Young Writers Society

hi rida! i love how descriptive your poems are. the sensory imagery you use throughout just about everything you've written so far adds a punch to your poems. beautiful work!

i think my favorite piece (if i had to pick) would be Prepare Yourself. it's simple and raw, getting straight to the point. the determination of the speaker's voice is translated through the words extremely well.

I can't wait to see what else you have for us. Happy NaPo!
~atlas

Thank youuuuu! ^_^ I’m really, really glad you enjoy my poems!

Hey NaPo buddy! I'm really enjoying your imagery in these and how your poems are able to zoom into these little objects and moments and bring emotion and wonder to them! You're also touching on so many different themes in your poetry from doubt, to nature, to writing.

I enjoy the pieces where you play with color and/or formatting a little too like in "little drops of water" the parenthesis aligned to the right felt like a little echo-aside for the poem, or a second layer to develop each image.

One poem I found particularaly intriguing was "Seeking Perfection" - the opening image is so unexpected!

Does the sun
Ooze into the ocean
(Like slime oozing down rough cave walls)
To search for
The unreachable
Perfection
Too?

AHH how interesting!! Keep up the great work rida! <333

Thank you! ^_^
I’m really happy you enjoy my poems!

The moon peaks
Into my window
Like a curios child,
Eavesdropping on
Silent conversations

I slip into
My most comfortable position
My hands poised on my laptop
Itching to etch poetry
Into my laptop’s code

I sigh contently
Smiling to myself,
Readying my slim fingers
On the keys


I start by writing
‘Untitled’
At the centre
Neatly in
Verdana font


I smile at the
Neatness
And flatter myself
With a few words of
Praise

I draw in a sharp breath
A few sweat beads
Embracing my
Cold, dry skin


My heart beats a little faster
As I begin to wonder
If anyone would like this poem


I shake it away
With a laugh
(Did I really shake it away?
Or is it still hanging on to my heart,
Like dewdrops on

Heavy leaves
Wilting under
The slight pressure of
Crystal rain)

My hands shiver slightly
Moistening my skin
With unfinished sweat beads
As I type in the first few words:

“The sun burns as my skin sizzles”

Doesn’t this sound like a cliché?

I type another sentence
My thoughts
Tugging at my heart
Teasing
Me

I stop for a moment,
My anxious eyes
Scanning the bright screen

One stanza complete


I sip into my coffee
A few dying waves
Dancing from it


The owl cocks its head
Large depthless brown eyes
Gazing into the
Truths in my heart

He fluffs his feathers
Wondering why
Petty poets
Seek perfection
In a poetry that isn’t meant to seek perfection


I finish the poem

But a doubt
Caresses my heart
Stroking it gently


My fingers rest in
A familiar position
~frozen in mid-air


Nervously I
Click on the enter key
Submitting this poem
In my NaPo thread




I inhale slowly
Air finally racing into
My numb lungs
Blood finally swimming into
My veins

I read my poem again,
Making sure
The poem wasn’t a mirror
Against my heart


Making sure
It had enough metaphors
And imagery
To be classified
Perfect


I lie back my head,
My hairs
Choking the pillow

Another poem done
Another day done

II.
The darkness
Licks my surroundings
My neat brown hair
Dipping in slight-illumination,
Like the crescent moon
Slipping on the brink of
Twilight

My nail-polished bare feet
Illuminate a circle of light
And the bathroom-tiled floor
Reminds me of
My little flat
Somewhere on the other edge of
Reality

Near me
Stands a little coffee-table
Quite like the one I had
Before it was swept away
By time

The coffee table
Is decorated with
A single rose
Dying in
Ice-cold water
And a few pebbles

Beneath the rose
A folded paper
With childish drawings
(Reminding me of crayon childhood)
Flaps innocently
Beneath the ticks of a ceiling fan
Spinning infinity into its
Endless rounds

“Get well soon!”
Plastered on the card
with
Crayons on the top
A smiley face to accompany
:D

I recognise my
Son
In the crayon edges
Imagining his little hand
Carve out little hearts
On the borders of the card
(At least, I hope it’s him)

A faint beeping
Suddenly echoes through the
Dark depthless walls
As if warning me...

