Spring Delusions

| August 16, 2018

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Words are our only tools to express the physicality of the chaos in our minds.
It is tedious and painstaking process to create something, anything. Emotions are not words, hence, to put them as such, requires quite a bit of searching, meandering and stumbling. I believe my affair with these alphabets will never be satiated. Yet, I have tried to sing some broken tunes, sketched some bleakness and shared fragments of my inner hope.
I have often had a love hate relationship with poetry. Its enigmatic power has often left me confused but also enlightened me. Although rhymes are fun and easy to tap your foot to, it is the rhythm or sometimes, the lack of it that can truly sear through the heart. For me, simplicity is key. It is graceful. It is alluring.
Each poem is handwritten, followed by typewrite for easy bookmarking and commenting and is accompanied by an illustration, meticulously and thoughtfully crafted. I refuse to acknowledge that illustrations are for children’s books only. There is no age limit to vision. Seeing is as much a part of feeling as reading and imagining is. I hope you enjoy them as much as I have in making them.
The poems I write do not follow any rule in particular. Although well-versed in writing verses, I opt to experiment with a variety of things, from alliteration to repetitions, and rhyme to meters, and mirroring to collating. Some poems have written themselves. Some, I have agonized over for days and nights. Writing and rewriting, getting it just right and then starting all over again. It is an organized pandemonium of the human self.

About the Author
Zahra Ammar holds an MA in English with a penchant for economics, food and creativity. An author and a poet, she is also a teacher and a learner, a procrastinator and a creative mess. She has been passionately teaching High School English and Economics for the past eight years, and reads voraciously whenever awake. She is also into calligraphy and doodles and spends her time exploring and questioning the rare and the mundane.
A Keats at heart, a Whitman in expression, a Dickenson in style and enamored by Rumi, she follows no one but her own voice.
You can see her current work and musings on her blog https://zahraammar.wordpress.com/

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