Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.

Can You Draw Hatred?

Can you draw hatred?
‘Draw hatred?’
Yes, hatred!
‘No, how do we draw it?’
Like this!
I showed her what I had made.
‘What is this?’
This is hatred.
‘This is hatred?’,
She would repeat.
Yes, hatred.
‘And?’
And Anger.
And all those questions,
Those disturb me.
So I have poured here,
On this once-a-blank sheet,
All that was inside me.
All burning questions,
And hatred,
And anger,
Agony,
Miseries,
Mishaps,
Memories.
It is a canvas of my thoughts.
A harsh painting.
A disrupted photo.
A broken vase.
Numerous fragments,
You will fail to count them.
These lines,
Are not just lines.
These spots,
Are really blots.
Blots,
That made my life so ugly.
These sharp edges,
Are the knifes,
Those were used to kill me.
‘Kill you?’
Yes!
The swords of words,
Impertinent words,
Killing words,
Words that took my life,
‘You are alive!’
No, I am not!
Can you see me alive?
Living is not breathing!
LIVING IS NOT JUST BREATHING!
I am breathing,
I am not alive.
I AM DEAD!!!
These colorful dresses that I wear,
I see them black.
This home,
Is my coffin.
This world is my grave!
I am not alive!
My life is this broken vase,
Fragments scattered,
Here and there,
I see them everywhere.
These blots,
They itch!
These scratches,
They give pain.
You would now say,
That I have gone insane!
But I am not insane!
I am just a dead soul,
Compelled to live here,
Until my benefactor,
My death returns!
I want to die literally,
So that no one could see me,
No one could point out,
And say,
“Oh what a poor girl!”
No one could sympathize,
For the broken vase,
For things are meant to break,
And my heart is one of those.
‘Its time you sleep.
Get some rest, my friend.’
No, don’t stop me.
Please don’t.
For this one last time,
Let me speak.
Let me tell you where I have been,
What I have gone through,
Oh let me speak.
I have had the worst days,
Of my life.
Life, oh is this life?
I used to sit on the grasses,
Look at the beautiful flowers,
Enjoy the breezes that once flew,
Follow the butterflies.
I never plucked a flower,
I never caught a butterfly,
For I loved them living,
And spreading wings,
And showering fragrances.
I knew,
I believed,
That all their beauty remained,
Until they lived.
Then why me?
Why was I followed?
And plucked?
And thrown,
And dumped?
Why me?
WHY ME?
I cry hysterically.
I sob and weep,
And shout and yell,
Until a needle is pierced,
On my arm and I,
Collapse.
Wounded.
Broken.
Like fragments,
Of a vase!
A beautiful vase,
A black vase!
A coffined vase.

 .

Written by: Maria Imran *Randomly Abstract*

First published: http://www.firebirdpoetry.com/

© Copyright protected.

Left: Me drawing hatred Right: www.archdaily.com Edited: RandomlyAbstract

Left: I, Maria ‘Drawing hatred’
Right: archdaily.com
Edited: RandomlyAbstract

Perspective: No, its not me that I have written about, as some friends asked. This poem has been imagined and the effort was to write with the perspective of a little princess, a girl whose life has been destroyed in the hands of cruelty. A flower, a butterfly-chaser she was and got plucked even though she never picked or harmed them; those lovely, living creatures.
Critiques and additions are welcome. Feel free to send your opinions.

50 responses

  1. Oh My God Maria !!!!! This was intense….So intense ! I never thought you would write something this painful ! Well I could relate to all this except the needle piercing part😉 Really it was so beautiful…Painful too at the same time….You were right…Life is not about just taking breath in and out….Life is about living it and many of us are already dead….. I too sometimes feel the same !! I never ever wish anyone pass through this, through which that girl passed and I hope that girl was not you……
    I don’t want to say it beautiful because it is making me sad but the choice of words and how you set them perfectly is wonderful ! Amazing Maria

    August 6, 2013 at 11:33 pm

    • The needle-piercing part was when the listener thrust an injection as to make her unconscious because she had got her fits (A sudden uncontrollable outbreak of intense emotions) again.
      Glad you felt what I wrote and came up with this wonderful feedback! “Life is not about just taking breath in and out….Life is about living it and many of us are already dead”- true.
      Not about me, thankfully!🙂 Its written in the perspective of a girl who has faced some tragedies and thus ended up in such emotional trauma.
      Thankyou for your appreciation White Pearl! =) I too wish no more girl passes through this..!

