Tag: poetry

  • While you were raging

    A poem about rage, by Zaid Ismail

    While you were raging
    The world moved on
    The ones who struggle
    Are the ones who scorn
    Who find comfort in your pity
    To honour their own
    Who pacify your regrets
    To deflect from their own

    While you were raging
    Your world moved on
    As you trusted the pitiful
    You discarded your home
    Inevitable was the outcome
    Of being alone
    What you sought to avoid
    Became your new home

    While you were raging
    You destroyed your home
    You traded your peace
    For an unfortunate loan
    A debt you’re claiming
    From one who is gone
    Imposed on the living
    Your rage found a home

    While you were raging
    You discarded your home
    Neglected the living
    While honouring those gone
    The living receded
    The dead grew real
    As you scorned at what is
    But yearned for what’s lost

    While you were raging
    You lost your soul
    You traded your beauty
    For a whimsical song
    You traded your blessings
    You traded your peace
    And exchanged your sincerity
    To be a devilish pawn

    While you rage
    The world moves on
    The world doesn’t care
    About your scorn
    The world has enough
    Enough of its own
    Adding to its rage
    Only destroys your home

    Stop raging
    It wastes you away
    It doesn’t convey
    What you wish to relay
    It only repulses
    Whom you wish would listen
    If only you knew
    What you possess within

    There’d be no need to rage
    No need to damage
    No need to destroy
    No need to ravage
    You’ll discover understanding
    Empathy, and grace
    Compassion will return
    And gentleness too
    And best of all
    You’ll spare some for you.

    If you choose to rage
    The world will simply move on…
    Without you.

    Zaid Ismail

  • Respond with poetry

    Respond with poetry

    Responding in kind to the trials of life only gives those trials more power.

    Instead, be the eternal romantic.

    Look for the starry sky in the darkness, or the glow of the sunshine behind those grey clouds.

    Romance is not about sharing a moment with another.

    Romance is about embracing a moment for yourself despite the ugly around you.

    Be romantic without waiting for permission.

    Let your response to life be the poetry that uplifts the world.

    There are enough prose writers out there.

    We need more poetry…

    More beauty…

    More sincerity…

    More authenticity…

    Prose is our need to be heard, to be validated, and to be seen.

    Poetry is our gift of everything that is beautiful and gratifying about life.

    If you have the ability to create goodness and peace, that is your ability to write poetry on the timeline of your life.

    Be poetic. Be romantic. Be you.

    Own Your Life.

  • Forgotten bones

    Forgotten bones

    Sullen heart

    Tainted soul

    Exhausted spirit

    Far from home

    A journey long

    A stranger lone

    Broken promises

    Forgotten bones

    Cryptic poetry from a cryptic soul

    For each to take

    What echoes with their own…

    Photo credit : Adobe Stock

  • Restless souls write

    Restless souls write

    Restless souls write

    Anxious souls read

    Complacent souls pay no heed

    And then there’s me. Fitting uncomfortably in each space, while not fitting in at all.

    There’s a blessing in being anomalous. It spares us the slavery of living by rules.

    But blessings don’t occur without burdens, and the burden of being anomalous is the restlessness that it spawns.

    As we look around for familiarity, but only find much to scorn, we see the drudgery of the complacent and the fear of the anxious.

    And in that is born our restlessness that stirs us from our sleep.

    Once you’ve tasted the sweetness of living, existing feels like a curse. And once you’ve tasted the beauty of love, its absence feels like…nothing…it feels like nothing at all.


  • Poetry of old

    Poetry of old

    “Poetry often belies the age of the poet,

    but always reveals the struggles of the soul.

    What we write of youth, applies to old.

    But most would rather resist it,

    Than bear the truth be told.

    I’m in love with life.

    But I hate the world.”

    It’s possible to live life romantically, you know. Despite the horrors and pain that appear to be so pervasive in this world, perhaps romance is the ultimate rebellion against the cruelty of life.

    Perhaps.

    This is something that I wrote a few years ago, it still accurately describes my conflicted relationship with this world.

    What you take from this, be it pessimistic, optimistic, or simply cynical, is a reflection of who you are and what your current relationship is with your world.

    Yet, most will read into this what they believe to be true about me, not realising that what we see in others is a reflection of what we are hopeful, grateful, or bitter about in that moment.

    How connected are you with your relationship with the world around you?

  • Blessed are the few…

    Blessed are the few…

    Blessed be the gentle ones who love too fiercely,

    Accept too easily

    And hope endlessly.

    The ones torn between duty and love

    Or responsibility and passion

    The ones who sacrifice quietly

    But celebrate others loudly

    The ones who when sad

    Find joy in making others smile

    Who serve willingly

    But expect none in return

    Blessed be they,

    For they are the whispers of the heavenly breeze

    Amidst the howling dogs.










  • Poetic Relevance

    Poetry often belies the age of the poet,

    but always reveals the struggles of the soul.

    What we write of youth,

    applies to old.

    But most would rather resist it,

    Than bear the truth be told.

    I’m in love with life.

    But I hate the world.

  • Life Awaits

    Pleasantries aside,
    Life awaits.
    A release
    waiting to be honoured,
    A being of self
    resisting restraint,
    An expression of the soul
    refusing all rules,
    A delight of indulgence
    to tickle a child.
    Laughter
    Love
    Abandon
    Life awaits.