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DoodleScribbles

Scribblings and scrawls of a hopeless romantic soul

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Wandering Mind

My mind wanders everywhere, through stories and songs and poetry from heaven wide. And the farther I go, I am not lost but instead pieces of me, I find.

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Home
By Warsan Shire

no one leaves home unless
home is the mouth of a shark
you only run for the border
when you see the whole city running as well

your neighbors running faster than you
breath bloody in their throats
the boy you went to school with
who kissed you dizzy behind the old tin factory
is holding a gun bigger than his body
you only leave home
when home won’t let you stay.

no one leaves home unless home chases you
fire under feet
hot blood in your belly
it’s not something you ever thought of doing
until the blade burnt threats into
your neck
and even then you carried the anthem under
your breath
only tearing up your passport in an airport toilets
sobbing as each mouthful of paper
made it clear that you wouldn’t be going back.

you have to understand,
that no one puts their children in a boat
unless the water is safer than the land
no one burns their palms
under trains
beneath carriages
no one spends days and nights in the stomach of a truck
feeding on newspaper unless the miles travelled
means something more than journey.
no one crawls under fences
no one wants to be beaten
pitied

no one chooses refugee camps
or strip searches where your
body is left aching
or prison,
because prison is safer
than a city of fire
and one prison guard
in the night
is better than a truckload
of men who look like your father
no one could take it
no one could stomach it
no one skin would be tough enough

the
go home blacks
refugees
dirty immigrants
asylum seekers
sucking our country dry
niggers with their hands out
they smell strange
savage
messed up their country and now they want
to mess ours up
how do the words
the dirty looks
roll off your backs
maybe because the blow is softer
than a limb torn off

or the words are more tender
than fourteen men between
your legs
or the insults are easier
to swallow
than rubble
than bone
than your child body
in pieces.
i want to go home,
but home is the mouth of a shark
home is the barrel of the gun
and no one would leave home
unless home chased you to the shore
unless home told you
to quicken your legs
leave your clothes behind
crawl through the desert
wade through the oceans
drown
save
be hunger
beg
forget pride
your survival is more important

no one leaves home until home is a sweaty voice in your ear
saying-
leave,
run away from me now
i dont know what i’ve become
but i know that anywhere
is safer than here

Main photograph by Daniet Etter/New York Times/Redux /eyevine. Laith Majid cries tears of joy and relief that he and his children have made it to Europe.


Sharing this stunning piece because it deserves to be read, heard and felt. So much love for her words. ❤

Warsan Shire is a Kenyan-born Somali poet, writer and educator based in London. Born in 1988, Warsan has read her work extensively all over Britain and internationally – including recent readings in South Africa, Italy, Germany, Canada, North America and Kenya

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Doodles and Scribbles at 2

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YAY! It has been two awesome years for Doodles and Scribbles and I, and the counting goes on.

Through the Years

Doodles and Scribbles has grown such a warm blogging community and I have grown as blogger myself. I remember a certain someone once told me,

“…you only want attention; to bask in praises from strange faces, unknown to you and you to them, never knowing what lies deep within.”

I felt bad for these harsh words and disappointed at this someone, who never had a blogging community in the first place, saying such things. He called it shallow and pretentious, which is not.

I am grateful for the people of passion that I have met through this blog. Their worth are far beyond the praises that I have received and in contrast to what that rude someone said, these bloggers–who I consider friends–have read and seen right through me. Vise versa. Continue reading “Doodles and Scribbles at 2”

One Word After Another

From the words of Neil Gaiman

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“This is how you do it: you sit down at the keyboard and you put one word after another until it’s done. It’s that easy, and that hard.”

I’ve been out of the blogosphere longer than I originally planned. Somebody, call my muse!!

In the meantime, I’ve decided to tidy my shelf and post some long overdue drafts in the next few days. Sigh. Why must writing be this easy and hard?

To the weary…

To the weary hearts like mine, here’s a beautiful song from Casting Crowns.

“Quite! Be Still!”, I need to tell myself this phrase the way God commanded the raging storm in today’s gospel, Mark 4:35-41.

God of All My Days
by Casting Crowns

I

I came to You with my heart in pieces
And found the God with healing in His hands
I turned to You, put everything behind me
And found the God who makes all things new
I looked to You, drowning in my questions
And found the God who holds all wisdom
And I trusted You and stepped out on the ocean

You caught my hand among the waves
‘Cause You’re the God of all my days

CHORUS:

Each step I take
You make a way
And I will give You all my praise
My seasons change, You stay the same
You’re the God of all my days Continue reading “To the weary…”

The Prisoner of Chillon

Daniels, William, 1813-1880; The Prisoner of Chillon

The Prisoner of Chillon
By LORD BYRON (GEORGE GORDON)

