Young Poets - Blog Posts

TRUTH UNTOLD - by Joud Aburashed

I have so much to say But the world might decay Fear hurts not as much as regret  So I sharpen my sword ready to strike For my words are a weapon filled with might I look into the eyes of those souls Who were taught to keep their words behold Reassurance floods as for me I'm bold This is a new chance For righteousness to breed and enhance  Something weighs on my shoulder  It burns like ice yet even colder  So I release Finally feeling relief  This wasn't a war  This was for peace  For what is most valuable to me My morals that run glee So speak up for what you believe  You might feel relief 

Here's Another Poem I wrote

This is one of the two poems that I wrote this year for a black history assembly at my school.

Blind

Can’t see it.

Can’t feel it.

Can’t recognize it.

You’re blind.

You turn away from the struggle of others.

You won’t hear about the injustice.

You pretend it’s all in the past.

You’re blind.

Don’t act like isn’t here.

Don’t act like it isn’t there.

Don’t make-believe it's all gone away.

Don’t look away from all the pain.

Your guilt is telling you to turn away.

Your fear is making you hateful.

Your hate is turning you violent.

Your ignorance has made you blind.

Here's a Poem I wrote a year ago

(would've been good to post this in February, but I didn't give a crap about tumblr in February so this is what I'm doing)

What I am is smart and kind.

What you are is ignorant and blind.

What I am is black and beautiful.

What you are is vile and unhelpful.

It's not my fault that you hate me so.

Just because my skin is not the color of winter snow.

It's not my fault you will stoop so low.

So, I will walk on as calmly, as the summer wind blows.

Don't you see it's not important where you come from?

What matters is if you treat people like scum!

So, you can keep talking and thinking the way that you do.

But don't be surprised when karma comes to have a chat, with you.

(I know it's not that good, but I wrote this when I was 13 for a black history assembly we did at my school and it's really the first piece of poetry I did that wasn't god-awful)

Ashes To Ashes, Dust To Dust

I don't burn bridges, I build them. Putting down every piece of wood, every screw going in its correct place. Admiring the beauty I built with my own two hands then walking away to come back at a later date. But I have a bad memory so the bridge is soon forgotten, until it begins to wither and decay. People attempt to pass over it only to get stuck and eventually fall into the water underneath. I opened the news to see my precious bridge I bilt so carefully caused countless deaths because I couldn't take care of it. I finally come back to the bridge but it's not what I remember. The pretty mahogany wood that used to be spotless is now covered in blood and tears from its unsuspecting victims. Screws that used to hold it together now sticking up popping the tires of everyone who dares to try to pass.  I step on the bridge only for it to crack and me to fall through, the remains of the bridge falling on top of me and crushing me. I don't burn bridges, I build them and eventually I let them take me with them.

-C

Why must I crave the one thing I fear?

I wish to wake up to someone beside me, snoring softly while the morning sun creeps in through the blinds.

I want to be wanted.

Yet the thought of someone falling in love with me is terrifying.

Falling in love is terrifying.

The thought of being left broken is terrifying.

- C

Halsey from I Would Leave Me If I Could

I hate the way I look,

I hate my smile,

I hate the way I talk,

But you loved everything about me

You took all the hate and replaced it with love I never had before

Now I'm left with the essence of your love mixing with my hate not understanding how I could ever let you go

I hate myself more than ever

Point of view

So many men treating wo/men like shit

it feels like it doesn’t matter even a bit

But that isnt the bad thing about it

Its the matter of course thats the shit

Getting dickpicks without asking

Is the thing thats so blasting

Or be treated like a peace of meat

Doesn’t matter if you take a seat,

jump on the beat

or just stand on your feet.

They always find an opportunity

to catch a sight of your body heat.

Men thinking we cant see them gazing

They really think they are hazing

Their disrespect is just amazing.

Thinking we are dumb enough

To not recognise all the disgusting stuff.

Thats so unfair please remember that shit

Cause u wont be laughing about it

If that once happens to your kid

Never mind if daughter or son

They will be the burned one

It will stick to their memorys like a gum

I wonder what place you are from

there is nothing good you’ve ever done

And the world would be better when you’re gone

So go ask your mom

Where did this asshole behaviour come frome ?

