POEM: The silence of friends

Is the silence deafening?
You seem anxious as you sprinkle your words in the stillness of this quiet room.

Is the silence comforting?
You seem peaceful as I watch you float from this place to a private world of your own.

Is the silence beautiful?
You seem pleased as you share this moment of quiet contemplation.

POEM: Myself

I had been searching, unsure for so long,
But I found myself recently;
It wasn’t a pleasant experience,
To find what I did not like to see.

I had struggled for so long, suppressing,
What I suppose was always me,
What I do not like to see,
From which I wish to be free.

POEM: This Heart

Oh my Lord,
keep this heart on Deen;
it struggles to remain constant, forever seeking
that soul with whom it's been.

So, dear Lord,
protect this fluttering heart;
it ceaselessly wavers, in hope as it searches
for that missing, complementary part.

And, my Lord,
answer this heart's cries;
help it see clearly beyond the glitter
that often dazzles its eyes.

And, dear Lord,
strengthen this heart in me;
give it patience while it must wait
for the one who holds its key.

Finally, my Lord,
make this heart clear,
about ALL that will bring it near
and will save it from weary tears.

Purchase "Unveiling" to read more of my poetry

POEM: The Dawn of Mercy

I was inspired to write this while being part of the Celebrate Mercy movement.

* * * * *

Did you know there is Wisdom in the alternation of the days
In the setting of the moon as the sun casts out its rays?
Did you know there is an Answer
To the Question that burns in our souls?

Rajo Fundraiser Performance - the story they didn't know...

I look at the clock - 12:20pm, implying there is less than six hours before I am expected at Morley Recreation Centre for the Rajo Fundraiser! I take a deep breath and glance at the printout of the poem I have written just for the night.

I still remember my initial telephone conversation with Alim those many weeks ago; I remember listening to him

Be careful what you wish for

I made a discovery on 11 June 2012.

I suppose this idea had been brewing in my mind for some time, but it was on this day that those small puzzle pieces of the past finally fell into place.

I discovered that I have been focussing on the wrong thing all this time. Being an emerging writer, trying to get a 'readership' is hard work - but it occurred to me on 11 June that

Morning Pages

On the 1 June 2012, a friend and I decided to begin "Morning Pages". What a fascinating journey it has been...

When I was younger, in primary and high-school, I used to keep a diary and write in it almost every day - but Morning Pages has been a completely new experience, so valuable for both my personal and work life.

I believe that when you decide on a goal to work towards and put it in writing, God helps you along your journey and Wills people and opportunities to cross your path that reinforce you in working towards your dreams.
So it was by 'chance' that

I love the number 13 =)

I love the number 13, especially when it falls on a Friday. It's an occasion that doesn't happen very often, so I think it's a time worth celebrating!

So, until Friday 13th of this month of July, my book will be on sale - 50% off!

To get your copy, simply:

POEM: Forever Dreaming

I just had the great pleasure of speaking to a lively bunch of my peers, from the Young Women's Leadership Program, facilitated by Alicia Curtis. This is a poem from my book that I had hoped they would relate to in their own journeys towards the realisation of their dreams.

* * *

Have you ever had a dream
That you never dared believe you could reach
That just too 'impossible' it seemed
And so only to Him, of those wishes, you would speak.

Yet have you arisen one day
From restless, unfulfilled sleep
To suddenly be feeling the rays
Of a hope you had hidden deep.

25 Random Things About Me

1. I would describe myself as a "blur" (which appears to make Wajma go into hysterics...hmm I haven't figured out why as yet...) - because I find I have just far TOO many RANDOM/varied/disconnected interests/passions. I find I enjoy doing/experiencing/learning about too many RANDOM things. I feel like a piece of me is/wants to be everywhere at once. And so I find great difficulty focusing my energies into just one thing...and thus, I am a BLUR :)
...And yet, upon reflection, I think I've worked out a purpose behind/connection between my otherwise apparent RANDOMness... Wallahu 'Alam :)

2. The one thing those who know me well will agree on as a quality I possess is: I am CRAZY! :P I am unpredictable

The Story Behind my First Book

Looking back, I am realising that it was not the days, but the pivotal moments that changed the course of my life.

After working in the community sector for nearly four years, I reached a stage where I felt I had exhausted my purpose and decided to only work till the end of my contract, but I was still unsure of what new direction to take.

I still remember the moment,

Listen and Trust

I was asked to talk at an International Women's Day event, held at the University of Western Australia. Truthfully, I was still trying to overcome a stubborn cough the past month. I don't know what I was thinking when I accepted the request; I guess I thought those extra 4 days before the event date itself may be enough time to recover...

