My Humble Letter

You deserve to be happy
You deserve to breathe in the sunlight
You deserves colors, flowers and light
You should know that your mistakes don’t define you;
they are nothing but forgotten past

You should learn to let go
Let go of everything that weighs you down
You are better than this, you will not drown
You deserve to enjoy every song you listen to
even the ones you don’t know

Do not hang on to the storms that have finally calmed
You have suffered for so long that you forgot what it’s like
to be happy
I know, but it’s over now
You are never more breathtaking than when you’re happy
You deserve all the good things out there waiting for you

You deserve to be happy
enough to dance with strangers
and become the light
when they expect you to be dark

© 2014 ALIA SULTAN

Via: Tumblr (Unknown Source)

Via: Tumblr (Unknown Source)

لا شيء بعدك

لأنك سر..

وكل حياتي مشاع.. مشاع..

ستبقين خلف كهوف الظلام

طقوسا.. ووهما

عناق سحاب.. ونجوى شعاع..

فلا أنت أرض..

ولا أنت بحر

ولا أنت لقيا..

تطوف عليها ظلال الوداع

وتبقين خلف حدود الحياة

طريقا.. وأمنا

وإن كان عمري ضياعا.. ضياع

* * *

لأنك سر

وكل حياتي مشاع مشاع..

فأرضي استبيحت..

وما عدت أملك فيها ذراع

كأني قطار

يسافر فيه جميع البشر..

فقاطرة لا تمل الدموع

وأخرى تهيم عليها الشموع

وأيام عمري غناوي السفر..

* * *

أعود إليك إذا ما سئمت

زمانا جحودا..

تكسر صوتي على راحتيه..

وبين عيونك لا امتهن..

وأشعر أن الزمان الجحود

سينجب يوما زمانا بريئا..

ونحيا زمانا.. غير الزمن

عرفت كثيرا..

وجربت في الحرب كل السيوف

وعدت مع الليل كهلا هزيلا

دماء وصمت وحزن.. وخوف

جنودي خانوا.. فأسلمت سيفي

وعدت وحيدا..

أجرجر نفسي عند الصباح

وفي القلب وكر لبعض الجراح..

وتبقين سرا

وعشا صغيرا..

إذا ما تعبت أعود إليه

فألقاك أمنا إذا عاد خوفي

يعانق خوفي.. ويحنو عليه..

ويصبح عمري مشاعا لديه

* * *

أراك ابتسامة يوم صبوح

تصارع عمرا عنيد السأم

وتأتي الهموم جموعا جموعا

تحاصر قلمي رياح الألم

فأهفو إليك..

وأسمع صوتا شجي النغم..

ويحمل قلبي بعيدا بعيدا..

فأعلو.. وأعلو..

ويضحى زماني تحت القدم

وتبقين أنت الملاذ الأخير..

ولا شيء بعدك غير العدم

-فاروق جويدة

A Man in Time

He was the sole person I couldn’t feel time moving around whenever we conversed. I remember you would ask me: ”Who taught you to do that?” whenever I followed his words by suddenly standing in the middle of chaos like a statue with hands on my face. And I’d close my eyes tightly, imagine a single place in the entire world -and maybe beyond- I wanted to be in, then my muscles would relax, and I’d take a deep breath and smile. It works every single time I’m tensed. It’s beautiful how your imagination can take you to places you’ve never been to, this is how I learned that time travel is possible; it’s all in your head.
He gave me a pocket watch that has a raven carved on it because he knew how much I love Poe and how my mind is always occupied with analyzing time.
“It’s an illusion” he told me before handing me the watch, “control it” he said.
I was too captivated with his strangeness that I did not spend much time analyzing the meaning behinds his absurd remarks.
Here’s the thing about unordinary people: you never forget them.

There was a time when I found him drowned in a deep conversation with a street artist who walked around with nothing but a brush, withered paint buckets of three colors (black, white and red) and a smile. It was unexpected that he would spend more than an hour talking to him because he wasn’t an art enthusiast.
“I love the light that flickers in their eyes” he said. People’s eyes would glow whenever they talked about what they’re passionate about. And that was something that lifted him up whenever he was down; the micro expressions that reveal a person’s passion towards something/someone. He said that it seemed to him like a person’s soul is finally unchained whenever he was united with passion.

A strange habit of his was to tell stories that have no endings. He said he loved being a storyteller without necessarily telling a story in its literal definition. And stories don’t have to end to be worth telling, stories happen all the time.

Sometimes, I would try to trace him, but all the paths that lead to him are invisible, and that scares me because I have tons of vivid memories of him, like that time he swayed under the raindrops as if listening to music.
And then I realize; the reason might be that my pocket watch never existed, and I might have crossed the cosmic boundaries which divide time.

 

© 2014 ALIA SULTAN

Stand Still

Stand still

Feet buried in sand, deep

like a statue

 

Stand still

tidal waves will come crashing

but you will not drown

 

© 2014 ALIA SULTAN

 

وأنزهُ اسمكَ أنْ تمرّ حروفهُ .. من غَيرَتي بمَسامِعِ الجُلاّسِ 

فأقولُ بعضُ النّاسِ عنك كناية ً .. خوْفَ الوُشاةِ وَأنتَ كلّ النّاسِ

بهاء الدين زهير-

Beautiful Souls

This video reminded me of every beautiful soul who crossed my path and touched my soul in ways they’d never know.

This is a post of appreciation for all the words and gestures -as simple as a smile- from strangers that were either a defining moment for me at some point, or just a source of infectious joy.

One of the most remarkable ads :

Mirror, Mirror

On top of the hill where greens howl in twilight

You lay where fields of purple are in sight

 

Crickets sing from afar

But there is silence in your head

and dewdrops in your heart

 

You are

An island harshly separated

Falling into an abyss, head down

mirrors flicker

and your name echoes eternally

 

Thoughts travel to the edge of the world

you are haunted by the metaphysics of sorrow

And the components of your odd soul

 

On top of the hill where greens howl in twilight

The sky is breathing hues of colors

Jupiter shines earliest above you

And children play where you see them

as dots colliding into each other

 

You have leaped through the looking-glass

Yet it was still you on the other side

 

© 2014 ALIA SULTAN

The Axis

Your words echoed in my head

You said you were going to find me

I did not hear your words

Yet your silhouette sinked in my head

And seeped inside my blood

 

 

You said I’d recognize you when I see you

And I’d hear you whisper inside my head when it’s crowded

You’d call my name in my dreams

And i’d hear your voice echoing eternally

Like an ocean wave that never hits the shore

 

You are in a dimension

where everything is out of the ordinary

everything is magnetic

Everything falls in place when it should

And the moon shines under your pillow

While you breathe in your sleep

 

Sometimes you choose to be formless

And possess my body

While sometimes

You are here, right in front of me

In grass-green

Yet you’re able to speak to me

From a far away galaxy

Where a part of you resides

As you are quiet here in front of me

But I hear your clearly

While you are unconsciously speaking

 

Have you crossed cosmic boundaries

To find me

In a world where we are enslaved by time?

Is that why you’d storm

When I tell you it’s too soon ?

 

You are the 6th sense

The 8th sky

And I am the untold story of yours

Unfolding your unwritten chapters

 

© 2014 ALIA SULTAN