I press my hand
To the withering skin
Of my chest

My numb fingers
Don’t feel the
Tic, tic
Of the little clock
Pumping its gears on my chest

And with bitter truthfulness
I realise
I’m a hollow body

My smile fades
Fear curling into
The hollow space
I called a heart

With a sudden pain
(Like a frost bitten sword
Plunging into
My heart
And dipping into
Hot blood)
I float high
Suspended in mid-air

And somehow
Somewhere in the
Hollow walls of
My bones
I know what’s happening

I listen to the
Last beeping of
The heartless machine
Recording my heartbeat

A flat line
A single, long beep

I fly past
Into unknown secrets

I had breathed my last

The sun
Crawls out of
Her bed,
Stretching
And dreaming about
Happy endings

The moon
Sips into another night
Hidden somewhere
In another corner of the world
Casting starless hours of dark
In another town of hopelessness
And dreaming about
Hope

The writer
Sits by her notebook
Sketching reality into
Fantasy and
Hoping to somehow unravel this
Into her life

They dream,
Drooling infinity
Into scattered pages
And whispering midnight ink
Stain the scattered
Papyrus
(And if you ever wondered how, my dear
Than this is how poems were made)

The dreams
Hang
Onto silver branches
Of golden trees
Daydreams

The wind
Muses over
Their scarless courage
And chuckles to herself
(Like the stars
Bloodthirsty,
Manipulating heroes
Into villains)

And then the wind
Swoops down
Upon her preys
Subtly the dreams dance
Like the wind chimes
And then they shatter down
Fragments of
What the dreamers thought
Was immortality....

The moon
Goes back to her daily routines
She’d dreamed once
But she was wiser now
Dreaming is for children
Who believe in fairytales...

The sun
Burns into
An almost disappointed sunset
Trying to tell others
That happy endings are
As fake as
Love

The writer
Sets down her notebook,
Knowing writing
Is fantasy
And fantasy is
A weed

Somewhere
In some corner
Of their hearts
They hope, yet again
And this time,
They wish....

The wind leaves them,
Knowing her work is done,
The fools could never hope again...

The wish
Swims into
The dreams of
Others...
And the universe
Smiles
Granting those wishes,
(She is wise enough,
She believes in
Those who hope,
Who wish,
And who dare to work on their hope)

Somewhere
A fire crackles
Somewhere
Hope is born...
Somewhere,
Happy endings dance...
Somewhere,
Fantasy kisses reality...

Somewhere
Wishes are granted

The sun rolls into a sunset
Over still, dead towers
Burning low
Like the fire that used to dance here


The wind breathes into a lonely park
Swinging on unused swings
Sighing through empty streets
Wondering what happened


The world is still

Welcome to 2020

You may not like my poetry very much
But then again, I don’t need you to
Just like I don’t need you
To find myself
Just like I don’t need you
To find my life
Just like I don’t need you
To find joy
Just like I don’t need you
To complete myself
Just like I don’t need you
To sip into happiness
Just like I don’t need you
To know my own worth
Just like I don’t need you
To live my own life

But somehow,
I do....

. The moon
Slips into the night,
Hanging crooked on the sky,
And sipping dreams from innocent children

The stars
Glisten faintly,
As if struggling to stay alive,
Then sigh
Hiding behind clouds,
Giving up on their resolutions

A lamplight,
Flickers
Its light shuddering,
As the wind skips along the alleyway
Singing lullabies to street cats

A little girl
Sits by her window
Singing her own melody
To corpses of fairytales,
Her little finger
Trying to trace a happy ending
To the midnight sky

Her finger trails to the edges of infinity

GIF source: https://mini-moss.tumblr.com/post/62991 ... print-shop

The raindrops
Drown into shallow pools,
Dissipating
Into murky waters
And hopeless dreams.

Leaves
Wilt under crystal dew drops
A butterfly
Sips water
From gloomy plants.

A moan
Echoes through the forest,
Fading into
Light drizzles.

I sit by the window,
Watching yet another day
Die slowly.













GIF source: https://mini-moss.tumblr.com/post/18922 ... gram-print

poem co-written with @alliyah | star-chasing and falling dreams



Nighttime wonders

I watch a bird
Sink into the stars,
Skilfully streaking the midnight,
Dipping his wings into
The cold water,
Slowly falling in love
With the night.

An owl
Sits on an oak tree,
Embracing her children,
Her large brown eyes overflowing with love.

The trees
Sing woodland lullabies
To the birds.
A cricket joins in,
Laughing merrily about
Old times.

The waters
Of a pond
Ripple in the still dead wind,
Juggling their own wise dance
A loneliness
Carved into silent music.

The fireflies
Dance merrily near nettle grass,
Igniting damp dark hearts
With hope.

I smile,
Enjoying the
Nighttime wonders