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Mariyam Kormath Poem
That day was forever.
It was finally time,
For us to move out.
We found old card-boards
From our neighborhood
Chose the best ,
Carefully laid our stuff .
Our old home stood ,
At the center of the town,
Where we grew up;
With chaos all around.
The terrace gave me company,
Keeping my little secrets
and carved names on the mosses.
The rock bottom of the deep well
Found me screaming out,
The voices inside and listen.
The walls held empty pots,
Once chrysanthemum grew.
The cherry tree stood nearby ,
Which never bloomed, though
Caterpillars found home.
The mango tree in the backyard,
Dwarf enough for one to climb,
Gifted its shade and not a mango .
Guavas, we did grab,
From the terrace, ripe and raw.
Star fruits hugged the soil now,
For we ignored them fall.
Hibiscus leaves soothed my hair
And henna leaves, my hands.
And the verandah, void
With its circular chair,
Wrapped green.
Grandma used to sit there,
Observing her town with pride.
I taped the card-boards,
Wrote my name and date,
Sighed for the days of
Hard work and choosing.
And waited to move out.
The place was a mess,
So were we, though
We deserved better.
Looking back, I will regret
Packing my childhood apart .
Card-boards resembled
Tombstones with my name.
Never did my dreams fail
To lead me back home.
And the pain of watching
As a stranger passing by,
Never faded away.
A haunted house, it remained.
Yes, moving out was hell.
Life was never the same again.
Copyright © Mariyam Kormath | Year Posted 2020
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Mariyam Kormath Poem
While I sit here in the ruins of my past,
the room turns darker and myself, a ghost.
There was a time when,
Flying away was a choice, left
and coming back when the time felt right.
Mumbling of stones is all I hear
Mind has grown tired listening.
There was a time when,
hibernating was a nice idea
to take a break ,let the thoughts settle,
to wait for the pain to drip away,
start writing letters to ones I love,
Exploring depths never knew I had.
But this seems to be a hell of thoughts!
that've imprisoned my weird dear soul.
And I live to love this dark room;
Nothing beyond; Nor within.
Insanity is a tiny step away.
There's no escape; not yet.
I hope everyone is freed in no time
with nothing more to worry.
Till then, be the prisoner yourself
and stay away from the troubles.
04-04-2020
Sponsor: Julie Leigh Rodeheaver
Contest Name: Quarantine Poems
Copyright © Mariyam Kormath | Year Posted 2020
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Mariyam Kormath Poem
It came from a beloved book; the dream
Long lost, or so I thought,
which told: Go to your Turkey
and meet the Rumi in your dreams;
to complete his story; if I were the
story teller,destined,
for love comes from the strangest of places.
I hoped to make the dream come true.
'The Poet'* told me: Find the deserts
that hide within the city;
like the grief hidden beneath a happy face.
He wrote me a poem,with all blessings.
How I hold those poems dear!
But was it a feeling that came and left on its own?
For I no more find Turkey wherever I look.
And I am hopeless to go there;
and die before my Death.
May be Turkey is somewhere near
I just need time to find where.
"Even if I were the Shams,
where is the Rumi to see the beauty!"
Where the Boundaries disappear;
Timelessness creep in;
Names forgotten ;
and nothing but Love remains.
Upon there is my journey
and there lies my destination.
Please don't stop the beautiful dreams.
I am thirsty for more!
*
The poem was inspired from the reading of the book 'Forty Rules of Love' written
by Elif Shafak ,based on the beautiful story of the Sufi poet
Rumi and his beloved soulmate Shams of Thabriz. Suddenly I was too much into the words of Rumi,
to know him more and more. In a literary event, a poet wrote a short poem for me after we talked about dreams of visiting Turkey , Rumi and dervishes. The process was called busking.
Forever grateful for that poem 'Dreams of Desert'.
Copyright © Mariyam Kormath | Year Posted 2020
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Mariyam Kormath Poem
Appreciate your own deepest scars
without which, you could never be you.
The marks, left by past on your soul
which burned over and often, till adapted to.
Never insist on letting others know.
They never gonna feel it like you.
The scars that gifted nothing but pain;
in whose trials you found your strength.
Copyright © Mariyam Kormath | Year Posted 2020
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Mariyam Kormath Poem
Inside, I am burning
I smell ashes beneath;
reminded of phoenix or death?
Found a bloody stain,
cut right through the heart.
Outside, world finds me smiling.
Returning wishes and supporting.
Even to the strangers,
I may seem the happiest person.
All in the world is simply charming.
I might be the best actor of these kind.
I wonder who would outshine me.
Copyright © Mariyam Kormath | Year Posted 2020
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