When I was a child with a broad smile
They told me “To find the springs
Of everything, you have to follow its trace,
And right there, you will catch the groove
From which it did burst, then do regulate
Or even tune it to naught.”
And as I grew old and the smile began to fade,
In one night of no moon
A stream flowing over my cheek I caught
From my wet eyes till my face drowned,
And then, their words through my mind rolled
And with shaking hands my eyes wiped
Once, twice and more, but
Couldn’t regulate such stream
As from deep within a fountain
Started to weep out my pain,
And I had nothing to do
But hoping for a soft whisper
To allay such inflaming fire;
For voices loud cannot the whining soul stir
As people’s words don’t always inspire.
When the sky is cracked in light blue
And sun quivers its gilded rays
Revealing life’s secrets,
Please, firmly shut my eyes!
For what I’ve already known is enough.
Trepidation of more light and truth,
Made me addicted to the night;
With its pale beams and heavy silence
And tiredness coloring all its corners.
However, eye of the sun isn’t merciful
And wherever you go or hide
It tracks your feeble steps stealthy,
Then shouts and re-echoes in all around.
While with shut eyes,
I am neither alive nor dead;
On a border line that I can never admit
Whether I’ve ever lived before,
Or in benightedness, my forthcoming days should be spent.
” You own everything that happened to you. Tell your stories. If people wanted you to write warmly about them, they should have behaved better.” Anne Lamott.
“Mistakes are the portals of discovery.” James Joyce
“And by the way, everything in life is writable about if you have the outgoing guts to do it, and the imagination to improvise. The worst enemy to creativity is self-doubt.” Sylvia Plath
“Write what disturbs you, what you fear, what you haven’t been willing to speak about, be willing to be split open.” Natalie Goldberg
” I write to give myself strength. I write to be the characters that I am not. I write to explore all the things I am afraid of.” Joss Whedon
” The role of a writer is not to say what we all can say, but what we are unable to say.”Anaïs Nin
“Better to write for yourself and have no public, than to write for public and have no self.”Cyril Connolly
“You cannot blame a writer for what the characters say.” Truman Capote
“I write entirely to find out what I am thinking, what I am looking at, what I see and what it means. What I want and what I fear.” Joan Didion
“Nothing haunts us like the things we don’t say.”Mitch Albom
“Sometimes people think they know you. They know a few facts about you, and they piece you together in a way that makes sense to them. And if you don’t know yourself very well, you might even believe that they are right. But the truth is, that isn’t you. That isn’t you at all.”
I had read once on a sign by the road,
How can love riddles ever change one’s life?!
I stood for moments with a narrowed eye
To put my reasons in order;
From how it makes heart miss its beats
And deprive eye of any wink;
Moreover, controlling sighs and tears
And no more any of them become yours,
But all is devoted to a mysterious feeling
That turns your life upside down at a glance
And then, it is hard to imagine
What a tender touch could cause,
As it would be hard and unfathomable
For those inquiring hands?
The moon stayed all the night
Behind a black curtain of inflaming fire,
While a passing cloud did veil every beam,
And drove away all night’s charm;
Left in the whole sight nothing
But one only shining star
That sent a dim light to the eye.
Then in a jiffy,
I heard a whining voice echoing everywhere,
And as I drew the curtain aside
I still could see nothing,
But as I shifted my eye to the dark sky
I found the only shining star and night’s luster
Have all passed away.