      August 7, 2013 at 10:05 pm

      • Oh yes I got it ! Really the pain was flooding out of your words…..I wonder how can you write something like this without not experiencing any !! Really really amazing imagination…..
        Yes I hope no girl passes through this….. And I hope You always remain happy and satisfied !

        August 7, 2013 at 10:23 pm

  2. White Pearl gave the perfect answer. I can read a lot in english, speak a lot, but I am not so good in writing. I hope, it´s not yourself you have written about. It makes me unhappy ♥

    August 6, 2013 at 11:52 pm

    • It isn’t about myself, thankfully! (Just updated the perspective in the blog post now.)
      I feel pleasure that you once again visited and honored me with your wonderful feedback!🙂
      You speak German?

      August 7, 2013 at 10:09 pm

      • Hello, I am german and glad too, to hear from you😉

        August 7, 2013 at 11:16 pm

        • Hello German and welcome on board!🙂
          I am trying to install some mini-translator on my blog for ease, hoping to find one soon! =)

          August 8, 2013 at 4:59 pm

  3. Sometimes something comes to the surface and when you grab it to pull it out it’s so sharp and jagged the blood just spurts all over.

    Better than leaving it inside though.

    August 7, 2013 at 12:42 pm

    • That’s right.
      Better to let the cold liquid flow, and enjoy it screeching once and for all.
      Thankyou for writing.

      August 7, 2013 at 11:37 pm

  4. this sure is intense…passionate too….and very accurate i must say. hatred does that…yu’ve given just near the perfect metaphoric explanation…

    August 7, 2013 at 10:02 pm

    • Thankyou sidmary for your valuable feedback! Hatred sure does that. Ever tried scribbling some hatred on a blank canvas?!

      August 7, 2013 at 11:38 pm

  5. Omg! This is soo awesome Mariaa =D

    August 11, 2013 at 2:21 am

  6. Reblogged this on wild innocence…..

    August 13, 2013 at 6:17 am

  7. Bee

    Please accept this award nomination http://barbmca.wordpress.com/2013/08/13/encouraging-awards/

    August 13, 2013 at 10:11 am

    • Thankyou so mch Bee for the kind consideration! Really glad for the nomination, thanks again!🙂
      – Maria

      August 13, 2013 at 8:41 pm

  8. hey, when did you turn into such a fine artist/writer/poet! You were always great but this piece is extraordinary!

    August 20, 2013 at 10:05 pm

    • Thankyou for the compliments sarosh!😀
      I don’t really know ‘when’, but I had something screaming to write about those ‘hands of cruelty’.
      Its so good to pour out anger on paper. Tried ever?

      August 20, 2013 at 10:42 pm

      • Not yet. Feels like a good idea. So far, running is the only outlet for my anger. It’s a great anti-depressant as well. Ever tried?

        August 20, 2013 at 11:02 pm

        • Nope, not yet! I prefer resting and not running when depressed.🙂

          August 21, 2013 at 3:24 pm

          • btw, if someone likes your post, you don’t always have to return the favor by liking their’s back coz that isn’t a favor in the first place but a genuine acknowledgement. My post you just liked was based around a Farsi word, contained some Arabic as well and i wondered if you really made some sense out of it🙂

            August 21, 2013 at 9:10 pm

          • I know that.:/
            I wasn’t returning the favor, I did read the whole of it. The reason I liked then was to comment later, but bah okay fine.

