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

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

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
dversepoets.com/

ShadiatiQue © 2010-2017

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 

 

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

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

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 

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

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

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