Dreams whisper to me
at impossible times;
i carry a mirrror of my own
my ideas seeking colors,
release from my soul;
It isn’t rocket science
to drown the voices in head
but harder it is each day
to justify living to yourself;
Wether stupid, naive or unreal-
dreams can wait a lifetime to reveal
the truth behind the scene
can only be to move those peices.
Written for toads (inspired by the image)
Layers upon layers –
society’s judgements piled on her;
her dreams buried in the heart.
word by word, she forged her way
a burst of color, a tint of magic;
a butterfly set free on paper…
==
Inspired by Six sentence Story (Burst) and BrewsNspew Cafe (Butterfly)
This change of country has not been easy for me but something that I had completely not prepared myself was having some challenging people around. Anyway, this post is about the little things I feel good about right now , coz I need that reminder –
1. This is my 21st post on the blog in the very first month. ( I have promised to write 300 posts in 2019 )
2. I will be finally moving out of the hotel this weekend and into a studio apartment so that means I will be eating hot self cooked meals again.
I finally get to fill a house the way I want and make it a home for me and my husband. This was sort of a subconscious dream of mine from years ago when we were dating. ( More of that conversation some other time )
3. This uncomfortable phase of worries and panic attacks and nights of tossing in the bed has been instrumental in finding my strength again . It taught me that if you keep sight of your long term goals, the daily issues can be handled one by one.
This was much needed lesson that had to be revised well in order to be implemented.
And work ? I know I am capable and I know to keep my head down and put in my 150 percent effort. I should be okay. Right ?
Stay blessed you all.
💗
If waking the morning
You can not answer the question
Who are you today ?
I suggest you go back
To your beginning and figure
Where you happen to lose
Your sense if being important
In your own head and heart.
A wife ,a daughter, a manager,
A colleague ,a friend –
If these do not define you whole
Or help you close the loop
Of filling life with more roles,
I suggest you give it a thought
To the dreams you let go.
Shut out the noise in your head,
The run for money and fame
Can not begin without passion
And the nights of hard work
To create that one thing
That will be the mark of you,
Your life and your values too.
Let your ideas come alive
And speak for themselves,
Let nothing bring you down
In your chase of finding yourself,
It’s time to step into unknown
In order to find words
That are struggling to form a song.
Like dandelions
Fluttering freely in the air
The white fluffy dreams blinking
in the sun; I stand there rooted
Looking at the blinding light
Confusing it with hurdles.
Once the eyes close, it is clear;
the strength I need,the affirmations,
the will and the confidence
It’s all there in me; burning low
But enough to be stroked into a fire
The won’t burn me but has the power
Of a Phoenix to rise from within;
The dreams now stick to me
Like clouds of cotton candy
Sweetening the air and mouth so sticky,
I return to the night, wiser probably.
My dreams lately have me seeing a lot of people from past. Some who have been mentioned in recent days and many who I don’t think i ever remembered after parting ways with. The dreams are kind of happy , even if not , atleast they are not sad or mysterious. Talking of mysterious dreams , I guess the weirdest one was to be invited to have a drink with my dad 😀 [ I still want to see how he or my mom would react to that ]
For years I have believed that dreams are answer to your subconscious thoughts. They might be something you badly want or just an image of what the future can hold for you. Sometimes they remind us of people we do not want to think about but we should. the college friends ( and the not-friends) I saw last week , the friends from present I saw today morning , they all had a reason to be there , even if i don’t know it now.
And the nightmares too. They show us whom we trust and turn to in real life crisis. I remember for a long time , I always saw my mom in my nightmares – in pain with me , protecting me and looking out for me. Then one night an year back, I had a real bad one and I saw him holding out his hand to me. I held that in dream and when I woke up , something inside me wanted that hand in real too. I always took it as a sign of accepting my feelings for him. And thank god I did.
So what do you think of your dreams ??
Another Jan.
Another year begins.
Another set of goals.
Another sky full of dreams – mine for myself , of loved ones from me , mine for the loved ones.
Another glance back at the paths left behind – some traveled some not.
Another look around at the smiling faces that step into this unknown journey with me – wondering how many will still be there next jan.
Another thankful nod to them and a warm welcome to the new friends.
Another empty notebook on the desk of life.
And I write ….
Watching both ahead and back,
here and there,
around and within,
inside out of my heart
outside held in my palms,
setting a new goal for me
painting a picture of happier me.
asking myself if am alone
finding a hand to securely hold on.
knowing for once,life is good,
keeping faith in music and books.
loving him ,sometimes less that more,
loving self, more than most.
Written for OSI , Month of the year challenge – January
One day I killed a dream
the ashes still hurt my eyes.
One dream gave birth to hopes in heart
the flowers make the days easy to pass.
One flower fell in love with winds
to fly away or to die is its only dream.
One dream killed the lovely flower
the songs of love resonate the valleys since.
This form of poetry is landai– two-line folk poems from Afghanistan.the success of the poetry form is attributed to it being easy to memorize, which is really important in a culture where women are poorly schooled and forbidden to write or read. The word landai means “short, poisonous snake” in Pashto. The poems are collective — no single person writes a landai; a woman repeats one, shares one. It is hers and not hers. Although men do recite them, almost all are cast in the voices of women.
The italicized landai is taken from another article and I have written linked ones after that.
Much thanks to Kenia @ imaginary Garden for talking about Afghan women and their struggle for poetry which is in a way is reflective of their life.
Please do read the original article : Why Afghan women risk death to write Poetry
So much said of you and me ,
In direct lines
Or form of he and she;
So much I hide yet reveal
With words left alone
In market of dreams;
There goes the merchant
No heart and soul,
The riches lining the pot belly;
And ignored we stand
In different lanes,
Buying our share of misery;
In glances we feel
The forced smiles
Yet walk away guilt free.
When winds refused
to raise the wings,
i grew for years
to help me stay above;
I cut them one by one
dripping blood and tears
and into a shell i went
away from all dear ones.
But words are stronger
then i ever imagined
a golden ray of hope,
I caught for escape.
only words did keep
the promise to stick,
people came closer
and some were let go,
but always did god grant
a special one to hold.
To all those special
and dear ones I raise
a wassil for lifetime
whether i stay around
or decide to move on.
today you people matter
and i wish to keep it so
till we forget our blessing,
and have our dreams lost.
This post#600 is dedicated to every one I met in my journey of writing on this page. Thank you every one. Bless you !
A special mention to the love i got from few people in my life that has kept me loyal to my first love – the love for words.
—
Prompted @ The Mag , OSI