            August 21, 2013 at 10:00 pm

  9. Ajaytao2010

    I Nominate you for a Super Bunch of Awards – 30 Nominations
    please choose any 4 awards out of the 30
    accept it and oblige

    there are no linkbacks for this award

    http://ajaytao2010.wordpress.com/2013/08/24/super-bunch-of-awards-30-nomination/

    August 24, 2013 at 9:04 pm

    • Thankyou so much Ajay~

      August 24, 2013 at 9:24 pm

      • Ajaytao2010

        thank you so much dear🙂🙂

        be blessed dear

        August 24, 2013 at 9:25 pm

  10. rjl2727

    “You would now say,
    That I have gone insane!
    But I am not insane!
    I am just a dead soul,
    Compelled to live here,
    Until my benefactor,
    My death returns!”

    I wonder why it is that we find death as attractive and desireable as it is horrifying? While we truly want and need to learn how to live and love fully in our allotted time on earth, it also is our sacred responsibility to make peace with death, so that when it comes, early or late, we are not taken unawares. very, very nice piece.

    October 18, 2013 at 7:11 am

    • You are gifted with the quality of putting together words in a wonderful manner, but I always lack them when they are needed the most. Thank you for your wonderful feedback, it means a lot.🙂

      I don’t understand either why death sometimes appears to be an attractive desire, as if achieving it will cease all pains. One must of course live here in the allotted time and make peace with their surroundings, those people who are close to them and everything else like that. ‘Life’ deserves more love and desire than does our ‘death’.
      But it’s probably so because life is ‘present’ and some of us only like things that are far.
      Death is horrifying, yet the only benefit, or savior from all worldly sorrows.
      And still, life is the only best thing and living beings are totally responsible to learn to live it.

      Forgive me for such a mixture of sentences.

      October 18, 2013 at 7:15 pm

      • rjl2727

        no forgiveness necessary – your message is very clear. i realize something good in this life is that the older i get, the less terrified i am by death, even though i know it is coming for me sooner than it was before. and maybe the mixture of my confused thoughts about the afterlife stems from an existential view that the anxiety of death is much diminished if one does not pin their desperate hopes on a) believing ourselves to be “special” as though it won’t happen to me, and b) that i will be saved by some ultimate rescuer. and it does make me far less concerned about death to reconcile myself to that. as we’ve said before, yes, perhaps and probably something beyond the grave; but let me be prepared to face death with or without such assurance. i have one waiting to be posted at the appropriate time that addresses this specifically. peace and life, both before and with death.

        October 18, 2013 at 11:07 pm

        • “..but let me be prepared to face death with or without such assurance.”
          Great point.
          Live it to the fullest, and in the best of manners, so when you die:
          (a) and there comes an ‘afterlife’ (in which I strongly believe) then you get rewarded for your worldly deeds.
          (b) afterlife is just a myth (as one may think) then at least the people from this world are going to remember you by good name and cherish the very memories you blessed them with.
          I will be waiting for that post of yours. Peace and life.🙂

          October 19, 2013 at 9:35 am

          • rjl2727

            how could i agree with you anymore??! tell me in the morning and i will post for you. peace sister.

            October 19, 2013 at 11:10 am

  11. rjl2727

    so, here is one just for you, to go with the above thoughts.

    life provides two traveling companions –
    love and pain.
    and who can tell between the two?
    love and pain, one and the same,
    for each are and always will be:
    ugly as beautiful,
    attractive as horrifying,
    dangerous as safe,
    irresistible as intolerable,
    hopeless as promising,
    invaluable as worthless.
    love and pain, companions and foes.
    both serve identical functions:
    to remind you that you are alive,
    and make you wish you were dead.
    rjl 2013

    October 18, 2013 at 7:42 am

    • You’ve left me speechless with this awe-inspiring poetry of yours!
      True, very true. Love and pain are one and the same, they’re companions and foes.
      both serve identical functions:
      to remind you that you are alive,
      and make you wish you were dead.

      That’s exactly how it goes, invaluable as worthless, irresistible as intolerable. Such are their conflicting yet matching qualities and understanding them ‘deeply’ may cost a lifetime, or perhaps a second’s blink.
      Thank you so much for honoring my blog, and me, with your words!