Well, it wasn't! But do you know what the strange thing was?
The moment I walked in the lecture theatre

Beautiful Beginnings

Last night, I was privileged to witness the humble beginnings of Perth's first Youth Poetry Slam, hosted by City of Stirling's Sasa Mentorship Program.

I truly cannot find the words to describe what a beautiful night it was. The brave and talented youth who shared a part of their soul through their poetic words left a lasting impression on us all.
I'm honestly struggling to write complete sentences when I'm still left with that sweet 'feeling', like that sweet after-taste that lingers in your mouth after eating something appetising...

Two of the poets who performed last night feature in the promo film about the event, which you can view from my YouTube channel. Also in this video, I recite my poem, "Mother" that can be found in my book.

I am so excited about what is to come!
If you would like to be kept up to date about upcoming events I'm involved in, follow me on Twitter or like my Facebook page.

Why Poetry?

Writing in general has always been a source of comfort for me, theraputic in its process. But Poetry in particular is an especially unique avenue of expression that is both obvious yet mysterious, in which a handful of words sequenced in well-thought-out ways can have meanings deeper than the ocean. Poets are Artists, Paper their Canvas, Pen their Brush, and Words their Paint in all the colours of the rainbow.

Funnily enough, a poem I wrote recently, titled "My Silent Friend" describes exactly why I love Poetry as a form of expression.
In this poem, I talk about how writing/poetry is my Silent Friend who, "knows my secrets, the depth of my joys and sorrows; when others see my deceiving faces, only she and God hears of my hidden truths." (i.e. sometimes I may appear my normal self to the outside world, but Poetry learns of what may be heavy on my mind).

I go on to describe how poetry understands me and how exhausting

The Gift of Poetry

It's amazing how well-chosen words can create more meaning around something. My close friends all know that I like accompanying a gift with words to make the gift more memorable.
I once gave one of my single friends (who loved Brad Pitt and who hated being set-up by mutual friends) a t-shirt that said "Mrs Pitt", along with a note, "Just a small gift that I thought would be useful for you the next time someone tries to set you up; simply turn their attention to the words on your t-shirt and say, "Sorry, I'm taken." :-)

Other times, it is the words themselves that are priceless and the greatest gift you can give.

TIP: Acrostic Poetry using a person's name can be a great gift (well, if the person is the type who appreciates words). In general, having a letter to start the lines of your poem makes it quite a useful tool to give yourself a cue when you find yourself stuck on how to begin.

Here is an example of a poem I wrote and framed for a good friend and work colleague named Isabella.

I ntelligent, intuitive
S oft in speech

When Poetry was born (in my life at least)

To state the obvious, this week's theme is: Poetry

Let me begin by first looking back and recollecting the very first time I became interested in and began writing poetry...

To be honest, it was that long ago that I can't pinpoint the exact moment I began. However, I would say, as soon as I had learnt how to rhyme, I was writing poetry. One memory relating to poetry that sticks out in my mind was when I was in Year 3 in Primary School and I had to submit a poem to my teacher for Creative Writing. I still remember the opening lines of my silly, random poem that I had come up with on the spot:

Kenny the kicking kangaroo,

Purpose

I really don't like doing things aimlessly, without purpose... Even keeping this blog. Although my initial purpose for starting and keeping this blog going was for the sake of writing itself, I am realising that 'aimless writing' isn't enough of a purpose to motivate me to pick up my phone or switch on my laptop and start blogging.

There needs to be something more...

Perhaps a good place to start is looking at what makes me feel good, what interests and/or inspires me?

From the top of my head:

My Deen Islam
Love
Cars
Chocolate
HipHop

How we roll

I am realising that when you are a Muslim Hijabi chick, rollin' in City of Gosnells, you need to be armed with some HipHop...

I was on Tonkin Hwy a moment earlier in slow moving traffic when my ears caught the exchange between a bunch of young males (keyword: "males"), driving on the right lane beside me. They spoke and laughed loudly, having a conversation I think they intended for me to hear.

POEM: Freestyle

I usually don't "try" to write poetry; rather in a moment of inspiration or deep emotion, I discover thoughts becoming words that beg for an outlet, which develops into one of my poems! However, below is an example of one of those rare moments in which I decided I was going to take out my notebook and force myself to write something, anything, just for the sake of writing, in an attempt to conquer my writing drought. The poetic stream of consciousness written below came about during my travels in March 2011 while I was sitting on the plane with nothing much to do but write...

Putting pen to paper
Writing whatever comes to mind
Unsure of where these black lines forming words will lead

POEM: Australia - A land of beauty

I wrote this poem over 10 years ago, when I was 14 years old! It was such a long time ago, but I think it might've been for a school assignment for my English teacher whose name I still remember, Ms Phang. I thought it would be appropriate to share it today in the spirit of "Australia Day/Invasion Day/Survival Day".