What was the reason ?

Who’s fault

And what is this all about?

-B.I

To all amazing people here on Tumblr...

Don't you know how precious it is ? when you take your time, go through someone's blog carefully, actually 'read' their works and care about liking them , even commenting. You won't even know ,how much it means to the person.

The person might be tired, might be thinking of giving up , giving in , you might be going through something similar, but that one gesture can do them more good than you can imagine and can light you up too!

Tell me I am wrong!

The world is full of darkness ,but here, your one gesture can bring light. Be that light.

Don't forget to appreciate good things as the world has a little of them left.

Spread love, be happy , keep smiling !!

✨💜☮️🌱♾️

(on depression and chronic pain, and those without it.)

Ignorance is Bliss

I had never truly understood the saying

“Ignorance is Bliss,”

The thought of not knowing is terrifying

But then I let someone in, and saw it there;

“Ignorance is Bliss.”

She has lived a life in Difference.

I wonder often if I would like to be

“Ignorance is Bliss,”

For to love without its opposite has become my day-star wish.

So now I see her in her Difference,

“Ignorance is Bliss”

And evny how she must live in her bones,

For in my bones lives a thing unblessed with

“Ignorance is Bliss.”

It knaws happily at the displacement in my gut.

Now spilling these guts from your mouth makes her wish for

“Ignorance is Bliss.”

But the wish manifests as disgusted pity.

How could i ever make the world love me?

“Ignorance is Bliss.”

When it is shrouded in all of this?

And you wish to understand the saying;

“Ignorance is Bliss.”

i wrote this about a friend who would only ever feel sympathy not empathy and the effort of the explanation exhausted me. Her ignorance is blissful as she has never woke up tired in a physical and mental way, bone deep aches that have to be left unrelieved.

please never offer condolences, sweet nothings

so now i ask you to think, what do you feel, sympathy or empathy? sure you may feel more, but of the two? can you feel the anger, the sence of injustice lingering between the words? can you hear that i am desperate?

-Vladimir Nabokov, from letter to Vera Nabokov dated July 1923, featured in Letters to Vera

And for you, a thousand times over I will.

Oh how painful it is to realise how much I love you and to look at your charming eyes just to realise they don't have the love for me anymore

Different shades of sky And people too...

Thoughts that always churn my mind😑

Dress-code

When I was 13 my father dress-coded me for the

first time.

He told me that I’m not supposed to wear a short skirt.

Because I’m a girl,and girls have to watch what they are wearing,

Because there are a lot of big bad men who can hurt girls ,who are wearing short skirts.

My dad saw a problem in the skirt,

but I saw a problem in men.

I am sorry I couldn't create a safe place for you.

I am sorry I couldn't be brave enough to let you be you.

I am sorry for all the times I made you say you hate pink (we love it now).

I am sorry for trying too hard sometimes and not trying at all other times.

I am sorry that you had to face all those years alone, without someone to hold you close.

I am sorry for letting you go when I should've held onto you tighter.

I am sorry for thinking that shutting you out will make me feel like I belong somewhere, anywhere.

I am sorry for abandoning you when all you ever had was me.

But now, little one, we are here. You and I, both of us are safe in this space that I have started to call 'heart'.

Cry all you want, I'll hold you. Be fierce, be gentle, be everything that you've wanted to be. I am here and you can be you.

Sweet young child, you're safe in my hands.

And we'll be okay. I love you, and that's all that matters.

To my younger self,

I'm sorry that I couldn't save you. I'm sorry that I didn't stop you from harms. I'm sorry that now you're too broken to be put together

It was never your fault. It was never your fault. It was never your fault. Not your fault. Not your fault. Not your fault. Not your fault

oh lawd no he made poetry-

so there's this account i've been following for at least 3 days called @interwovenwordsmith. she makes great poetry, mostly about hollow knight. she insprired me to make some of my own. i was thinking about making it about the dreamers. but then when i was eating chocolate covered peppernuts (this is the most direct translation, its a dutch sweet with no real english word) i got an idea: "what if i make a poem about chocolate?"

so i did.

