April 01, 2020

Red Lipstick - d'Verse Poets

She does not know her strength 
When I met her first time wearing her red veil
Shouting against oppressors 
I did not know they existed 

She fought for woman, workers, poor people
and children in need. I was exited.

With her nothing was the same, 
What she did, say and act for 
made no sense to me
Just lots of anger
and more anger

But I cared, even when she became red 
Screaming for better life for all of us. 
I learned that her redness was her statement
To make someone's blood boil

Her friends blamed me,
I needed her strength for fight 
With me she glows, then she make me smile
Right before she puts on her red lipstick 


It's been 3 years since last time I posted something on my blog. I missed d'Verse Poets. This time we are celebrating the color RED. d'Verse Poets

For more see  My Old d'Vers Poems

ShadiatiQue © 2010-2020

April 05, 2017

Remembering & Witnessing

Remembering & Witnessing - d'Verse Poets

I am a human being bored of thinking 
I wake up in my days of health 
To continue in  my wandering
From the suburbs of remembering and witnessing
too proud of the wound.
So I smile. 

Forgetfulness is living in a gloom
I have learned from the arrogance of my wounds.

I refuse to be ...
Just white papers in the anniversary book

I refuse to be ...
Just a drowned with no fear of the wetness!

Hey (I) female ... I resign!
Of the possibilities of life!
From speculation of your femininity

Hey (I) female, in my inspiration
it is like an olive tree
that is heavy of snow

I live in the slums of the massacres
To become a dam in the wind.
So I smile. 


Shared with Open Link Night
d'Verse Poets' Pub,
ShadiatiQue © 2010-2017
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January 27, 2017

Under your Shades

My way of being with you is not just
understanding, compatibility,
integration of two minds,

It is also relaxing my instinct to another 
on our good-natured amiability for complete existence.

My existence ...
each of us does not ask for something from the other
We give and do not ask ..
I want to see my beloved as it is .. no more.

I do not find the need to lie 
or claim or act while I feel safe next to you
I feel that home is where I is resting under your shade, 
Where you are water, food and a comfortable loved bed.

This sense of being home and sufficiency 
is the one who gives me a sense of security 
Then I don't need all the people around me.

My existence ...
Sincerity is not even an agreement or contract
It happens on its own when both lovers feel that 
They're is filled with each other, 

Then as they realize there is no place in heart for another, 
The same second, the love wakes in them
to discover that is a sincere .. 
and that their mind is limited to one person.

As my sincere love.

A new poem for the dVerse Poet's Pub

ShadiatiQue © 2010-2017
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August 13, 2016

The Woman I killed a little


I am like that rebellious teen
That experiences and always is keen 
To make mistakes and sin
Yet I never let the pace ever bump 

Untill I bump into a woman 
Pure, loveable and kind
But I leave her behind 
Like a doll hugging every teardrop

Signs of her memory stays 
In my heart and gives me the stirs
The teenage me dries out of tears

Tell me how to hope back and forth
Behind my face a woman I don't know 
While imprisoned within my affliction 
and loneliness

Her features are carved with poisoned hunger
The memory of her laugh pursuits me
to kill me in the darkness

You my kind hearted the fault is mine
I committed death to waste time
Let the sleep come to my side 
And give mercy to my tired face 
Sadness I received early on my age
Is the only thing I can give away.

ShadiatiQue © 2010-2016 
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November 13, 2015

The Art of Weeping - #OLN

Let's draw around us
a world that's so brat
and unbelievably sad
as it would clear the sky
for our only dance.

Our sadness and sorrow
will let our love grow
Over the limits of the Chandelier

When we collaps, we will enter 
a deep silence in the heart 
Where we will improvise tears 

Improvisations in thousand ways
The more weeping episodes we have
The more we will increas our
love's glance through the Chandelier

We will ask the waiter
To fill the cups of wailing
We will cry and tear.

If the wail takes long
It will be the finest flow
better than the Giggles of fools.

Weep out with me  
The tragedy of life 
From the depth of my heart

Let the sad tune
be our new ideology
Let us cry without interruption

© 2010 

An old poem shared with dVerse poets #OLN

September 25, 2015

Wipe, bring back - For refugees

It's a helpeless round
How I start to write, then wipe all out
My words wouldn't do anything.
I will not wipe tears
bring back the dead 
nor will remove hurts.
I will not even feed a hungry 
will not bring a child back to his mommy

It's a hopeless situation
To know that you're not the master of your home
To follow others like I do on Instagram
Only here I wish I could press "like"

So, I'm sad 
As the demolished homes
As the scattered souls of parents
Sad for being a friend, and not being able to help
Sad for every brother and sister separated
and for that old man not being able to die in peace 

For refugees around the world. 
For Syria, my extremely helplessness

ShadiatiQue © 2010-2015
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August 14, 2015

Echo Tension - Echo Verse

Until we all see
Echo - C

No hate will do good
Echo - hood

So my friend stay
Echo - Pray

Question your work and intentions
Echo - Tensions

Mirror yourself 
Echo - Elf 

Face your fears 
Echo - Tears

Not allow them to question you 
Echo - As you


Shared with -  d’Verse Poetics – 
Meeting The Bar - Echo Verse

ShadiatiQue © 2010-2015 
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Burlesque -

Does he ever hear you?
When you take that position,
When you make that face
close your eyes
fold your hands
turn to him like that.
Does he ever hear you,
or does he ever say something back to you?

When you face the forgiver,
and ask to settle this turbulence in heart.
I hear you, even tho'
your prayers are not for me 
I hear you, as if it's like emulation
as if I'm in between this echo of simulation. 

Turn to me, I might change 
this burlesque in life.
Face me, close your eyes.

ShadiatiQue © 2010-2015
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April 11, 2015

Wandering - Falling 2 -

Once they asked me
If I still believe, that the Creator 
may have created many more others than her. 
All I know that he created me only for her.

What I know is that
I'm a veteran that returned
My spear rebelled against me
Mourning the poets of battles
Nothing but her can be seen
Locked inside or blocked by her beauty.

All I know is I'm only for her.
Humble words surrended for her
While I gave up my sheild
To fall, to rebel
To know that No formation
Can hold me in.

Read also - Wandering Spirits Falling 1 -

Shared with dVerse - OLN
ShadiatiQue © 2010-2015
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March 09, 2015

Longing - Unbearable Words

Longing has it's own language
That don't pronounce admonition
Nor recognize blaming,

Language that's more than words
as it's not only seduction
but feelings pure and humble.

ShadiatiQue © 2010-2015
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