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Umamah

@_i.writes

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Just a miserable pile of procrastination
that writes poems for a sense of escapism🌷

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This is the most recent piece i wrote as a coping mechanism to deal with the changing dynamics of friendships in university. I was having a conversation with a friend which made me think how we channel our passive aggressiveness into our poems especially when we can't direct it where we really want to. That being said it's more of a word dump than a poem and I just felt like posting after ages.
I miss being able to write impactful poems regularly but i guess this is all i can manage at the moment.
I would love it if y'all shared it too but no pressure besties <3
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🌷🌷🌷🌷🌷
#napowrimo #escapril #thealiporepostpoetrymonth2022 #napowrimottt2022 #traxnapowrimo #nationalpoetrymonth #silverleafpoetry
#napowrimosilverleaf #amykaypoemaday
#writersofpakistan #poetry #writersofinstagram #riseofthecreatives #spokenword taken in Bahawalpur by @_i.writes

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5 years ago

I hope all of you weren't expecting a grand comeback with a masterfully crafted poem because this is all I could manage. Honestly I'm kinda sad about the fact that writing doesn't come as easy to me as it did before but I'm trying to ease myself back into the familiarity of this platform.
Until then i hope you like this feeble attempt at poetry and if you do don't forget to save, share and comment cuz months of not posting messes up the algorithm 🤷‍♂.
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#globalagepoetry #writersofpakistan #writing #poetry #silverleafpoetry #bymepoetry #poemsofinstagram #poetryprompts #creative_pakistan #poetsgram #poetsofinstagram #riseofthecreatives #spokenword #poetrygram taken in Lahore, Pakistan by @_i.writes

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5 years ago

#savepalestine
#gazaunderattack
#savegaza
Some things have to be said no matter how hard or harsh it may seem to do so. This is not the time for silence because all those who are silent in the face of imjustice are equally responsible for it. Share this post, raise awareness, use this platform for good and make sure you play your part in any way you can because every voice matters.

🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀
#amykaypoemaday #writersofpakistan #writing #poetry #globalagepoetry #silverleafpoetry #poems #cgcprompts #poemsindia #bymepoetry #pakistanibloggers #bymepoetryasia #creative_pakistan #napowrimo #poetsofinstagram #escapril #poetryprompts #poetryisnotdead taken in Bahawalpur by @_i.writes

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5 years ago

(Read caption 👇)
.
People are dying
in this part of the world,
in the world across the border,
in places I never knew existed.
People are dying
in the house across the street,
in the town near the big city,
in the metropolis that never stopped
to take a beat but has now forgotten
how to breathe.
Every country tells the other to fight
till the death but how do you do that
with more than half dead?

People are dying
and I've started to tie up lose ends,
people are dying
so I'm texting back as soon as I can
people are dying and I'm worried
about all those left behind.
What do you do when the world
has more dead people than alive?
Do you sit down, mourn the loss of lives
or go on hoping death isn't thinking of
you for next time.

The world is dying,
the artists says it is the new renaissance,
the doctor says it is the end of normalcy,
the politician thinks what is a pandemic
if not propaganda,
while the religious say this is the price
of our sins because God knows
that humans only know how to cherish
the remains of what once was
be it oxygen, a mother, wife or brother,
a hospital bed, a hug or a handshake,
a smile that was a curve rather than
just crinkles in our eyes.

Everything's a mess and I've come
to hate numbers because they mean
nothing more than positivity ratios
and death rates. It doesn't seem fair
to turn people with full lives and legacies
into a series of ones,twos and threes
for daily status reports for all the world
to see.

Grief is heavy yet it seems to be
flying off shelves and settling
into the palms and shoulders of
the unsuspecting who are left
with nothing but memories
and broken bodies with no place
to put the dead to rest in peace.
When I feel guilty, hopelessly usless
I look to the people in front of me
and say:
Give me your grief, the hurt the rage
let me carry it for you till you are
ready to hold it again.
🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀
Photo credit: George Maschadalis.
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#amykaypoemaday #writersofpakistan #writing #poetry #globalagepoetry #silverleafpoetry #poems #cgcprompts #poemsindia #bymepoetry #pakistanibloggers #bymepoetryasia #creative_pakistan #napowrimo #poetsofinstagram #escapril #poetryprompts #poetryisnotdead taken in Lahore, Pakistan by @_i.writes

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5 years ago

Prompts: elegy by @thealiporepost
a poem inspired by the last book you read by @bysampayne
(the last book was The Secret History by Donna Tart, a murder mystery in a dark academia setting with loads of greek mythology and pretentious characters that quote ancient literature in normal conversations.)
(Read caption for poem 👇)
🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀
If you find yourself awake at 3am
think of the body you buried
at the foot of an ancient oak tree
to the sound of a blackbird's song.
It's been a week,
a month,
a year,
time changes when humans
become guilt,
become rage,
become soulless bodies
that haunt the homes they once lived in.

