Category: Poetry

Poetry is a window into one’s personal experiences, both internal and external. The sights, sounds, and pulses of life can be immortalized in verses that stir the soul and instill hope, happiness, and sorrow. Remember that words heal as well as hurt.

A Song to the Sculptor

Posted on by Jonathan

Oh, stone carver, listen to me for a moment, that your skills be blessed.

Shatter my ignorance so my heart, hardened, may begin to beat. 
Remove the pain from my heart and take away my sorrow. 
Find a way to perfect my desires, so that even in pain, I can smile. 
Fill me with patience and remove the darkness surrounding me, and destroy all fear. 
Sometimes, I yearn to meet you,  but there is no one else besides you to talk to. 
Shape me so my creation makes others proud, and remove pride and arrogance from me. 
Give me humility and craft me as you wish. 
You are the creator of my life; I need no riches, just bless me with my desires. 
I am lost somewhere within myself; 
Take me out of the darkness  and give peace to my heart and soul. 

You know everything about 

my life.

اے سنگ تراش ذرا بات سن تیرے مہارتوں کی خیر ہو مجھے ایسی ضرب لگا ذرا جو میری غفلتوں کو توڑ دے سینہ سنگ دل بھی تڑپ اٹھے دل میں قید درد نکال دے میرے درد کو مجھ سے چھین کر میرے چہرے کی رونقیں بہال کر کوئی ایسا رستہ تالش کر مجھ پر چاہتوں کا کمال کر ٹھیں کہ ہم درد میں بھی مسکرا اُ صبر سے مجھے ماال مال کر میرے ِگردوپیش کی ظلمتیں پوشیدہ سب وحشتوں کو زوال کر بیٹھا لے کبھی اپنے ُروب ُرو تجھ سے ملنے کی ہو جستجو نہ ہو دوسرا کوئی سامنے فقط تجھ ہی سے ہو گفتگو مجھے ایسا تراش دے میری نسلیں سنوار دے غرور و تکبر مجھ سے دور ہو مجھے عاجزی ادھار دے تو مجھے جیسا چاہے تراش ُ تو میری زندگی کا کارساز ُ مجھے دولتوں کی چاہ نہیں تو مجھے اپنی چاہتوں سے نواز ُ موجود ہوں میں خود میں کہیں تو مجھے تاریکیوں سے نکال ُ ے د ن سکو کو ح و ر و ل د ے میر ُتو ل حا سب کا گی ند ز ی میر ہے نتا جا ہ شا عراُصیب ش:

Music Strange the Dreamer courtesy of Savfk, via Audio Library Free Music: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCHae4C99XJORB7Iog62wqvw

Don’t Stop Me

Posted on by Jonathan

Don’t Stop Me


Don’t stop me, Man, for I want to fly…
Let me be myself, for I want sky
My aim is beyond your comprehension, so let me go
I am restless while you sleep, for I must do what I have to do
I am hungry but I am aiming, my target too far
My perseverance is holier than the dew atop that mountain

Don’t stop me, Man, for I want to fly…
My passion burns me days and nights, and I die to live
Yes my friend, yes my foe, I am dead to the world
Hope not to conjure up your dead friend, for I am alive in another place
With my fecund imagination, I create a billion worlds of my own
The tyranny of little things can’t kill my fire — it burns and burns

I know I shall prevail against all odds
I will not tremble with the size of the times
I walk, I run, I rise, I fall… 

My trials and tribulations are severe and dark
But I move like the wind and find my way like the water
Time waits me but I wait none
Quitting is worse than death when one life is what you get

So don’t stop me, Man, for I want to fly…
See, how I float with the time, talking to the wind… 

The Lone Walk

Posted on by Jonathan

The sand beneath my feet whirls away,
sweeping me off in a sway.
On the floor, I lay,
as my grief is in bits, gradually fraying.

I stifle a chill as the breezes go hay,
the sun grows cold and gray,
on a thick cloudy day in May
with no hope and no sun rays.

Loneliness pries my soul and I pray
not to be the stranger coated with flay.
Yet, the pain feels like minted spray,
like the one whose beloved went astray.

