Melancholic Experiences
i.
Debilitated soul
I rest my debilitated
soul against the cruel dejection
of thoughts that transformed
the beauty of the blue,
caressed
by the moonlight to a thunderous,
forsaken night sky.
The blue emits darkness
yet the stars decorate
it with such lustre,
that once were aligned
to guide my soul to a spot
created for my weary heart.
The sky cries,
fills the streets and yet to be
beautiful gardens with undefined
tears,
yet it nourishes every little thing
but its own soul.
Am I comparable to the sky?
I shine brightly to hide my
sentiment, don’t I?
I am glistening to enlighten your world,
Before doing so to mine.
I am filling your soul with pure rapture,
I am engraving joy in your heart,
I am making you long for my constant
Blissful radiance-why;
I am feeding off your joy,
because it is hard for my soul to find
its own felicity between all of
these stars, staring right through me,
since all of them are beyond my reach.
ii.
Haven
I fell deep into the sea
of melancholy, with
despairing memories
that made it seem convenient
for me to drown in my own
notions.
There was no force of
hope surrounding me,
until I saw you.
My own haven.
I saw you
evolve from something
so vacant,
to a soul filled with optimism.
You shot me a look
of affirmation, and something
deep within my heart altered;
it was a switch of hope.
I felt my soul transform
into a vigorous form,
and as I swam back up,
I saw the sunshine
that was trapped
under my darkness.
iii.
The Sea and the Stars.
I have received your letters,
but they are yet to be revealed
to my heart.
Exposing my heart
to such a woeful augury
of self disruption will only
bring dullness into my
doleful universe.
My twilight,
I ask myself,
why are you so beautiful
to my eyes,
but detrimental to my heart?
I cannot help but gaze,
and yearn for your longing.
My eyes have been deceiving me,
and they have been covering your
flaws with a shield.
I can feel the raindrops trickling
against my lonely hands,
as I am watching the broken-hearted
sun disappear.
I shiver as I
watch you leave,
I reach out to you,
but I am aware that I will never
get a response.
I have received your letters,
but I chose to return them to the sea,
because it is closer to you
than I will ever be.
Your words have been written all over the sea,
and my tears,
which are now the stars that you see,
is the response I never had
the heart to tell you.
iv.
Canvas
I used to be a pen
and you were my ink.
I remember when my canvas
was plain and clear.
It had no words,
no marks,
no heartbreaking
and destructive memories.
You marked my canvas
with such captivating fondness,
and pure endearment.
Unfortunately,
you also marked it with gut- wrenching memories
that were slowly killing me.
Therefore,
I decided to use up all the ink I have taken from you,
I started composing more joyful events,
more invigorating reverence and ardour,
and that took such time,
and exhaustion.
Once my canvas was filled, I tore it off and got a new one,
a one so blank,
and so clean,
so pure,
that will only be used
by who deserves it.
v.
Your Soul
I felt the warm wind,
caress my bones as I
stared at my heart-wrenching reflection
on the lakes’ surface.
A soul managed to embrace my broken heart without
the use of a touch or words.
A soul managed to attract the different colors
of butterflies to rest on my
helpless bones and disguise them from
their saddening state.
A soul managed to replace
the darkness with a striking
light that shined through me.
A soul shot me with an arrow of hope
through my shattered heart,
that killed the melancholia
out of the bones of a helpful soul,
that stared at the lakes’ surface
to somehow breathe.
The lakes’ surface captured
the colors that radiated from my heart,
and it left with the memory of happiness
I never had.
The person who has composed these poems goes by the name of Shamma Alnuaimi. She is an Emirati, living in the city of Dubai. Poetry was not an interest of hers until the age of 16, where she reached a point of needing a way of expressing her thoughts, to pinpoint her feelings about life. Through poetry, she has managed to grow into a positivity enthusiast who strives to encourage, motivate, and guide others. At 20, she has gained an audience through a social platform, where she spreads words of encouragement, and to be there for whoever may need help, but cannot ask for it. Poetry is considered therapeutic and helps her carefully analyze her success, failures, concerns into words that could relate to those who feel the same way, but do not know how to heal, or feel joy. The year 2016 embarked on the beginning of a helpless writer, to a more influential poet with a healthier mindset throughout the years.
You can find Shamma on Instagram, Twitter, or through her Tumblr.
Work edited by Rawa Majdi
Collage created by Arwa Al Shamsi