Newborn

by Ameena Bakaev

Awakening with a deep breath from heart

And with that cry of life that’s heard first

A beauty beyond comparison

That brings joy and warmth

Such a beautiful cry that breaks the hardest metal

That’s the one, That’s the newborn

The beautiful creation of god

That’s the smile

That’s the hope

That’s the new joyful greeting

And here is the grateful acceptance

Here is the great care of love

The mother, The father, The relatives

Greeting that beautiful angel

To a world that’s the opponent

And life that’s waiting to live,

Meeting others, meeting the creator

Choosing the right path, fighting for the right path

Finding love and following footsteps

Patience and payback for love and care

And finally with the same smile

Preparing for the next journey in the after life

While here is the pain of separation

That’s it, Life, an endless journey

Capture the ABP Patterns

Photo by Michael Grossman

This week, the Creative Writing Club had planned to meet with the Photography Club for our third dual-club endeavor, but none of their club members showed up! In all fairness, on the verge of the end of the semester and finals, it is a difficult time of year. Anyway, we wrote off into the sunset without them and look forward to resuming our meetings with them in the Spring semester. Good luck everyone...

In our writing, we spent much of our time capturing the PATTERNS that we noticed around the ABP. What's that? Patterns? You don't understand? Read some of our results below...

Photo by Michael Grossman

Diamond Around

by Nayrouz A. ElAzzabi

One her, one them!
Blue carpet inside, cloudy sky outside.
Standing teacher sin here, sitting students in there.
Scattered papers on the table,
Passing ideas in my mind.
It's in here, it's in there.
Look around, look inside.
Outside is a pattern, inside a miracle.
Systematic organs, organized systems.
White blood cell, red blood cell.
Take O2 in, let CO2 out.
Inhale in a way, exhale in another way.
Let it in, let it out.
It is a pattern, ain't it?!
What is that, who is that?
One circle, one line.
Does it have a pattern?
Does it exist?
Is it here? Is it here?
Yes, it is all in a pattern.

Photo by Michael Grossman

a yellow swirl

like an abstract sun
the Faculty of Islamic Studies logo
a wall of ovals          white and grey
wooden slats on the lockers
the checkerboard texture on Lecture Hall C
outlined with rectangle lights set in the floor
blue with black lines and dots
flags of your teachers' countries of origin
white and green stripes on the leaves of the plant
a circular speaker cover
the light at the top of the column

Photo by Michael Grossman

Shapes Again & Again

by Fatema Abdul Salik

Blue concentric circles,

Red square boxes.

Everything seems to be full of patterns.

The silver metal running on the ground,

Each small black line in the clock.

All patterns seem to be hidden to the hurrying eye.

Blue, purple and red,

The spines of books so colorful and repeated.

Patterns hidden in the cloudy sky.

The black stones on white cloth,

The thin veins of the leaves.

Everything seems to be full of patterns.

Photo by Michael Grossman

Give Thanks

As the American holiday of Thanksgiving is approaching, write about something for which you are thankful.

See you next week for our last meeting of the semester!

Journeying on Well-Traveled Roads

By Fatema Abdul Salik

I miss the days that were.

My brother was young and I could carry him everywhere.

When dawn would rise and I would not hurry.

Walk around with eyes sleepy and blurry.

My mother would take care—

Of anything I needed for my daily fare.

I miss the days that were.

My brother was young and I could carry him everywhere.

Sitting on the kitchen counter with my legs swinging.

The scents that now leave memories lingering.

Every year I waited for rain that would freeze.

My hair flying in the cold breeze.

Those childhood days that leave me pining;

Where mama and papa were my only stars shining.

I miss the days that were.

My brother was young and I could carry him everywhere.

Mother

by Ameena Z. Bakaev

Tears that are wiped

Hands that are held

A warmth that is around

Non limited joy

Kindness of an angel

Youngness of an immortal

One and only

Unbreakable love

Massive care

Over her own

To a yet to be born

Her feet's above paradise

Everlasting miracle 

Reaching closer than other

Weather

Weather doesn't really change much here; however, after a few consecutive days of rain and otherwise stormy weather, everyone thought it would be a good idea to write about it.

I am the Weather

by Ameena Z. Bakaev

I am the weather

I surround all around

I can show and I can hide

I can see and I can talk

And paint the picture that I want 

I am the weather

I am the one

I'm the dusty, I'm the fog 

I'm the snowy, I'm the sunny 

And therefore I can paint myself 

I am the weather 

I am the cause 

I am the ruler, I command 

I can switch and I can flip

The atmosphere that's in my fist

I am the weather 

I am your friend 

I am your enemy 

I am a family

And I judge back the way I'm judged 

And for the last time

Missed

by Nadia ElMeragawi

The vows they had made
To honour and love
In the eyes of God above
Had been broken
Simply tossed away
Left to fade
Day after day
Leaving nothing but despair
Leaving unlived moments
Days that could have been
But never were
Made up of words
Words of kindness
That our poor hears crave
Never spoken
Left to fade
Ended love, ended respect

Looking back
Things could have been done differently
Moments lived, moments loved
Words spoken
Nothing left inside
Our hearts opened up wide
With no need to hide
The feelings within
Out in the world
Expressed, lived, remembered.

I miss the moments
The possibilities
Days I could live
Days I could have lived
Feelings I once had
Vows that once were made.

How Do I Like the Weather?

by Alia Ali Al-Semeiti

The sun crosses the clouds
you can't see
the sun, but you can feel the heat in
the air.
When the clouds spit on me
wind and sun with blue sky
hearing raindrops
when wind makes trees dance.

Raining Tears of Joy and Happiness

by Noor Odeh

Raining tears of joy and happiness, wishing I can go back to the happy moments I shared with loved ones. Tears of happiness pour down my face covering the tears of sadness and sorrow. I express when darkness rises in the day, i feel, and see the past flash before my eyes. Trying to catch time, but it's so fast. Time is my enemy. Moments of happiness trapped in the past, I know it's certain they can never come back or be replayed. I just have to live in the present and future with the feeling of wanting to cry under the rain.

Exquisite Corpse Haiku Chain

This week, the Creative Writing Club members created an exquisite corpse composed of haiku chains. We all contributed words to the following master set of vocabulary: chop, cold, cry, extract, mountain, oil, run, table, tree, wave, wind and wrench.