      October 18, 2013 at 6:57 pm

  12. This is amazing… Wonderful and… Out of the world🙂
    I am speechless…🙂

    I used to sit on the grasses,
    Look at the beautiful flowers,
    Enjoy the breezes that once flew,
    Follow the butterflies.
    I never plucked a flower,
    I never caught a butterfly,
    For I loved them living,
    And spreading wings,
    And showering fragrances.
    I knew,
    I believed,
    That all their beauty remained,
    Until they lived.
    Then why me?
    Why was I followed?
    And plucked?
    And thrown,
    And dumped?
    Why me?
    WHY ME?

    Amazing…

    But… with your permission… can I draw love?

    October 19, 2013 at 7:35 am

  13. I failed to draw an image of love. And hence goes the poem…

    For long I try in vain to create
    A picture, a sketch of the feeling great
    A feeling too subtle to be described
    A feeling too immense to be inscribed
    I tried so hard and tried so long
    Only to realize that I was all wrong
    Love is a feeling that can’t be drawn
    It can just be felt and touched upon

    I was so stupid to capture the formless
    The mighty, immense; vast and endless
    How could I capture the one containing all
    The happy, the sad, the big and the small?
    If hatred is a sketch, then love is the page
    If hatred is a play, then love is the stage
    If hatred is knife, then love is the sheath
    Love is the sky with all emotions beneath

    Love is the canvas on which you drew hatred
    But it is all too large, unaltered and sacred
    On this are drawn joys, smiles and fears
    On this chuckles the child, on this flows tears

    Love is the ocean, formless and immense
    Containing feelings: jolly, dark, deep and intense…

    October 19, 2013 at 7:35 pm

    • Started with curiosity, which was taken by surprise and then smiles and later a sigh.
      You write so well Arindam, and this piece is just SO fantastic that I can never ever tell you how much it means. .
      And while I deeply delve into its divinity, let me thank you for this amazing masterpiece.

      If hatred is a sketch, then love is the page
      If hatred is a play, then love is the stage
      If hatred is knife, then love is the sheath
      Love is the sky with all emotions beneath

      Love is the canvas on which you drew hatred
      But it is all too large, unaltered and sacred

      It indeed is a feeling too subtle to describe, too immense to be inscribed. I love the first line, and the next and next se next and the next until the end!🙂

      October 19, 2013 at 7:45 pm

      • Thank you so much… I did not know what to write when I started… just knew that the sketch could not be drawn… Then the words simply flowed out…🙂

        And… could you edit the poem to change the last word to ‘intense’… I wrote ‘immense’ by mistake…😛

        October 19, 2013 at 7:53 pm

        • And they ‘flowed out’ too perfectly..!
          I agree to your point, it probably can not be drawn. Because as you said, it contains such vast seas in itself ‘a formless, immense ocean’ that it is, that all efforts in capturing it may end in vain.
          ‘If hatred is a play then love is a stage’ : That’s a deep philosophy and I can not help but agree. Maybe, hatred is only a fruit of love. Or a side-effect, or a consequence. Like tears are for laughter and happiness is for displeasure, love is for hatred.

          October 19, 2013 at 8:09 pm

          • Very rightly said… hatred is the fruit of love…

            But in the poem, I go a step further to say that ALL feelings are a consequence of love. Love makes you laugh, it makes you cry; it give satisfaction but also makes you envious… All feelings play on the stage of love…

            October 19, 2013 at 8:19 pm

          • You are right.. All feelings play on the stage of love.

            October 19, 2013 at 8:21 pm

        • And edited.🙂

          October 19, 2013 at 8:11 pm

          • And thank you🙂

            October 19, 2013 at 8:20 pm

          • Itni thanks tou maene nhi ki because kisi ne kaha tha thank you nhi kartey.
            And why exactly are you thanking me?😛 For editing the last word? You are so welcome.😉

            October 19, 2013 at 8:25 pm

          • *Embarrased (Again)*
            Ok… aaj se pakka… No thank you… Deal?

            October 19, 2013 at 9:49 pm

          • Deal.🙂

            October 19, 2013 at 10:55 pm

  14. Pingback: Pen paints! | Randomlyabstract's Blog

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