How do you get away with murder that
was a necessity?
how do you grieve one with blood
still fresh on your hands
and dirt buried under nail beds?
It took a while to realize that we
become monsters before we learn the
delicate art of being people.
We are sinners before preachers
and demons before we get our wings.
Even in death we are fallible,
accountable,
unforgivable,
even with a decaying body underground
we are forgivable but not deserving
of forgiveness.

So if you find yourself awake at 3 am
think of the body you buried
at the foot of an ancient oak tree,
It belongs to a past you,
or maybe a present you,
or future you but it is always
yours. The first crimes we commit
are always againt ourselves.
Beauty is terror and
We were born from the ashes of stars
light borrowed from the sun
and shadows of the moon.
Everything that is beautiful,
we quiver before it
so we bury our bodies in hopes
of an escape from our own.
We sit on our graves on full moon
nights, with parchment and blood
red ink in our pens,
a burning humanmess in our hearts
we write elegies to parts of us
that our lost.
🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀
Not my best work but I wrote this in like 10 minutes tops. A bit different from the topics I'm usually inclinded towards
still I hope you enjoy reading it. Do share and save so my content can reach more people.
🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀
Also I'd love to hear your interpretations of this in the comments. by @_i.writes

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6 years ago

(Read caption for poem 👇)
The city does not belong to you it never did.
Not even when you were born on
the brink of a sweltering summer
that left an aftertaste on your tongue
for all the years to come.
Home is not always your hometown
and the first thing my city taught me
was mistrust familiarity, so I try
to escape it every chance I get.
Nostalgia reminds me that I belong
to the town even though it never
belonged to me.
So tell how can I leave a place of
endless summers and hazy dreams?

Summer in my city was always an
uninvited guest that overstayed
it's welcome. We'd wait for it leave
before it even arrived like a father who
wanted a son but had a daughter instead,
like a wronged child who shut the door
on trust before he even learned what
it meant;
Like me: who was born out of
a mother's grief and a father's guilt,
given a name that burned the tips
of people's tongues so I convinced
myself that this world was not
ready for human hurricanes.

Summer in my city had a bitter taste
of both heartbreak and hope,
I'd watch my brothers climb
up mango trees and make art
with dried leaves one year and
the next they'd be writing love songs
for the girls across the street,
and the year after that they'd police
women like me for wearing skirts
that hitched up the knees.
You do not realize the wrongs of
the world until you see them sitting
across the dining table and then
all you can think about is how
there really is no escape.

Summer in my city was rage and violence
burning red, hotter than the asphalt
of our driveway that burnt the soles
of my favorite sandals when I stood
there all afternoon scared of the
monsters screaming bloody murder inside.
The 10 year old girl packs a griefcase,
nails it shut, shoves it under bed and
waits for her sweet sixteen
when she can finally leave.
I ran out on my parents on a July night
but came back because the weight
of the case was too heavy for
on shoulders that were built for
generations of trauma.

This city is a cemetery and I
am the gravedigger,
back bent and calloused hands
spent 4 years digging a grave
for all the versions of me I no
longer need. I think this means
I'm free to leave. taken in Lahore, Pakistan by @_i.writes

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6 years ago

(Swipe for the poem 👉)
Umeed (امید)
Translation: Hope
Prompt by @poetryplantproject
🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸
Cllg got shut down for a week due to covid which means I wrote 2 poems in 2 days. Yayyyyy meee. God bless the magic of National Poetry month because I don't even feel rusty despite the many weeks of writer's block and procrastination.
I wrote this poem during an online lecture at 8 am today and I'm pretty happy with the way it turned out. Here's to hoping you'll enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it. Don't forget to share and save to help my content reach more people.
🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸
#napowrimo #escapril2021 #escapril #cgcprompts #napowrimosilverleaf #bhpnapowrimo21 #amykaypoemaday #traxnapowrimp #napowrimottt #thealiporepostpoetrymonth #napowrimoxnidhscraps #writersofpakistan #pakistanibloggers #poems #silverleafpoetry #globalagepoetry #poetry #writing #napowrimowithppp taken in Lahore, Pakistan by @_i.writes

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6 years ago

My mother brushes my hair
and I am reminded of chaos,
the way it calms in the warmth of a
calloused palm,
she tucks every strand into a braid
each one tighter than before but I donot
tell her to stop because I know that
my childhood is not yet a distant memory
to her as it is to me.

How do you give gratitude to a person
who becomes the Sun for everyone around,
burns themselves to ashes only to rise
and do it all over again, who embraces
an eternity of a void if it means that others
will live in a world full of light.

How can tenderness turn the body it
inhabits into a broken china doll?

