poemsbyninotaziz: September 2010

We look to the same sky

We look to the same blue sky

With our different hued eyes

Seeking out our dreams

And our basic human needs

We swim in the same sea

Like fishes on the reef

A lost lonely island

And here we all stand

Earth floats in space

Hearts meet in grace

I will hold your hand

You and I will understand

And while those who bicker, bicker

The wise gets younger and younger

The children, in all innocence

Embrace all differences...

Listen to their laughter...

Written for Thursday Think Tank over at Poets United

Have you been to the Willow Ball?

Ayu in Palmyra

Caravan city Palmyra

Older than the Book of Kings

Built by the prophet

In the desert

The city hovered

Upon clouds of sand

Hadrian, Zenobia

Khalid ibn Walid and civil wars

Shaped rule over Palmyra

Ayu from Aurea Chersonese

Captures the ruins

In perfect light

Centuries later...

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An old friend from school, Ayu was in Syria in September

And her photos (these are from Wikipedia) inspired this poem...

The tortured and tragic hero Raistlin

Young Raistlin, surrounded by love

Half-elven Tanis, woe-begone

Sister Kitiara and twin Caramon

At the Inn Of the Last Home

Black robed Raistlin, tortured by love

To save Krynn, he walked the path chosen
Magic alone deserved his devotion

His hourglass eyes, cursed by Par-Salian

All powerful Raistlin, denied all love

Even one of the white robed clerics

Crysania - together they entered the Abyss

To challenge the Dark Queen, Takhisis

Triumphant Raistlin, only truth and love

Convinced him, he'd be a god without Krynn
He gave it up, thus ended the life of Raistlin

He, who stopped the reign of the Queen

In death, redeemed by Paladine
Raistlin is now home at the Inn.

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A tribute to one of my favourite tragic heroes for One Shot Wednesday.

I haven't read the Dragonlance series for years though the books are shelved and dusted faithfully. Time for a good read in my favourite corner.

Remember The Time

Remember the time
Egyptian gods
Lived upon the Nile

Bees wax cones
Scented the night
Til dawn

Remember the times
Before ours
Ancient.

Unforgettable.

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This is a magpie tale. This week, I came up with two poems. For the first offering, check here.

By the way, are you attending the Willow Ball? I am getting ready here!

CYBER EVENT OF THE YEAR FOR POETS

The Willow Ball adventure...

I arrived in style
with the angelic
Leonard Whiting

and

the dashing and dreamy
Joseph Fiennes

Expect an evening of pure enchantment
elegant and witty repartees
courtesy of the hostess of the year, Willow

I love the Oriental cheongsam
and have chosen a divine black cheongsam for tonight

I am sure Coco Chanel would approve of my simple elegance.

I had such a wonderful time. Willow was absolutely the charming hostess making sure everyone felt welcome. I met Patience, Babs, Mary, Kristen, Sherry and got autographs from Hercule Poirot and Fyodor!

The best dress? Yoli's antler crowning glory dress.

Alan Rickman read poetry and Lady Gaga played Papparazi on the baby grand.

Magical.

But now it is time to kiss Leonard and Joseph goodnight at the door

and come home to darling Rudi.

Autumn, Gatineau Park

Image by my good friend, Simon Chook

Maple syrup, blueberry pancakes

Bicycle rides,racing downhill

Our laughter, in rippling wake

Picnics wherever we will

Fishing for river bass

Hooking three inch worms

Gingerly toes did test

Ice cold stream waters

Ashby my grey little kitten

Snug in my knapsack, nose cold

The crisp air had me smitten

Autumn made me bold!

We never met a bear that day

But they are there - or here?

Never run, slowly back away

We were told if bears appeared

My home for five years

And I never realised then

Brilliant red, gold and amber

The true beauty of autumn land!

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Written for Thursday Think Tank over at Poets United

A lovely memory from Autumn 1987

Liquid Gold

Sicilian citrus, lavender

Bulgarian rose, rosemary to remember
Verbena, sandalwood, vetiver

Ylang-ylang and cedar

Love forever...

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Magpile Tales Inspired

Hosted by Willow

Look out for the Willow Ball

The Song of the Princess

Lambang Sari - The Song of The Princess

Hiding from mortal gaze
Swaying to the gentle breeze
Princesses at rest and play
Bewitching music of bamboo reeds

Enchanted garden, their sanctuary
A charmed life of royal proportions
Yet many trapped deep within
Yearning for her heart's desires

The peace of the land their charge
To be presented to her new liege
As bride, with accompanying entourage
With gifts and a silver box of betel leaves

Like a candle in the wind
Giving light, yet burning within

Lambang Sari, gak puteri

Terlindung dari pandangan
Indah gerak tari puteri
Bagai di dalam kayangan
Inilah lagu Lambang Sari

Damai di taman larangan
Nasi di hidang, sanggul di cucuk
Tapi apakan daya impian
Hati sayang diri berkecamuk

Nusantara berbelah bagi
Raja dan Sultan bermuafakat
Puteri ditugaskan pergi
Negeri berdamai, janji terikat

Gak Puteri membakar diri

Comme une bougie

Caché par le regard mortel
Se balançant au vent doux
Princesse au repos et à jouer
Musique comme des roseaux de bambou

Une bougie dans le vent - il est magique
Si clair, mais se brûler ... tragique

A submission for One Shot Wednesday

over at One Stop Poetry

Love In Transit

Sunday best after a lifetime of struggles

Love found, too late to be comfortable

Despite the promise of the moon

To lose all too soon...