But I’ll strive to keep my countenance gay;
keep cowardice far from my pathway
and give second chances a little foreplay
because there is a pain in every gained pay.

Heaven Simple

Posted on by Jonathan

the wind did not howl
but the door frame is loose
vibrated and swayed
like the unhinged rusting tin roof
and her anxious heart
like the approach of the wind
the visitors seemed to arrive
to test the breach in the  weakness
what was giving way in her situation
their shadows eerily long
threadbare the last of her hopes
their steps determined and firm
calling her out, voices loud
out in light to accost
treasure ships of riffraff ghosts
any other day
not when she is down with decay
her nerves are far from calm
the visitors as the wind
each raindrop
ceaseless till it stops
want to prevail 
leave her unveiled
that her pillar was gone
that she knew not how strong
uprooted he was
cut down in the sweetest hour 
then she heard am yet to be gone
not until you let me fall
yes I reverberate
in each step from here now you take

9 AM Discovery

Posted on by Jonathan

Open the album to see

your roots. Hover your petite fingers across
the beige page with the woman’s
face you inherited.

From full skirt
of exaggerated hips in black
and white, to shorts
with ultra-bright pink, red, purple

spiral. An itch for her
aura strengthens. Once,
you saw her softest smile. How

eerie is it to miss a stranger?

I like

Posted on by [email protected]

As I find myself in a very difficult time in Israel, where I live, this is a deliberately slow-paced ode to my journey to Ithaka.

I like

how light dances through fluted glass
drowsy streets at dawn
my tall son’s sudden smiles
the doves dozing on our balcony
older folks in redeemed finery
my daughter’s excited curls
the pond toads, sometimes frozen still, sometimes flying over swimming water irises
untranslatable words
drizzle on a hot day
movies in the afternoon
fresh mint
22 years of their father’s playful intuition
unlike another’s vision, once suspending this array beyond reach in our Mediterranean maelstrom.

I like that flying away eastwards, across the waves and years to now, they have all bloomed mine.

Old Photographs

Posted on by [email protected]

A ghost of a smile
Graced my lips,
Gazing at old faded photos of us I missed,
Younger days have gone so fast.
Truly good times never last.

Old happy times
Memories are forever stored in my mind.
Is this how getting old goes,
Always going back to times, we lost,
Favorite pastime now, I boast.

Old photographs lovingly stored,
Like treasures I dearly behold,
Bringing me back in time,
Like the sound of a sweet chime.

Under the same sky, we reminisce,
Good old times are the best,
Under the same sky, we cry,
Of people and things we lost,
Under the same sky, we gaze,
Never mind if this is a phase.

Every day is a new day to start anew,
Let the blue sky guide us through,
In God’s perfect time
We shall meet again, my friend,
Hoping that we can be the best again.

Without Censorship

Posted on by [email protected]

There is so much within her, she deems unspeakable.
A restlessness, long muted,
vibrating undercurrents beneath her skin.
You feel it too, don’t you?
A razor-sharp blade sliding across your insides,
like a silent threat waiting to cut open,
tear membranes, and spill out all you hold within.
All my unsaid tickles my anxiety, it does,
like soft feathers pulsating at the edges underneath the surface.
And this is how words denied air,
weighty yet bubbling to the surface every chance they get.

She can hear them whispering,
humming a soft song of longing in her ears.
Notes seeking companions in relief and release.
Wouldn’t we welcome such music at all?

