My flawed warm blanket

You are running
Like a terrified child
Trapped in the intricate
darkness,
While I am
running after you
Offering my warm blanket
That is adorned with patches,
Hoping to shield you
from the coldness
that often haunts us
like a restless ghoul.
You keep running
like the gushing river.
When are you going to stop?
Will you ever shroud yourself in my flawed
warm blanket?
Perhaps, there might
be a time
where I stop
running and toss
that blanket into
the bottomless sea.

-Nuruljannah-

An Artist in Love

One of my favourite poems by Lang Leav. She has described perfectly my situation with her beautiful poignant words.

I see you everywhere

Well, it sucks to miss someone who doesn't miss you at all or even think about you. I always feel I'm pathetic. So, that's why I love to channel my pathetic emotions into pathetic poetry. Here goes:

I see you everywhere

I see you everywhere,
In discordant noises,
In men who wear a white shirt
Or dark colours,
In women who don colourful clothes,
In kids who guffaw,
As all of them have fused
Into the form of
you.

-Nuruljannah-

Unfathomable

I wish I could describe,
And choose the perfect words,
To paint my vivid feelings,
To make you fathom,
This unfathomable heart.

I wish I could pour out,
These pent-up emotions,
Like strong coffee into a cup,
To make you taste my
Imperceptible pain,
The pain of seeing
This red rose blooms,
Burgeoning day by day
Despite your absence.

I know you will never reap and keep,
And see its tears seep,
But there it still grows for
You.

-Nuruljannah-

The Real Poetry

Composing a poem is not about the rhyme,
Or like contriving a perfect crime,
It is not a mere obfuscation,
Or to accentuate your sophistication.
It is to express and not to impress,
Venting emotions which are suppressed.
Let it go effusively even in a free verse
And you don’t have to rehearse.
Spew all of them out,
Despite what they are about.
Don’t hesitate or say later,
Because you will feel much much better,
Express yourself and be free,
This is what I called the real poetry.

-Nuruljannah-

Communication

Composing a beautiful poem is like me courting a man (which obviously I'm baad at it!) . They even sound trying too hard to be a poem. Nevertheless, I am writing my poems based on my mawkish soul, emotion,(the main ingredient of course) and hormonal imbalance.

Roberst Frost, Pablo Neruda, Jalal ad-Din Muhammad Rumi, Charles Bukowski (I'm just have fallen in love with his poetry) and Lang Leav are my favourite poets and I really wish I could express beautifully like them.
But my poems are like a loser who wants desperately to be a popular girl.

Oh well, I will still write, write and write till you puke, puke and puke. My poems are mostly maudlin, remember? But what the heck, here goes:


Communication
Sometimes, eyes speak louder
Like deafening thunder,
I wish you could see them,
Without the noises
In your head.
I wish you could hear me
Communicating with you,
Through my silence and
my eyes.

-Nuruljannah-

Suffocation

Suffocation

These unspoken feelings,
Wrap their chilly fingers around my neck
Like a noose.

-Nuruljannah-