   My hair is grey, but not with years,
          Nor grew it white
          In a single night,
As men’s have grown from sudden fears:
My limbs are bow’d, though not with toil,
       But rusted with a vile repose,
For they have been a dungeon’s spoil,
       And mine has been the fate of those
To whom the goodly earth and air
Are bann’d, and barr’d—forbidden fare;
But this was for my father’s faith
I suffer’d chains and courted death;
That father perish’d at the stake
For tenets he would not forsake;
And for the same his lineal race
In darkness found a dwelling place;
We were seven—who now are one,
       Six in youth, and one in age,
Finish’d as they had begun,
       Proud of Persecution’s rage;
One in fire, and two in field,
Their belief with blood have seal’d,
Dying as their father died,
For the God their foes denied;—
Three were in a dungeon cast,
Of whom this wreck is left the last. Continue reading “The Prisoner of Chillon”

The Great Book of Lists- Chapter 5.1: People Who Inspired You

I’ve waited for this day to post this specific TGBoL chapter. Chapter 5.1 is all about the people who inspired you. It’s not about Descartes, Churchill, Coelho or any other inspiring thinkers whose quotes flourish the internet and the social networks. No, this chapter is about a list of real people, unknown (or almost) to the world who had a real impact on our life.

As for me, it’d be:

  • God, inspite of failing him most of the time, He never failed me
  • My family who are my great source of strength and inspiration
  • My college professors who pushed me to my limits, for they knew we were meant to grow
  • My treasure box of friends- my high school bffs, my college buddies, my “UTODIAN” friends, my favorite love-birds (Rinabel & Red)

~ Continue reading “The Great Book of Lists- Chapter 5.1: People Who Inspired You”

The Great Book of Lists- Chapter 5.0: I am currently…

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Still catching up with TGBOL’s chapters. ^^

Chapter 5.0 week is about the snapshot of our day. It’s going to be a portrait of you who are, what you do, and what you plan. Here’s mine:

I am currently…

Loving… the idea of being back in here in blog-o-sphere.

Eating… cream-o for breakfast. Yep, I’m a certified cream-o-holic!

Drinking… a hot cup of Swiss Miss dark chocolate drink. ❤

Watching… the  ceiling. We’ve had a long weekend due to Memorial Day and I don’t feel like working yet. Ssshh.. don’t tell my boss! *wink*

Going… to start blog-hopping ASAP. I’ve been gone for a while and I missed a lot.

Reading… Patricia Cornwell’s Portrait of a Killer: Jack the Ripper—Case Closed. I’ve had a reading break and  I’m happy I’ve read a lot. I’m stuck with this one though. It’s been giving me nightmares for two nights. Such interestingly disturbing book. Geez!

Texting… my high school and college best friends. Ah, how I missed the old days.

Playing… dead. Yep. Staring blankly at the ceiling, trying to hold my breath for as long as I can. I need a longer weekend! Bloody har har. XD

Working… on learning more about  my new found interest, calligraphy. I’m back in sketching too but I’m trying to tame my fingers for calligraphy these days.

Listening… to Hillsong United and Casting Crowns these days for inspiration. And Yiruma keeps my mind at ease.

Thanking… God for a long list of reason. I just couldn’t thank Him enough for everything and for never giving up on me. ❤

Buying… nothing (as long as I don’t lurk too long in the bookstore). I’m trying to save for something BIG. *fingers crossed*

Planning… to take another leap of faith and grab the chance at self-growth. Yes, career change. I’ve already let two chances slip right before my eyes. There will not be a third (I hope so).

Visiting… home. Soon! It’s for my parent’s 25th anniversary and I just couldn’t wait. 😀

Wondering… what to do first. Haha. I’m really stuck!

Feeling… happy. I love mornings as much as I love nights. Somebody’s playing upbeat music in the office. The sun’s gorgeous today and I believe it’ll be a lovely day. I hope you guys have the same! ^^
MS

How about you? Can I get a snapshot? I would love to hear them, too.:):):)

The Great Book of Lists- Chapter 4.1: Groceries

What good is a book with missing chapters, right? So here I am catching up with TGBOL’s chapters, starting off with groceries. 🙂 🙂 🙂

Chapter 4.1 of The Great Book of Lists is all about our grocery list. This one’s quite tricky since I only do grocery once in a blue moon (if you call buying two or three stuff a grocery). Lol. Good thing I found the printable template below to guide me, and TADA! Hmm… let’s simply imagine that I am a normal human being who normally strolls the supermarket aisles. Here goes something…

grocery

Erratum: Adding hotdogs on my list. I suddenly craved for one. HAHA!

How about you? What are on your grocery carts? I would love to hear them, too.:):):)

Masterpiece in Waiting

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© Victoria Bee Photography

A blank page is no empty space. It is brimming with potential… It is a masterpiece in waiting— yours. A.A. Patawaran

Masterpiece in Waiting

Each day is as blank a sheet of paper
Empty as a white canvas
Quite as a still guitar
Bare as the starless sky
But as magic slides through our pen
Ink drips from our paintbrush
Fingers play with the strings
And stars twinkle in our eyes
‎­     A ‎masterpiece takes shape
‎­     Out of nothing, a glimpse of something divine.

© 2016 Maria. All Rights Reserved.


In response to The Daily Post prompt: Blank

Starting a clean slate today. Happy to back here in blog-o-sphere. Let’s write our masterpieces, shall we? 😉

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