Hawaiʻi – School Bus Snapshots

Posted on by [email protected]

Ho brah, your breath is haunas, dawg. Ever heard of one tooth brush?
Da ting smell so crip, garans gon make somebody make.
Not even. Not as haunas as your body odor, k.
Now das pilau. YOU ever heard of going bocha?
–
Eh, you brought your cd player and speakers so we can jam music on da ride home or wat?
Yeah, brah. Lemme bust out my collection of burnt CDs. Which one you like jam?
We go listen to some Zack Kekona. “Sitting In My Room”, dawg. You get dat song?
Garans.
Shoots we go jam em den.
–
You know da kine? Bernadette? She tink you cute, you know.
Not even. How you know?
Brah, she wen message me on AIM last night. Jordan’s cute, ya? She said. I shit you not, brah.
Go sit by her, you. No be sked.
No ways she like me. Brah, I fugly and den. Try ask her one more time if she tink I cute.
K, watch em.
Look. Now she stay smiling at you. Chance em!
–
Like challenge bloody knuckles? C’mon, brah. No be one panty. Just play.
Fine den. Brah, my knuckles so manini compared to yours. I no more chance and den.
No worries, beef curry. I not gon go all out on you.
Brah, dat was frickin hard, wat you talking bout!?
–
Eh, Samantha, Nick get one crush on you!
Eww, since when?
Long time already. Look, he like sit by you. Let him.
K, fine. I guess I small kine like him, too.
Hold hands den!
–
Cut dat shit out back there. All you guys do is yell nonstop da minute you step on da bus. Unreal.
We sorry auntie, but not our fault. Was –
Ainokea whose fault was. All you guys do is just run your pilau mouth. Cannot even be quiet for wat, 5 seconds?
Sheesh. You guys made auntie mad now.
–
Brah, shut up before da bus driver yell at us again.
Why for, she only gon yell. Nawtin mayjah. Garans she not gon do nawtin.
Bumbai she gon kick you off da bus, watch em.
K, fine. Nevah mind already. I going shut up.
–
So wat, Kori and Valerie, you guys official yet?
No. Who said dat?
Da kine said dat. Ugh, she so irraz.
Stop. You making her blush.
Ho, how’s Val, her face so red. Like one giant tomato, look em.
So cute you guys. You guys match.
–
So empty da school bus today. I wonder wat happened to everyone.
Probably sick or got picked up from family. I don’t know.
Eh, at least get some peace and quiet now yeah, auntie?
Dat, and I almost pau work!
–
I love you guys, but you guys drive me crazy afta school.
I no can remember da last time I had one peaceful bus ride while dropping you guys off.
But das auright. You guys is da highlight of my day, and das 5 times a week.
No matter how crazy you guys drive me, I wouldn’t have it any odda way.

Hauna: smelly, unpleasant odor
Garans: guaranteed
Make: dead
Bocha: take a bath
Panty: scaredy cat
Manini: a small thing (a type of fish; common reef surgeonfish)
No worries, beef curry: no cause for concern
Ainokea: I don’t care
Pilau: rotten stench
Crip: stink
Odda: other
Shoots: alright, okay, yes, I’m down, etc.
Chance em: go for it, take a chance
Auright: alright
Nawtin: nothing
Mayjah: major
Bumbai: later, otherwise, or else
Da kine: A catch-all term to denote literally anything you can’t remember the name of.
Irraz: irritating; to be annoyed
Pau: finished

Definition of Hawaiian Pidgin English terms courtesy of https://wehewehe.org/ and https://oleloonline.com/

Paper Dreams

Posted on by [email protected]

Turning from the busy conundrum of a dream full of lies,
A bittersweet goodbye;
Passion so strong
Somehow feels so wrong,
A meaningless feat,
Undeniable defeat;
What used to be alluring colorful lights,
Now flickering, almost dying,
Buzzing sound of glorious harmony,
Reduced to a humming melancholy,
Hauntingly beautiful.
Dreams of golden honey,
Fading into distance so uncanny,
Bittersweet memories creeping,
As nightmares awaken my being.
Lightning strike,
As grandfather clock struck
Witching hour of three,
Sky started to cry freely,
Downpour came in torrents,
Realization abhorrent,
Liquids seeping through the crack on the wall,
Flowing steadily onto the floor,
Blotted it out with crumpled papers to dry,
As I stare afar,
Paper now drenched,
Torn apart into pieces,
By the window I perched
Pen held tight,
No paper in sight,
Wanting to write
But cannot,
So I just sat tight,
As the paper on the floor dissolved into unrecognizable mess,
Just like my thoughts,
Wandering through time lost.