The Poetry Marathon

The movies promised it would be pretty
Reds, yellows and oranges would colour the scenery
Leaves would glitter the floor
And crunch satisfyingly under my feet
I don’t know why, but I thought apples would be involved

I didn’t believe them when they told me
The Autumn would be bleak
But it certainly was
Sure, there were reds, yellows and oranges at first
But nothing looked pretty under the heavy grey sky
The leaves did not crunch when they were perpetually soaked wet by rain
The wind so cold it pierced my soul
The sun was nowhere to be found
I found out seasonal depression is a real thing
Considering no one wants to be out and about
To think the weather could suck out so much life from a city

I enjoyed myself though
The novelty of my first Autumn in the North
A gloomy day meant I was experiencing life as a Swede
And more stories to share with my audience
Back home in the tropics.

Hej Farmor
I miss you
Though I barely knew you
We barely spoke
Because of the language barrier
But I knew you loved me
And I loved you.

I want you to know
That I can speak Swedish now
Nine-years too late perhaps
But you’re always on my mind when I study Swedish
I wish I had understood the stories of your life
From your own words
Not from inherited family photos
Not from the tales your brother told
I wish I had just one conversation with you
Though I guess it’s normal for young children to take their grandparents for granted

You are still in our thoughts
I can tell that my mother and father miss you
When they talk about the past
The gifts that you gave
Are still part of our lives
The marks you left remain
Till the day we meet again.

Met myself a cute boy
His beauty hit me like a train
Hair flowed gloriously in the wind
Skin glowed bright and pearly in the sun
Voice almost spoke to my soul
His smile shined through the dark

You made heartache fun.

Never been one to take the first step
I wouldn’t even know what to do
Yet somehow because of you
I am compelled
I must do what I have to do
You inspire such excitement in me
Such dilemma such chaos internally
Yet it gives me peace of mind to know how much I am into you.

You made heartache fun.

So I chased after you
I related to your story
I complimented you at every opportunity
I asked you for a selfie
Still you were shy maybe, taken even, extremely responsible in how you interacted with me
So I wailed to myself for half a year wishing I had not put myself through this agony

You made heartache fun.

Warm Milo
In my favourite white mug
Just enough milk and Milo powder
Place it on my pretty wooden coaster

Softest pyjamas
Cotton caressing my skin
With pretty floral patterns
Like walking in a blanket

Friends
On the other end of a Skype call
Aisha, Tarin, Tasnim and all
The best company a click away

Old movie
To take me back to a nostalgic time
A chance to live in a different world
A classic tale to pass the hours

No responsibilities
Unemployment has its perks
Too much free time on my hands
Anxiety-free and relaxed

Cosiness inside and out
Mind body and soul
Ingredients to my recipe for
A great quarantine-night.

Born in an open-air prison
Raised with no freedom under oppression
Her people calling out for liberation
They fight with cameras
Recording violations
For the world to see
To hear
Their story
She is Sahrawi.

I met her in Europe
Demanding justice from the powerful
It was her activism that got Moroccans shook-up
Arrested for streaming live on the streets
Unlawful
She is attractive, fearless, and commands a room with her voice
To them, good traits on the wrong woman

You are an interesting person
When I first heard your story
I didn’t expect to be helping you sneak around to secretly smoke
Holding up a scarf at what we thought might be a smoke alarm in the toilet
I didn’t expect to be introduced to your fiancé
The Sahrawi human rights-defending power couple
To be treated to lunch by both of you

Your greatest heroes are ordinary people too
Or perhaps, rather
Ordinary people can be great heroes too
Thank you, Nazha Khalidi

I’m Nadine from Malaysia and this is my first poetry marathon. I’ll be going for the 24-hours with my best friend who’s in Pakistan and hopefully we’ll be keeping each other awake. I started writing poems when I my mother bought me a narrow rectangular-shaped notebook at around nine-years-old, and since then I have written very occasionally (less than twice a year), so this marathon will certainly help me beef-up my collection. I can’t say anything for sure, but expect some poems about love, politics and prayer! I will be starting at 9pm here and the last time I pulled an all-nighter was when I was finishing up writing my thesis a year ago, so this should be interesting!

Wishing all the best to all the participants this year and I’ll see you tomorrow!