it was a nice change of phase. i haven't done something like this (aside from a dutch tradition were the peppernuts are kinda meant for), but i enjoyed it, even if it might not be the greatest. feedback is appriciated.

there might be some wrong information and some wrong grammar and you really need to mispronounce some things to make them rhyme, but i had fun, and thats all that matters. most information is ripped directly of wikipedia btw.

also should i do more poetry about other kinds of chocolate and tell the story about eating my first ruby chocolate kitkat?

thank you for reading!

mothers & daughters

i wish my mother liked me more

i know she loves me

she has to

i just wish she likes me sometimes

i wish i was all the things she wanted in a daughter

instead of all the things she didn't

i wish she liked me more

than she likes her religion

i wish i liked my mother more

i try, i really do

i just can't help but roll my eyes, sometimes

or sigh when she asks a question

i wish i could see past her flaws

or even love her in spite of them

i wish i could break the cycle

and yet around and around it goes

feminine rage

i was 11

crying over the loss of a friend

"boys and girls are just different" my mom told me

was it helpful or trivializing

i'm still not sure

i was 12

they told us something like 1 in 4 girls are assaulted

we looked around the room

wondering who it might be

terrified of the answer

they told us what the men are looking for

our eyes turned on ourselves

we didn't want to make ourselves more of a target

i was 13

during a self-defense class at church

we learned how to hit, how to kick

how to pop a man's eyes out of his head

barely a teenager

and they told me to hit the dummy like i really meant it

i was 13

ruth bader ginsburg died, and i cried

i rarely cried over anything then

but i cried over her

trump was already trying to replace her that night

i was 14

sitting in the front of the car

while my brothers in the back

made a joke about sexual assault

i wanted to scream at them

but i didn't

i was 14

we were working on a story about the dress code

one of the girls mentioned

that it hadn't mattered what she was wearing

my heart broke

i was 15

i watched as they stripped my right to my body

as people around me celebrated

what happened to my choice

a boy asked me to stop talking about it

for the girls in our class to stop using dark humor

as our only coping mechanism

said it made him uncomfortable

he still has all his rights

i am 16

a friend calls while she is running

just to feel safer

i have to explain to the boys in the room

that she didnt want to talk

she wanted to not be a target

i am 16

my brother says that sometimes

women are so annoying

he just wants to shoot them

i'm not sure he doesn't mean it

i am 16

"it must be his time of the month"

one boy jokes about another acting irrationally

it isn't funny

but i sit in silence anyways

i don't want to be accused of being emotional, too

i am 16

"men's lives are more challenging" he argues

he ignores every point we make

he was never going to listen

but we still try, desperately

finally our teacher shuts us down

i want to yell or cry or do anything to release the rage bottling up inside

the rage that runs through my veins

all of our veins

when they belittle us and take away our rights and make us feel weak

and we let them

because it's all they ever taught us to do

unexpected, expected

what happens when you lose a friend?

when he drops you without warning

stops talking to you, but tells everyone else how much he hates you

how annoying you are

and you didn't expect it

but maybe you did

you felt it coming in his exasperation

in the way he stopped texting back

in the way he laughed at everybody's jokes but yours

unexpected, but expected all the same

he did it to others, so why shouldn't it be your turn?

you tell yourself you're better off

and everybody else agrees

but you can't help but be a little sad, still

unexpected

like an anvil dropped onto my head

expected

i felt it in the way he sighed

therapy

it was so easy to blame my parents

for not getting me help

for not noticing that i needed it

i blamed them so i did not have to blame myself

for not advocating

for being scared

for disregarding all the advice i give to other people

but now they noticed

and im still scared

and what i've thought i needed for so long

maybe won't work after all

The pain is like a sedative/ that kills me; makes me cry—and puts me to sleep/

-excerpt from my book💋💕

Old poetry is such an unexpected GEM

Darling, how I wish I could tell your gentle soul how light flickers atleast twice before it is eternal.

For the most virulent of snakes would spit off their venom to kiss your name, when it is but etched on a rock;- how when timid dark ravens will curl themselves in vines that reach from behind your tomb, would then flaunt their wings spreading life around like scattered glitter.

