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Nurul Shamsul
Malaysia/ New Zealand

Four Steps To Standing on a Horse - Penny Howard - 2014
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Nurul Shamsul is a Malaysian and Indonesian by blood but a kiwi at heart. Ever since she was five, she has been living in Morrinsville, New Zealand but kept dearly to her are her cultures' traditions and her faith. Now at seventeen, poetry has become an important part of her life as she can't get through the day without reading or writing poetry. Her favourite quote which is from the Persian and Sufi mystic poet is: "Let the beauty of what you love be what you do."- Rumi


The Bittersweet Incident

Two steps back,
Regret.
And yet
Love steps in with open arms.

Breathing in the last breath of innocence,
                               Taking it in,
But fearing
                               All at once.

Eyes closes,
                      Acceptance.

Time ticks forward,
Let it
              Stop,
Let me
              Hold onto this moment,
Let it
              Last.

But nothing
                     Ever
                             Does.

Breathing out the guilt formed inside,
      Gasping for mercy,
But desiring
                     For more.

Eyes open,
                     Lust.

Time ticks forward,
Bittersweet silence-
For this
                Is a secret.

A shrug here,
                        A shrug there,
                                                   Shyness.

Two steps away,
Regret.
And yet
Love still waits.





The Viewfinder


Through the viewfinder,
Your smile
Had shined brighter,
Than the halo
Which follows
Your every step.

I smiled too
Because
You’re beautiful
And I lingered,
To seize
Your beauty.

A moment of infinity
Captured;
A sense of realisation,
Clicked.

Your picture-
No;
Your whole being
Speaks a thousand words,
But I was left
Speechless
In your aura.


And from the longing
Reflected in your eyes,
I saw
And I understood.

You had not smiled
For the camera;
You had
Only
Smiled
For

Me.





The bench

A no,
Is a no.
But do my eyes deceive my words?
Have they told the fool so?
To come and follow,
To sit and talk
On the bench?

I sit on one side,
While the fool sits on the other.
And it feels as if
Oceans are held in the space between.

Seagulls linger in the whistling wind,
The sun swallowed by the glistening water,
A picturesque setting;
Will this be the place
Where it
All
Begins?

But could the fool not see
The swells of the raging waves ahead?
Or
Could the fool only see
The light,
From the halo of my
Innocence?

Don’t be a fool by
Trying to swim,
To float,
Or to sail across the oceans-
There is an inevitable storm in between.

Oh you fool;
You will drown in the
Delusion
Of happiness,
Of love.

Just stay where you are,
Safe and unbroken,
On the other side
Of
The bench.





One over The Other

one was so cruel,
the other is so gentle.

one made me cry,
the other makes me smile.

one rarely took notice,
the other calls me beautiful.

one is my soulmate,
the other is too perfect.

one loves another,
the other loves me.

one,
why did you leave?

the other,
please don't stay.





Artificially Sweet

life isn’t full of lemons
& lemonade can be sour

but you keep smiling
through the bitter
& you keep saying
that everything is sweet

& you look all cool
but you are always feeling cold

& you keep adding 'sugar'
but only to deceive them
as your life is artificial

& your identity isn't real





The Liberation of Wine

Pashmina blended with the softest silk,
It's colour of wine so sweet
But so sinful,
Conceal
My
Loyalty to God.

Proudly,
It dances in the wind so freely
But secured are
My values,
My identity.

However,
'Modern' is the society.
And 'backwards' is I,
The girl
In the silk pashmina,
Wine red scarf.

But
Liberated
I am,
To know I can be
Beautiful
With just inner beauty

And to
Mystify
Wonderers of my outer beauty.

So

Who
Are
You

To say I am 'oppressed'?

And

Who
Are
We

To 'believe' the media?

Don't look at me.
Look into me;
For I am a girl

Liberated

With her silk pashmina,
Wine red scarf.