Poetry, Thinker

Nightmare

One day looking at the night sky,
I closed my eyes,
Resting on the fluffy mattress,
Sensing the cool wind,
My soul took me to the forest of illusion,
Driving in the shades of brown and lush,
Falling in the tones of darkness,
Of vulnerability,
Cheerful birds singing and lending paths,
Scenting the serenity in my heart,
Smelling the taste with all my senses,
Feeling harmony in an eternity,
Seizing the composition in the mind,
I felt free and alive.
But suddenly I was pushed into reality,
Community and cities full of people’s misery,
Some crying for loss,
Some killing for a better future,
Some suffering in silence,
Some intertwined in the chaos,
But we all are lost and made this kind of nightmare,
We have freedom but we are not free.

And I gradually open my eyes and screamed for a while,begging myself and still wondering when did I lose my forest of illusion into a hysterical reality?

I keep wondering why some of us spare silence and sacrifice our values and beliefs while this is the moment to speak one’s mind,we are creating illusions for a better future rather than making a better present. 

Poetry

Endlessness

Once upon a time,
In the 21st century,
As our lives are entangled in city glow,
With our mobile screens, laptops, and social brag,
With our vigorous lives, anxiety, and outrage.
Being an old soul heart,
I rescue from the tangible jungle to uncover a place,
An impression bound forever,
Full of darkness,
Deserted lands,
A quest with pizza and cigarettes,
A stillness of music,
Where breezes can be heard,
Where stars can be tickled,
Where silence can be understood,
Feeling fragile and empty,
I look at the sky,
Full of twinkling stars,
Dancing, crawling, jumping, running,
In the shadow of a silhouette,
In the blinking of glimmers,
Howling and whining,
To just pause and feel what you feel,
To lose yourself in the chaos of infinity,
Touching the moment,
With stardust,


To stare endlessness…

Poetry

Diversity

The cup of tea and deep conversations.
Or
The bottle of whiskey and few mixtures.

The silence and the rhythm of birds.
Or
Partying and dancing with the unconscious mind.

Laughing at old photographs and creating memories.
Or
Crying at old love and feeling broken.

Pausing the dusk and capturing the silhouette.
Or
Watching Netflix and narrating the mundane.

Staring at stars and knowing the existence.
Or
Noticing the ceiling and whine.

The journey of existence.
Or
The index of life.

Depends on choices,
Sometimes with the right judgments,
Sometimes with the regrets,
Sometimes with the incomplete story,
Sometimes with the chaos,

And yet sometimes,
We remember to be,
Happy in a moment.
And that makes a difference.

Poetry

Losing Humanity

When I was a kid,
I used to travel with my dad,
And I remember the chaotic city,
Where no stars were noticeable but colorful lights,
Where no trees were visible but tall building,
Where no rivers or valleys were evident but ponds or lakes,
Where no one is smiling but full of people all around,
Dealing with anxiety, depression, and chaos,
Children running here and there,
On the busy roads,
Trading balloons,
Poor mother waiting for children and an alcoholic husband,
Sleeping with an empty stomach.
And I wonder why are we suffering?
Why are we so inhumane?
We have evolved so much,
That values and ethics,
From our ancestors is lost,
We have evolved so much,
That respect and care,
For one another is lost,
We have evolved so much,
That sharing knowledge and understanding,
Replenished with opportunities is lost,
Evolution brought change,
And we are sitting and watching it.
Being Inhumane,
It just takes one hand to help another hand,
It just takes one idea to bring change,
It just takes oneself for standing responsible,
It just takes one approach for humanity,
Its time to be responsive for ourselves and future eras.
Before everything is lost, as lost is lost.