And the rain would skip you when souls begin to raise their cupped hands crying for water,

For your stubborn petals bloom with tears that are only now salty in your mouth."

Now someone tell me what was going through my mind at 12 years old because clearly there is plot behind this.

If you are so keen on hating me,

Please hate me only in the mornings.

For I know you dream of me every night,

And I would rather slit my throat every single day

than to be a nightmare to you.

Letter #30

These shoes never walked a single step astray From the memories of skin in that dingy underway In their wake comes everything I once held dear to say Tightened laces bracing forth through times of "come what may" While you fall on a prayer you wont remember me this way Love, you wont remember me each day.

Date Written: 25th of October, 2023

Letter #29

As I stare upon the reflection of my glass Containing the same thing I know May very well be what kills me one day I feel nothing. It's just me, my thoughts And the numb taste of an indulgent slow decline Deadline in hand, waiting on empty promises. I feel absolutely nothing.

Date Written: 1st of October, 2023

Letter #27

How many wounds can a human body take Before it inevitably falls into ruin? Hundreds? Thousands? Millions, perhaps? As my wrists join my shoulders, Join my torso, join my chest, Join my ankles, join my toes, Join my neck, join my back, Join each and every lasting scrap Of what remains to be my face Dripping at an ever rapid pace I guess time shall try the test Seeking battle to heal it's best Before my demons rip me of all flesh A bag of bones in wait to be refreshed Sunlight, their everlasting summer At last red no longer the only colour I do not know which side I want to win I only know I no longer feel the hands of fear Only numbness and a longing for the air To hold every inch of me it cannot yet reach

Date Written: 23rd of September, 2023

Letter #26

She didn't know how to rest yet Hadn't learnt the point of growing up Curled lips and big bright eyes Vein attempts at masking her truth She built palaces with her words Enrapturing swarms with pretty lies Answer "I'm happy" in earnest when asked Naive to knowing emptiness isn't meant to fill If only charms didn't cost her a sense of self When rose coloured glasses lose their hue Tell me, what else is a young girl to do? She'll learn the lesson of life eventually Little by little, day by day, Time will tell every tale that shall come Each rose petal guiding her forward The future will change her pace Discovering what it means to slow down Dream in something other than clouds Her mind knew not of certainty No shining knight, no protective shield Mercy found only beyond towering walls As their creator, she shall soon be their end But refusing destruction beyond herself There is only so much a tender heart can mend A limbo she lives, hopelessly hopeful Spinning until she becomes spun So for now, let youth recklessly take her It's not a lesson you can teach her She has to learn it on her own

Date Written: 23rd of September, 2023

Letter #22

I stood at the beginning of the street My childhood home staring back at me Six lanes of heavy traffic between us A house you haven't lived in for years A house I have tried everything to forget Does your ghost still haunt it's walls Or did you find what you were looking for At the end of all those vices you sought An entire lifetime spent dormantly waiting Patient, silent, without cause for thought For a moment I set memories of you aside Absorbing all the fresh window cracks Every old fern I once planted in it's yard How lively those new neon curtains are Screaming eccentricity is a skill The passing of time is one merciless beast Worse for wear, yet it's warmth still sings With a bitter-sweet smile, I close my eyes Content to know the clock will continue It's a different home now, a new story My presence wouldn't fit there anymore And what a wonderful thing that is indeed Farewell, may we never meet again

Date Written: 10th of September, 2023

It was such an odd experience revisiting my old house.

I was simply on my way to a bus stop from my friend's place and entirely forgot what street I was on. I hadn't expected to see it, until I looked up to turn the corner and saw it there just staring back at me. Good memories, bad memories, mostly things I'd like to forget. All of it came back to me at once and it froze me for a moment. I hated life almost every moment I spent there, constantly in and out of psych wards growing up just wishing I didn't have to exist.. And it felt nice viewing it with eyes that no longer fueled themselves off of anguish. It felt really, really nice. My love for the sweet parts of my childhood will remain eternal, but never in a million years would I wish to go back. I like who I am now, I'm doing well and dare I say I almost feel human for once. The distance is home to me now, warm and forgiving. I'm grateful for the road between us.