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[Past Post] Blue Rose

17 Jun

I’ve been having trouble figuring out what to write. So this is a past post called “Blue Rose”, from my ex-blog, expressing the reason why blue rose is my favorite flower and why do I feel that why about it. Until I regain my words I’ll leave you to this. Enjoy:

A delicate sign to hope trembling and crumbling, trying her best to make something out of herself. She looked up and reached out to this world thinking would she rather be like everybody else? or Would she show herself no matter how different she is, no matter what made her this way?
She was identified as not being real genetically changed and made to this… but she had to prove herself.. Prove herself right that she existed!!
She was thrown in a snowy windy day on the ground waiting, anticipating for a life saver.. and there a blue rose as lonely, as lost as her… she picked her up, inhaled a deep soothing breath, dropped to her knees and looked up…. and the soft lyrics of a song came along:

Blue as the crying sky
With no thorn, AND no THISTLE
Only AN open face
Staring at the waking worldMaybe she´s just a morning glory
Lost in a tangle of vine
Maybe she´s just a morning glory
Lost in a tangle of vine

Her arms stretch wide
To receive a life
And her ROOTS go deep into the BLACK EARTH for strength
And she blooms and

Maybe she´s just a morning glory
Lost in a tangle of vine
Maybe she´s just a morning glory
Lost in a tangle of vine

She blooms while the people sleep
Only the TRAVELERS SEE HER
To those who RISE with the noon day Sun
She is a closed mystery

AND Maybe she´s just a morning glory
Lost in a tangle of vine
OH, Maybe she´s just a morning glory
Lost in a tangle of vine
Lost in a tangle of vine
Lost in a tangle of vine*


The girl walked with the blue rose clutched between her hands…she whispered ” I’ll not hide anymore” She decided not to hide anymore, no more for being lost and show her beauty no matter what is being told or said about her… She will stand whether was it out or in as long as she becomes herself….
She is a Blue Rose … She is a rose that is been made… and yet she’ll bloom to this life.. and not give up.. strong and independent… A Blue Rose she is.
I’d like to thank MJ-Al-Feeli  for shooting this photo exclusively for this post.
* “Blue Rose”, Lizz Wright.
-Esperanza Writes

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Unreal

9 Jun

As I drove down the highway,

Reality clashed it senses and dissolved into the unreal,

Everything around seemed false, fake, and fugitive.

I was afraid that the unreal that I felt is real,

What if the real is unreal and the unreal is real?

I drove faster and I became afraid of the indistinguishably I stored,

If I drove with this shortage of knowledge I might crash.

If I crash and it’s real I’ll be gone,

But what if this is unreal?

I grew dizzy… “think, me, think!!” I commended.

But everything is unreal, I’m just … cold.

Then I arrived, snapping into reality..

I broke a puddle of sweat,

I could no longer stand still and collapsed,

because everything was … real.

Exhaustion has overwhelmed me.

Today I am alive, but what about the next time,

When I mix between unreal and real?

And I doze off into a deep sleep.

-Esperanza Writes

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I Want

5 May

I want you to hear me even when I’m not talking.

To hear every whisper every word untold

To feel the vibration when it is not felt

Because you, my dear, care

I want you to know that I long to talk to you

Without any words said, because you know

I want to be near, so near

even though sometimes the real distance is far

I want a single of everything to mean a lot,

a single glance, a single touch, a single thought

All means more, more and more.

I want, and what a selfish thing to say, you.

-Esperanza Writes

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Today is All I See

29 Apr

Today all cars I see are white;

No other color, no other brand, no other design.

Today all shirts I see are red;

No other color, no other shade, no other style.

Today all skin I see is moderate brown;

No other color, no other flesh, no other tone.

My vision is blurred but those colors.

And so is my depth is colorless black.

Please, I beg bring me my colors back.

The feeling is agonizing and there is really no one to blame.

My heart beats fast, my throat dries up and everything on flame.

And I realize I’m only a onelet… just a onelet.

There is nothing to put down the flame.

Today out of all days is not the same,

My vision is blurred but those colors.

-Esperanza Writes

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[Past Post] The Path that Never Ends

25 Apr

Come closer and hold me tight against you..
Walk with me and show me a beautiful path..
A path where obstacles exist but you will always point it out to me… help me through it..
And no matter how we look ragged and old we will still be close together..
No matter .. No matter how maybe one day I would face sickness you will be there for me .. holding my hand and never letting go..
Assuring me that everything will be alright…
And when that path comes to an end.. you bring a shovel to dig another path.. so that our path becomes that path that never ends..

