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Ansar Mohammed Poem
At last, their big day.
Gowned, smiling, hopeful and proud.
Graduates, conferred!
13/04/21
Ansar
Copyright © Ansar Mohammed | Year Posted 2021
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Ansar Mohammed Poem
I have been pondering for quite some time,
Is there a permanence to the meaning of the word ‘greatness’?
Whatever does it mean ‘to be great’ or ‘to feel great’?
You see, from ever since, I’ve attached its meaning to superiority,
Something unreachable, beyond my wildest imagination.
With branches beyond the skies,
which climax at levels exceeding human capability.
And thick, fibrous roots so deeply entrenched,
that they become onerous to deracinate.
But over the years, my realisation has surprised me.
I have recognised that greatness has distinctive,
yet instinctive qualities.
Much like a budding and unfolding bouquet of roses,
Its perfume is subjective.
Pungent to some, but fragrant and elegant to others.
Its vessel comes in different forms,
Some curved, thin or well figured.
And its florets can bud, bloom, change colour or even decay,
depending on the level of care.
Similarly, I have discerned that greatness resides in each of us.
Its aura is unfastened by our creativity and vision.
And it is unbarred by the similitude of unreached potential,
encasement or bewilderment.
And, at last, there cannot be any fixity to its meaning.
Rather, there is much subjectivity, intuitivity and reason,
that we must open ourselves up to receive.
I hope you receive and accept your feeling of greatness,
in whatever form it appears.
Love & Light.
07/04/21
Copyright © Ansar Mohammed | Year Posted 2021
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Ansar Mohammed Poem
Her eyes lightened the darkness of my hopelessness,
something about its softness pulsated.
Oh, what a prize,
my dear be mine.
I stared at her gently moving pupils hopeful,
to catch her gracious, precious attention.
But as our eyes locked, her consort arrived,
which solidified that she won't ever be mine.
Will there ever be a time when,
I can see such beauty again?
Short-lived dreams and,
pyrrhic triumphs.
- Ansar
28/02/21
Copyright © Ansar Mohammed | Year Posted 2021
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Ansar Mohammed Poem
For most of my life I've been silent,
Every moment I've remembered..
there was silence.
Silence in all of my actions, thoughts and expressions.
I don't know the reason why,
But I know there's a middle ground.
At the far extreme, there's the over achiever,
the people pleaser.
And to the other end, the least extreme,
there's the silenced, hopeless feeler.
Many times there's a reason for their silence,
but for me, there's no one to blame but me.
I'm the blame.
I blame myself for missing out on opportunities I knew,
I could have achieved but missed it because I stayed silent.
And to that end, I've watched people get celebrated
for the same things I've done while I stayed silent.
Which is why I blame me!
But although I'm the blame, I'm assured,
I never want to be at the far extreme.
To this day, there's a burning sensation inside of me
to release my silence.
Although, I don't think I'll ever be that free,
I am still longing for that middle ground.
Deeper inside, I know my hidden treasures will surface
one day, but it won't be to the death of my silence.
As in achieving the middle ground,
I'm self-assured that I'll continue to remain silent
until my voice is heard.
- Ansar
8/03/21
Copyright © Ansar Mohammed | Year Posted 2021
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Ansar Mohammed Poem
Teary mom waves ciao.
Through the school's louvre, he shouts,
"I want to go home!"
16/04/21
Ansar
Copyright © Ansar Mohammed | Year Posted 2021
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Ansar Mohammed Poem
The distressed damsel
A circuitous racetrack...
Sheer Liberation!
- Ansar
2/03/21
Copyright © Ansar Mohammed | Year Posted 2021
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Ansar Mohammed Poem
There's a faceless demon hurriedly approaching.
I instantly feel like I am choking.
Should I start to run away?
Or should I carry on with nothing to say?
The creature is indescribable but his goal is clear.
He's after my mind for which I cannot bear.
My heart is racing out of my chest.
This fiend is clearly obsessed.
He has just arrived and there's no turning back.
With sharpened claws, he's ready to attack.
I bear the pain for the rest of the day.
As my crippling anxiety, is here to stay.
- Ansar
01/03/21
Copyright © Ansar Mohammed | Year Posted 2021
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Ansar Mohammed Poem
The greatest blessings are usually the ones you've least expected.
Hold on,
Your actions will bear fruit one day.
It may be when the last wilted leaf of the Ponderosa touches the surface,
but that's okay.
Trust the process.
-Ansar
1/03/21
Copyright © Ansar Mohammed | Year Posted 2021
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