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Microfiction Mondays feature the shortest stories in tweetable 140 characters, or even fewer. Hosted weekly by Susan - it's a writers' playground!

Ancient ones - The Storytellers

I am ninotaziz

daughter of abang tik

daughter of chu rahmah

daughter of yang chik

daughter of bebunga

storytellers all

abang tik went to university

loves geography and history

her stories have time and place

rhythm and grace

she has lovely brown eyes

chu rahmah, a strict teacher

and always, loving grandmother

now bedridden, she forgets the stories

at her side, i recite favourite epics

her hazel eyes hold steady gaze

yang chik was a fiery woman

her husband a policeman

she spinned a tale for 3 days

for he went on duty for days

her eyes of grey bewitched him

bebunga's people from across the seas

her mother arrived in a nameless ship

bebunga told the hikayat stories

she left me this legacy of kinship

her purple irides - legendary.

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This is hastily written for the Thursday Think Tank over at Poets United - an exciting place to be

Sorry, I do not have pictures to go with this now. But the visual I chose is how I feel inside,

where my maternal mothers reside.

Dewi Tara dan Samaratungga

Samaratungga's daily struggle

To finish his father's temple

The Merapi in the distance rumbled

Work went on, his loyal people

For the Sailendra, time was running out

His people peace loving, were weakened

The Sanjaya was impatient and proud

They wished to conquer the island

Yet across the islands, in Srivijaya

In Dharmasetu's kingdom

The kraton guarded a lovely flower

Dewi Tara, his beautiful princess

Headstrong and wise was she

Named after the Goddess, a star

She heard of the pious prince

And fell in love with Samaratungga

From Palembang with entourage she traveled

Across the straits, through the island, Java

Messengers raced ahead, and the prince waited

For her to arrive in beautiful Sailendra

It was love at first sight for the two

As he took her hand, she smiled in secret

Sailendra and Srivijaya together ruled

And Sanjaya was forced to remain quiet

For a while...

For my version of the full story, continue here.

This poem was written specially for Magpie tales - a beautiful place to be

In ancient times, throughout the Nusantara, marriages between the royal houses were the best way to secure alliances. Between Sailendra, Srivijaya, then later Majapahit, Melaka and Langkasuka, princesses and princes travelled back and forth to buy peace. At the same time, culture, language and way of life meshed to create a beautiful heritage.

World Lie Broken

Lie broken in the garden
A terraccota pot of elements
Like the many world problems
Incessant waves of disagreements

A terracota pot of elements
Made whole with glue and sand
Incessant waves of disagreements
You and I can put to an end

Made whole with glue and sand
Beautiful and useful once again
You and I can put to an end
If we put together our hearts, our hands

Do not let all turn to grainy sand...

Tempayan pecah

Tempayan pecah di legar taman
Di tengah panas, di siram hujan
Ancaman dunia, wahai teman
Bertambah kancah, bertambah bentan

Di tengah panas, disiram hujan
Sudah bersepai zaman berzaman
Bertambah kancah, bertambah bentan
Hingga di belai jiwa budiman

Sudah bersepai zaman berzaman
Marilah tampal dan betulkan
Biar dibelai jiwa budiman
Sebelum terlambat, jangan biarkan

Retak seribu jangan biarkan...

Un pot de terre

Fait tout avec du sable et de la colle
Un pot de terre cuite beau à nouveau

Nous pouvons arrêter tous les problèmes

Si nous mettons tout notre cœur, nos mains

Ne le laissez pas trop tard, mon cher

Regardez et voyez la vérité

Adapted for One Shot Wednesday - an exciting pot-pourri of the best poetry
over at One Shot Poetry

The Window Pane

Magpie#31

I am the owner
of the window pane
Time - I, forever
Snow, haze and rain

Ancient forest majestic
Only to be razed
Failed by druid magic
When Man ceased to be afraid

Cities rose just as strong
Yet war tore them down
Children cried, hunger thronged
Time judged and frowned

Slowly demolition ruled
A world dank and grey
Time looked to the moon
Visions of the forest stayed

From the window pane
The moon and I shared secrets
Whatever Man throws my way
We are the sanctuary of the sacred...
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The Magpie Tales - a beautiful place to be

Invisible Walls

Invisible walls
Surround one and all -
Inherent nature of man.
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Find other great submissions to Poets United Thursday Think Tank here.

Urashimataro's tale of hopeless love

Urashimataro at sea
Begged the wild turtle
As the waves swooned...

Deliver me!
To my love, good friend
Either way, I am doomed.

Insanity

Leina cheerfully placed her latest copy of Vanity Fair on her breakfast table.

She had just taken a bite of her apple when suddenly ,"Blank."

The smell of the garden and the morning dew escaped from the huge bite she took going deep into her, it smelt like the house of the Seven Dwarves. She looked at the apple as if she was surprised to see how it got there. Absentmindedly, she placed the apple on her magazine. The sunlight bounced off the apple giving it a shiny sheen.

She looked around. Everything was unfamiliar. The windows were too bright and casted long shadows everywhere.

She closed the shutters. The air was chilly.

She said aloud, "I...." then realised, "Who am I?"

Two days later, the apple was still on the table. The door was left unlocked. The shutters were open again. And she had disappeared into the city.

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The Magpie tales, hosted by Willow - a beautiful place to be