I think I took up too much space
inside of my mother's body,
so much so that a dreamer had to get
to get rid her of her dreams before they
even learnt how to breathe,
so much so that I think she never
stopped stretching to make room for me,
so much so that sometimes I wonder
if I can be the person she thought her
little girl was gonna grow up to be.

But Ma, a girl is only a girl until you tell
her she isn't anymore, a girl is only a girl
until she's scared of becoming a woman,
a girl is only a girl until she sees what
her mother has hidden for many years;
the unshed tears, the stale hope,
the shards of dreams and happiness
that flew too close to sun.

My mother searchs for a home inside me
but I donot know how to tell her that
her daughter sets fire to things she loves
and chokes on the smoke,
her hands are matches striking against
brittle bones of the ribcage.
I cannot tell my mother that I'm not ready
do what she did for me because
I'm scared that I will be never be enough
for someone who spent their whole life
trying to be someone they never thought
they'd be.

So Ma, you should know that you gave
birth to a grenade.
I self destruct when things get too rough
and the only thing I can do to feel good
about myself is go down without
any other casualties.
...............................
Prompts used: tenderness by @thealiporepost
My mother searches for a home inside me @brownhourpoetry by @_i.writes

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6 years ago

TW: Self harm.

A badly written poem for a bad couple of weeks. Well in case you haven't noticed the standard of this account and my writings has dropped considering the fact that I barely have time to write let alone log into this account for more than five minutes. This post is just a way to tell y'all I'm alive and trying my best to post when I can. Soo show some love cuz my engagement is dead and badly needs a boost. And also remember the instgram algorithm has changed and saving and sharing posts is more important than liking them.
:
#aesthetics #writersofpakistan
#pakistaniartist #pakistanibloggers #writing #writersofinstagram #quotes #instagood #poets_community #tumblr #lahore #poems #artistsofpakistan #spokenword #bookstagrampak #writer #riseofthecreatives #lightroompk #creativepakistan #creative_pakistan #dawndotcom #silverleafpoetry #bymepoetryasia #globalagepoetry by @_i.writes

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6 years ago

I really don't have anything to say today except for the fact that I'm totally spent these days and barely have the energy to post. That being said this is just a small poem the concept of which sounded way better in my head. But I hope you like it. And also remember the instgram algorithm has changed and saving and sharing posts is more important than liking them.
:
#poetry, #aesthetics #writersofpakistan
#pakistaniartist #pakistanibloggers #writing #writersofinstagram #quotes #instagood #poets_community #tumblr #lahore #poems #artistsofpakistan #spokenword #bookstagrampak #writer #riseofthecreatives #lightroompk #creativepakistan #creative_pakistan #dawndotcom #silverleafpoetry #bymepoetryasia #globalagepoetry by @_i.writes

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6 years ago

(Swipe for the poem 👉)

I cannot believe I actually wrote something that didn't make me wanna puke. Yaaaayyy me. I've been feeling really overwhelmed this month and not being able to write made it worse. I realized that the stress and anxiety that hadn't plagued me in 2020 is finally catching up and the my current circumstances made it worst. Taking it one day really isn't an option I have. But logging into this account after a couple of days made me really happy. All the messages warmed up my heart. So thanks for all the love. It means the world to me.
......
Do share it if you liked it.
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Tags💬:
#poetry, #aesthetics #writersofpakistan
#pakistaniartist #pakistanibloggers #writing #writersofinstagram #quotes #instagood #poets_community #tumblr #lahore #poems #artistsofpakistan #spokenword #bookstagrampak #writer #riseofthecreatives #lightroompk #creativepakistan #creative_pakistan #dawndotcom #poetryprompts #heartofquill
#bymepoetryasia #globalagepoetry by @_i.writes

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6 years ago

(swipe 👉)
☄️☄️☄️☄️☄️☄️
QOTD: Tell me what lessons you've learnt this year and tag the person who made these 365 days better for you.
☄️☄️☄️☄️☄️☄️
I can't believe this mess of a year is over. Still can't fully process whether I'm glad of getting rid of it or just sad becuase I have to say goodbye to a year that has shaped me in sooo many ways.
Nevertheless I've been working on this piece for some time now and It's really personal to me so I feel like alot of you are gonna relate to it as well.
I just want to thank all who've stuck by me and my poems even when the both of us were struggling. The love, the comments, the dms, the shares have made me love this platform more than I'd expected to.
Anyways Happy New Year. 🎉
Don't forget to share this post 😉

Tags💬:
#poetry, #aesthetics #writersofpakistan
#pakistaniartist #pakistanibloggers #writing #writersofinstagram #quotes #instagood #poets_community #tumblr #lahore #poems #artistsofpakistan #spokenword #bookstagrampak #writer #riseofthecreatives #lightroompk #creativepakistan #creative_pakistan #dawndotcom #poetryprompts #heartofquill
#bymepoetryasia #globalagepoetry #silverleafpoetry #new year #selfcare by @_i.writes

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