Your eyes danced and read to me encyclopedias of emotions as you engulfed me in your elegies. Do not tell me you have nothing to say because, my dear, your eyes tell me more than your lips ever will.

The Spoken Word Endeavor

"No, no, no...absolutely not." I stammered. "Are you crazy? I have stage fright I--"
"Shut up, Hana! Just do it, it won't be bad."
"The piece though, it's not perfect. Graduation is in 3 days!"

This was the beginning of a journey I never thought I'd be taking.

It all started when I was in DC in an arabic intensive program. My friend said, "Hey, have you heard of this guy named Luka Lesson?" I said no, and she showed me this beautiful video right here. Stunning performance! After that, I kept searching for different spoken word performances from different people. I found another girl who did a poem about Syria, and that one was crazy powerful too.

The next day, I got the inspiration to try one myself. It came from the idea that people are always singling me out because I talk different than they do... or something along those lines. So I wrote a piece about writing, about the process of the expulsion of words. The days where you awake in the middle of the night in cold sweat with an idea that suddenly struck you. Writing isn't just picking up a pencil and scrawling on a sheet of paper, writing is a maelstrom in the mind, a maelstrom of letters and phrases, of events remembered, figments of alliterations. I wrote this piece and performed it in front of the mirror. I then showed it to some of my friends, and they said I should perform it for the program's graduation in 3 days.

Absolutely not. I have stage fright. I hate speaking in public. Okay?

They kept pushing me though, encouraging me. I mean it's only going to be like fifty people, about forty of my classmates and a few teachers...so I finally agreed and called the program manager who fit me in. I spent the time trying to memorize the poem, but to no avail. Great. Just great. It was okay though, I read it enough to be able to look up a lot. Which was good enough.

Well as it turns out, a little bit more than fifty people were showing up...make that a little over a hundred. Yeah, I was going to faint. People helped me relax, encouraging me, telling me how to breathe...heh. Yeah, I was really scared. My hands were tingling and twitching, moving on their own accord. Basically, fear possessed my arms, making it very hard to move them, either my movements were too jerky or they wouldn't move.
The production manager came and sat next to me, and after a moment, whispered, "You nervous?"
"That obvious?" I whispered back, looking down at my hands.
"Nah, you'll be fine. Tingly hands?"
"Yeah..how'd you know?"
He shrugged, "It's common. Just don't worry about it, no one's gonna notice."
I nodded and looked ahead, waiting for my cue. When it came, he wished me good luck and I went and stood in front of the podium. The mike swam before my eyes as I tried to adjust it. After some complications, I started talking about the poem a bit, introducing it. Then I went for it. I struggled here and there because I could feel at least two hundred eyes staring at me. Then I forgot about the audience and I got into the poem. I felt the same thrill I did when I said it the first time in front of the mirror. It was exhilarating.

This was probably one of the most exciting things I've ever done! I really would like to do more, there's a certain thrill to performing your work in front of an audience.

Tears

Ever notice
That the tears throughout the years
Take on a whole new meaning
A deeper connection from your muddle of thoughts

As you grow older your heart hardens
Crystallizes and crusts over the feelings you don't want resurfaced
Careening over cut cases of crushed and suppressed emotion
It dries and forms more and more layers of shelling against the fragile heart

Sooner or later it forms too many layers the heart cannot handle any more
The heart breaks and burns, rips and suddenly regurgitates
Internal mental pain rushes through, consuming you
Then the first tear falls, a bittersweet drop that rolls hotly down your cheek

You don't care because you like how it feels
The second tear falls and the rest follow
You choke back a sob, a straggled breath
You shut your eyes and let the water flow

As you cry you allow the wall inside of your head to break
The surge of thoughts as strong as the new waves of tears
The heart begins to cry, moistening its shattered shards
The tears become a mending glue

When all is done, you lift your head and take a breath
The pain mitigated, the broken parts sealed back together
You wipe the tears that rivered down your face
Dreading the day your heart dries again

Loss

(Authors note: This poem has been echoing through my mind for about two years, when my grandmother passed away. Yesterday it consumed my thoughts completely, so I sat down and wrote it.)

