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Early mornings

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It’s early in the morning

It’s pitch black outside

The rest of the household is sleeping

But I’m wide awake

 

I pick up my phone 

To see what my friends are up to

Their days have already started

They are awake

 

I talk to my friends in Europe

I talk to my friends in Iran

We talk about history

We talk about art

 

In this part of the world

My friends are still sleeping

But with the magic of technology 

I’m in conversation with those who are not

 

October 26th, 2019

A gift to myself

 

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I cherish my solitude

A time to reflect

A time to write

There must be no distraction

I especially like coffee shops

 

This hour in the day has been carved into it

Because I’ve repeated it so many times

It’s now a groove into which I happily fall

 

It’s an hour when I recharge 

It’s a gift I give to myself

This time has brought me so much joy

I’ve spent these hours blissfully

 

Something so simple 

Can nourish my soul

It can be done anytime  

Anywhere in the world

 

March 10th, 2019

One cup

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One cup of meditation

Along with a cup of coffee 

Drunk in a peaceful place

A place where I’m not distracted by daily responsibilities 

A place l return to regularly 

No matter how busy life gets

 

One cup of meditation

As addictive as coffee

Often leads to thoughts being written down

This can be a cure for my weary soul

A balm for my sensitive heart

 

One cup of meditation 

Along with a cup of coffee 

Consumed daily

Gives me the energy and enthusiasm 

To carry on

 

February 2019

My wish to write

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I wish to write I told someone in my youth

You haven’t lived enough he told me

You have to experience life

To have something to write about

The cup needs to be filled

Before it can quench someone’s thirst

 

I was disappointed 

Even distraught 

I wanted to write ‘now’

 

But he was proven to be right

I had not lived long enough

Not shed enough tears

Not questioned things I believed in

Not gone through confusion and doubt

Not fallen so hard that it was difficult to get up

 

The caged bird sings in captivity

It’s her release

It’s her cry of help

In the lonely confines of the cage

It’s what keeps her occupied

It’s what keeps her alive and brings her joy 

And others are moved by her song

 

January 2019

To hell and back

 

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It is said to be a poet

You have to go to hell and back

The hell of suffering

The hell of hopelessness

The hell of dreariness

The hell of darkness

Why is that?

Could going to hell and back

Awaken in us emotions which we can then express in poetry?

Could going to hell and back

Teach us the humility that is required

To receive the gift of poetry?

Could going to hell and back

Burn away our impurities?

Could going to hell and back

Make brighter the colours of the world?

Could going to hell and back

Help us mature?

Going to hell and back

Seems and is awful

But if the result is poetry

What a gift

What a gift

 

December 10th, 2018

Writing

I write to sort out my thoughts and figure things out

What do others do who don’t write?

I write to relax and recuperate

What do others do who don’t write?

I write to express myself

What do others do who don’t write?

I write to go to a placeless place and explore

What do others do who don’t write?

I write to breathe out, to exhale

What do others do who don’t write?

I write to bring joy into my life

What do others do who don’t write?

I write to go to my place of calm

What do others do who don’t write?

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October 14th, 2018

The magic of art

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We can disagree on many things

But we can agree on the beauty of art

On the heights a poem takes us to

On how a painting moves us

On the sublime feelings we get from music

Art lifts our spirits

It touches our souls

It enlightens us

And as we share with each other

These beautiful things

As we celebrate what we have in common

We feel closer

And what can be more wonderful than art

As something to have in common

 

May 15th, 2018