompt “Fingers” and the device “Assonance”. I don’t really know much about prose poetry so I hope this passes for it 😀

Oh Father-

Oh Father-

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A story that she never told;
A burden she roamed with for long;
The yells and the screams,
The screeching of boxes,
A little girl- left what was “home”.

A story that she never told;
Of a young man who drunk himself stone cold;
With a little girl the brute that she bore;
Like a tornado, spiraling-
He always came attacking-
Till he passed out exhausted for words.

But oh father, the past is now gone
If I could turn back the time-
I’m not sure I would leave you-
I would try to restore what you had;
But a 12 year old knows only so much,
I’m sorry I let you destroy your life.

A story that she never told;
Was the reason she cried herself to sleep,
Every night till the sound of the crows;
And they thought she was ill-
And prescribed loads of pills-
But she was just reminiscing her home;
At a time it was filled with,
Voices sounding cheery,
And a father- a hero he was.

A story that she never told;
Unravels itself after a decade of running,
As a letter addressed to her from-
A drunkard who’s passed on,
With a letter in hand meant for,
A little girl who long left her home.
On his way to a meeting,
Getting rid of alcoholism,
He met his end- hit by a truck.

A little girl who long left her home
Smiles at the thought of-
her father getting clean-

For the love of the daughter he had;
And though he’s now gone,
To the place up above,
She forgives him and hopes he’s at peace.
The little girl never could let him go.


image credit. This post is in response to Writing201 poetry assignment: write a poem the form of a ballad using anaphora/ epistrophe as a device. This is also a (sort of) part two to a poem I wrote a long time ago, For The love of a daughter.

Acrostic: Butterfly

Acrostic: Butterfly

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Break away- oh little one,
Unto the sky, to see the world;
Taste the pollens on rose buds,
Trust in your wings, to take you there;
Embrace the beauty you’ve become,
Rock your wings, unto safe haven;
Follow the path less taken, 
Lest you be caught- in a web of sly;
You trust in your wings, you’ll make it.


In response to Writing201 Poetry assignment 3. The prompt is “Truth” written in the form of an “Acrostic” with an internal rhyme.

Limerick: Once Upon a Journey

Limerick: Once Upon a Journey

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I journeyed towards the top of a hill,
And met a Man tilted at its brink;
He looked distraught,
He stood, head first-
I stumbled upon a man looking for peace.

I once journeyed towards a man in need-
Of a wanderer to talk to, a soul to speak;
Till the sun arose,
We exchanged tales of old;
A wanderer and stranger once met at a hill.


Writing201 Assignment 2: Write a “Limerick” which is a poetic style consisting of 5 lines in a-a-b-b-a scheme using the prompt, “Journey”.   IMAGE CREDIT

Interview: Living with Depression and beating the odds

Interview: Living with Depression and beating the odds

This week, I had the chance to interview someone whose courage and strength I admire. This person has been suffering from depression, self-harm and is a multiple suicide attempt survivor. Yet, despite this illness, she has managed to take charge of her life, thrive and is now in her third year of medical school. Being born in Saudi and suffering from a mental illness, she shows that this illness isn’t only restricted to the west, it can happen to anyone regardless of religion or race. She prefers to stay anonymous and I respect her wishes so I’m not going to mention any names. But it was a pleasure interviewing her and I do hope this interview sheds some light on self harm and depression; and shows that you can survive and live your life despite the odds.

Tell me a bit about yourself
I am 22 turning 23 next March. I was born and raised in the kingdom of Saudi Arabia (KSA). Then I moved to Malaysia when I was seventeen for university. My brother was already there a year before me. I moved in with him and my cousin. I lived in Malaysia for three years; switched between electrical engineering and architecture throughout the three years. From there, I moved here to Sudan.

Wow, didn’t like the courses anymore?
Well, I couldn’t find myself in electronics engineering and I like to draw, so I thought I’d find myself in architecture and it wouldn’t be such a drastic change. But my dad had me change back (to engineering). I couldn’t get myself to go on with the courses so eventually, I got to transfer back to architecture.

Did your dad know you switched back to architecture?
Yeah my mum told him. At first he did mind, but there was nothing he could do really. Plus, it was my choice to make.

Yeah it is. Did you know a lot about mental health growing up?
My knowledge was of course limited and of course it still is, but I’ve always been greatly interested in that topic.

How old were you when you got diagnosed?
I was seventeen years and I was diagnosed with depression.

How did you find out?
Well, I’ve been depressed since my early teens but I never really knew what was wrong with me. And when I moved to Malaysia, it only got worse. I started self-harming and became extremely suicidal. I was very hesitant about seeing a doctor cause I was scared of my family’s reaction and how I was gonna be perceived. But a very close friend that I knew through twitter, who was (also) the only one who knew what was going on, managed to convince me to see a psychiatrist.

But how did you manage to hide the self-harm scars from people?
At first, I used to cut my legs only. When I started cutting my arms, I would do it in areas that weren’t noticeable. But after a bad incident, I had to start wearing long sleeves everywhere even at home which raised many questions from my brother and my cousin. But I always had a good answer ready.

What do you think is the relationship between depression and self harm? I mean, a lot of depressed people self harm, from your experience, why do you think it’s that?
Self harm is a way of coping with depression, or at least, it was for me. People that are depressed experience many emotions like emptiness, sadness, numbness and self hate. Expressing those emotions can be very difficult. And for some people, self mutilation is the only way they know how to do so. Read more