Their whispers burbled like stream
Reading the hallowed words of the Book
Invoking a peace within my heart
Washing away the contentment of my soul

But still...

A sadness gripped me,
Shattered my being
Grief pulled on the strings that embraced the very essence of depression
It was not in my control

The rippling of their whispers continued and I couldn't help but think
Part of life and love, is loss and a supplement of suffering
A perpetual pondering of past and present
Pinned into our fabric of life

Losing a loved one is a tough, hard journey of coping
One must know, though, that life
Although harsh at times
Will always give you a sweet memory, and an even sweeter feeling

A soft glow in your heart
A lingering scent
The slightest figment of a dream
The final ease of the heart

As life goes on
She will always be there
Forever reverberating in my heart.

Mind of the Youth

The mind of the youth

Fast paced and edgy

Their hearts beat quickly

Their thoughts sketchy

Though they are not mature

Have much to learn and do

One this is for sure

Their steadfast holds true

We the Poets

we speak of poetry and hearts and souls, breathing air and kissing the sweetness of the world. that is what poetry is about. words spill from our lips, tick tick, our minds tock. we tick tick on our keys, hands flittering to the keys. words from lips, thoughts from the mind. tick tick. we write. we click. we cherish what we write and that is the nature of our kind, to drink poetry and eat our minds.

Spring Poem

My eyes peek at the bright green grass
And I feel the misty, light breeze pass
Behind the trees the glowing sun reveals its light
Leaving behind me a glare from my window glass

Streaming is daylight
And I'm sitting there, watching its beautiful sight
A robin comes by, flapping it's wings
Noon's approaching now, and I know I'm right

I see the brightness the day brings
Looking at the blooming flowers, their stems like strings
Now I'm positive of one thing for sure
Today marks the first day of Spring.

-Masa

*This poem was written by my sister. If you would like to see her photography blog click here. Take a peek! She is very talented. :-)

Where is Muse?

Where did he go? I swear he was here

Just a second ago, he was next to the pier

Yes. Yes he was. Helping me portray the buccaneer

The swashbuckling man who was churning the beer…

He’s gone now, though. Why did he disappear?

Help me, Muse. I’m so out of tune

How do you expect my writing to bloom?

I might go mad really soon

I’ll become a blubbering buffoon  

I'm begging you, please come back now. 

You're as important to me as a marriage vow

I cannot survive with your disallow... 

Did I chase you off, is that it?

Did I anger you enough and throw a fit?

Did my thoughts deliver that final hit

That blew you away along with my wit?

I'm back! This poem pretty much sums it all up. My muse was chased away after I had a few emotional crises and high levels of stress. He's been poking around in my head from time to time, visiting me for brief moments then disappearing again. He's back now though (and I'm hoping he's a permanent tenant this time), so be on the lookout for more posts. I love you all. :)

Living

I feel energized

Revived

Full of love and hope

I feel alive 

Living, breathing, sighing, laughing

Treasures of this life

I take it in my hands and breathe

                                                                              Its sweet air lingering 

                                                                          Breathtaking

                                                                        Life

                                                                           It's a beautiful thing.

Gloom

I look out of my window and I see
Gloomy clouds that darken me
Darken my world, darken my spirit
Sucking my happiness with every minute

I wish I could go outside right now
To paint the shading shades of gray
A variety of colors in every array
That is all.

Rose

Gloriously bloomed

Gentle to the touch

Soft as velvet

You are like a rose.

Like a rose you stand tall

Stand ready to be there for support

Ready to be a source of comfort

A source of tranquility

Like a rose your aroma fills my soul with warmth and glee

As I gently hold you in my arms.

Like a rose you appeal to me

The sight of you fills me with ecstasy at the thought that I am loved

I am loved.

But like a rose you are the thorns that graze me

Puncture into my skin like a dagger to the heart.

Although I cry out in pain you seem oblivious to the harm that you caused.

Like a rose the satisfaction you give me from your beauty diminishes

Withers away.

Temporary joy temporary sweetness temporary appeal

I toss you away because

You are

As temporary as a rose.