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NINOTAZIZ: août 2013

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Decidedly, a bookworm who loves life and has been blessed with a warm quirky family in a quintessential country. Samedi, août 31, 2013. SSNC - A HIKAYAT A DAY CHE SITI WAN KEMBANG. Duduk di negeri Tanah Serendah Sekebun Bunga. The rest of the story can be found here. Vendredi, août 30, 2013. SSNC - A HIKAYAT A DAY : AWANG SULONG MERAH MUDA. The king’s greatest treasures were his four daughters. The eldest was Uli Emak, followed by Uli Pati Talak Terengganu, who was born to lead. Puteri Emak...After much ...

poemsbyninotaziz.blogspot.com

poemsbyninotaziz: November 2014

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I just sit upon a writing desk, and write. And then, I tell stories. Legends of long ago. BE Y Ond REal. Time moves along backwards. Hurtling like a comet. To a world where the music is. En C H an T ing. Courteous, and archaic. Expressions of love are. E MO tiona L UPHeava l s. Are euphoric and the look. Inviting one to the other side. S u R R enDE r. Subscribe to: Posts (Atom). WRITER. POET. AUTHOR With a passion for life, literature and legends. View my complete profile. SSNC - A Hikayat A Day. Quand j...

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poemsbyninotaziz: May 2015

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I just sit upon a writing desk, and write. And then, I tell stories. Legends of long ago. There was a Woman. There was a woman who wrote all night. We wonder why she wrote all night. Perhaps she wanted to do what she felt was right. There was a woman who wrote all night. We wonder why she wrote all night. She wrote all night to capture thoughts. We wonder why she captured thoughts. Perhaps to remind those who forgot. Perhaps to stop the rot. There was a woman who wrote all night. To our coded history.

poemsbyninotaziz.blogspot.com

poemsbyninotaziz: Childhood

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I just sit upon a writing desk, and write. And then, I tell stories. Legends of long ago. Oblivious, we only enjoy. Murder on the orient express. Mysteries of grey blue eyes. Courtesy of Agatha Christie. Bill's post takes me to the time at least 40 years ago. Dad was a manager at a timber company. We had to venture hinterland to see him. The train ride was at least 12 hours. North. South. At least I thought so. July 22, 2015 at 6:28 PM. July 22, 2015 at 8:55 PM. Good to see you Grace! A long train ride a...

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poemsbyninotaziz: June 2015

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I just sit upon a writing desk, and write. And then, I tell stories. Legends of long ago. My Monsoon…excerpt from NAGA. The north-eastern winds were becoming stronger and stronger until it developed into a full gale. They arrived like. A roaring tiger in the middle of the night. At times, the sound of it was deafening, you forgot time and place, it felt as if the storm that brought hail and fury would never end. I had forgotten the waves. Crashing, hitting, arriving. Against the wide beach. To be so close.

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poemsbyninotaziz: February 2015

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I just sit upon a writing desk, and write. And then, I tell stories. Legends of long ago. LEGENDS, AND THE TRUTH THEY TELL. The seas remain constant. Long after we are gone. People, cities and kingdoms. But the lores remain. To be called upon again. Like the sea, they return. We pray, never in vain. Epics young and old. Lessons of yesterday, retold. The need to believe. Keeps them within our fold. Legends, the truth we try to tell. Our visions of heaven and hell. And that, they will teach us well. PNM RT...

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poemsbyninotaziz: February 2016

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I just sit upon a writing desk, and write. And then, I tell stories. Legends of long ago. HAIBUN IN A BLINK. Photo courtesy of Gabriella. Where have all the people disappeared to? Do we say hello to one another down the street? Does Friday appear almost as soon as Monday is here? The weekend passes by in a blink. City is alive and aware. How have all my friends been doing? Do we still write emails and letters to each other? Does December appear almost as soon as soon as January arrives? A lone sprig grows.

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poemsbyninotaziz: July 2016

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I just sit upon a writing desk, and write. And then, I tell stories. Legends of long ago. If I could turn back the clock. Frozen in time, but never undone. Spoken in haste, and forever hanging. In that space between the dimension. Of forgiveness and pain. Through the tunnels of time. There is love that is overwhelming. But still not enough. It is not emptiness that remain. But bittersweet pain, the deep loss that knows. What will never be replaced. Subscribe to: Posts (Atom). View my complete profile.