As I stroll along the shore, my feet in the sand
The wind on my face, in a foreign land.
The sun in my eyes, the soft sound of the sea
And the curious stare, of a wallaby.

As I sit in the shade, of a tall gum tree
The crashing waves, I see before me.
The howl of the wind, and a kite flying high
Then as the sun sets, Southern Cross in the sky.

Iman/Faith is like...

...being deeply in love with someone who treats you as though you are the most precious thing in the universe; you just can't help wanting to

Humbled

I'm still overcoming the sweet feeling of being deeply touched...

Yesterday afternoon, I received a random email from someone who had purchased my book from iTunes but was having trouble viewing it on her personal computer. I replied with instructions to download an eBook reader such as Adobe Digital Editions.

In response to my email, after first thanking me for solving her issue, it truly was humbling

Let me be honest

Okay, I'm going to have to be honest...
Writing lately has been painful - too much a chore... It just hasn't been as enjoyable as it used to be.

So I can't help trying to think back to the times when writing was effortless... There must be a significant element I am currently missing. What exactly did I write about back then? Why was I motivated to write? Why did I feel a burning desire to write? What is the problem now?

(Sigh) Perhaps I'll try sleep on it...

Nostalgia

The past week has truly been an interesting one of unexpectedly remembering random things from my schooling days. From the novel collections I used to read, to the boy bands I used to love!

The funny thing about this past week is - since that moment I found myself beginning to think about those times, it's as if my thoughts have drawn in people and things that "take me back" even further to that period in my life.

For instance, just yesterday, while hanging out with a group of friends, somehow we began talking about the music we loved "back in the days"

The Chapter of Living

So I recently published my first book, Unveiling, which is a little bit like an 'autobiography', except that I decided to remain a bit of a mystery by instead sharing my life through my collection of poetry that I've written over the past 14 years. So while I believe my poetry does reflect my personal and spiritual growth, especially through the order I've placed them in, often poetry can be interpreted in various ways and thus they may be perceived differently from one reader to the next.

The past day or so, I was just remembering a statement made by one of my close friends, who was kind enough to proofread my book before I sent it for publishing. After reading the whole book, she said to me that when she got to the end, she couldn't help thinking, "What happen's next?"

Because like any life story, the story will continue until the traveller's last breath... 

(Actually, the story continues even after that last breath, but that's another discussion altogether.)

Thinking about all this just gave me an idea that I'm really excited about and that I plan to put into action very soon!

Claustrophobia

In this multicultural society we live in, it's important to be aware that sometimes, modern fashion can be a source of trauma for certain individuals!

Let us examine this piece of jewellery I came across just moments earlier.

At first sight, my initial thought was: "Wow, how funky is my friend to have chosen such a unique item for an accessory."

So you can just imagine my surprise to suddenly hear our mutual friend, who was sitting between us when she noticed the ring for the first time, suddenly exclaim

POEM: My Silent Friend

She knows my secrets
  The depth of my joys and sorrows
When others see my deceiving faces
  Only she and God hear of my hidden truths

She beckons me to offload my burdens
  But lets me be when she knows the strain
Knows the struggle to form the words
  To move the lips while the eyes shut in the rain

She is considerate, she is patient
  She knows the grievances of my heart
So light is the feeling after she takes my stresses
  And turns them into a work of art

Because she is my words that gush forth
  In songs and passages and poetry
She is my otherwise silent friend
  Who now waits dormant once again.

Purchase "Unveiling" to read more of my poetry

POEM: The space between the words of this title

It is a gift we all possess
  Yet is seldom given
It has no pricetag
  But it has a price
  Yet it is priceless

We have plenty of it
  Yet we have none
Or rather, we find comfort in telling ourselves that it has its own spirit that cannot be tamed
  Yet it very gladly gives in to us when with conviction, we clutch its reigns

We celebrate its progress
  Yet we mourn its inevitable end
It is our enemy
  It is our friend

It is found between these letters, these words, these stanzas
  Between each thought that formed these lines
Found in every day, hour that passes
  Yes - it is the falling sands of Time.

Purchase "Unveiling" to read more of my poetry

Writer's Block - be GONE!

I was just reflecting on how, up until 2007, I was writing almost every moment of the day. I was filling up notebook after notebook with my streams of consciousness, short stories and poetry. My mind was constantly awake, and would even awaken me in the middle of the night and urge me to write some significant thought that couldn't wait till the morning.

But since that fateful year of 2007, (I suppose because of the significant events of that year), suddenly the burning desire and 'need' to write just disappeared. And it just hasn't been the same since these past 4 years...

Nonetheless, instead of just sitting around as I have been, just thinking about how much I wish that damned disease of "Writer's Block" would just leave my system already, my intention for this new year of 2012 is