-Esperanza Writes

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تكلمت… بصمت [Past Post]

27 Feb


نظرتُ في عينيها
تبدو وكأنـَّها ثـُقِـلـَـتْ ….همومًا
سوادُ الليل ِ يختزلُ تلكَ العينين

وكأنها تحكي أيّامًا مضَتْ،
عبّرَتْ عن ماضي كيانِـهـا بتلكَ …النظرةِ
و بدا الأمرُ وكأنها

تكلـَّمتْ.. بصمتْ
-Esperanza Writes

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Behind Castle Walls

15 Feb

Have you ever thought that maybe all of us, excluding no one that is, are behind castle walls? That every each one of us are afraid that no one will hold our hands when we call for help and that is simply because they can’t hear us?

Sometimes we just need assurance.

An ear that would listen rather than hear.

A hand that would catch rather than be extended.

Feet that would walk rather than just stand.

The castle walls are just so thick they need strong hands that are determined to break them.

To see through them and beyond them.

Everyone thinks that I have it all
but it’s so empty living behind these castle walls
these castle walls
If I should tumble if I should fall
would any one hear me screaming behind these castle walls
there’s no-one here at all, behind these castle walls

nobody knows i’m all alone
living in this castle made of stone
they say that money is freedom but i feel trapped inside it all
and while i sit so high up on a throne
i wonder how i can feel this low
on top of the world it’s beautiful
but there’s no place to fall

p.s: It is originally a rap song featuring Christina but I only liked her part due because I don’t like rap songs even though I’m pretty sure the lyrics are well written it’s just not my taste.

-Esperanza Writes

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[Past Post] One Day

28 Jan

Past Post is a post I’ve written in my old blog and reposting it from time to time when I don’t have anything to write and until I could gather up my thoughts.

Enjoy:
I challenged myself and said give me any picture and I’ll try to write something out of it and my friend Layal told me to check her latest on flickr (Say MashAllah) isn’t she cute <3.
Here goes :
One day I’ll be something..
One day the future will be in between my hands and I’ll fascinate you.
For I am a girl of dreams..
Do you know what I see?
I see myself a strong, promising, and confident lady…
I’ll be flying over the skyscrapers and way over…
and in the crowd of millions I’ll be noticed.
You know why?
Because I have the look of hope..
True I’m just a little girl today but one day…
One day I’ll be something you’ll always refer to as the strong fighter who achieved.
One Day I will be.

-Esperanza Writes

Letters to the Wind

24 Jan

I do not own the picture I just own the words. It was found by mere coincidence agreeing to the idea of the post.

I wrote a letter, sealed it and gave it to the wind.

It slipped my fingers, willingly.. I wanted to chase my words.

But I already gave it to the wind.

I watched it as it flew away lightly.

Will someone read it? Will someone read my words?

It flew away .. far, far away.

No turning back now.

It is flying now waiting to be caught, until then it will continue flying.

Meanwhile I sat down and started writing another letter… to the wind.

-Esperanza  Writes

 

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I Promise… And what is a Promise?

22 Jan

Before you read:

I wrote this poem a month or so ago at an “American Literary History and Culture” class. While discussing an Emily Dickinson poem, which is actually one of my favorite poets out there. She is too.. what is the word: me? Yes she is somehow me. One friend asks me why do you love her so much? I said: because when I read for her it’s like I’m reading for me. I’ll be talking about her later on. Anyway when I wrote it I left it incomplete and when I came back to it and read it I thought: it ended right where I left it hanging. It doesn’t need an ending. I love it that way. So now I give it a title with the first line. It is a free verse no rhyming scheme of whatsoever. It is a poem of the struggle of the inner self and an the trust of another person. While the inner self wants some assurance of some sort. Enjoy!:

I promise… And what is a promise?

I say… And what is speech?

I give…. And what is a giving hand?

What is all without its true meanings?

Given this, a double edged view, should you now trust?

A question, sincere or not, should you trust me?

Should you give your body, mind, and soul?

Or most importantly give the heart of yours in the hands of mines?

Should you trust that I will handle it gently?

With care. like I handle mines, no manipulations?

-Esperanza Writes

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