Nº. 1 of  9

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(chap) Book description:
Sort it out. Breathe. Make a peanut butter sandwich. Eat it. Start again. Will your fingers to hover over the keyboard again and wait with bated breathe as…
As…
As.
Nothing. Maybe this needs another try
Favourite quotes: 
“You’re in your head.
And in your head, there’s no escape.”
“For the truth is, there is no purely original story. There is no original thought, in the way that you define it. They are all built upon years and years of previous wonderings and ideas, discovery and chance. All of it, all of them, they are all a mixture of a little bit of this, and a little bit of that, the person you passed yesterday, the book you will read tomorrow, the headline you read in the newspaper, the passing words of an acquaintance, the squeeze of a loved one’s arms. And in this mess of a melting pot, amidst the haphazard collections you have’ stolen’ from the others and from the things, is where a most wondrous thing will happen: the birth of thoughts. Thoughts that are completely, and absolutely, original. Absolutely yours. They are original in the same way no two children are the same, no two fingerprints alike. No two snowflakes, though they come from the same sky. These thoughts were made in your head, imprinted with your particular brand of something that makes you you and nothing and no one will ever be able to take that from you or them.”
4 out of 5
—————————————————————
I’ve been a fan of Johara’s writing for a while now so I couldn’t believe this is a thing that existed until I saw it glowing back at me from my screen.
(Thank you Jaffat el Aqlam)
Let’s just say that if you gave me three separate pieces and didn’t tell me who wrote them. I will immediately know Johara’s from the rest because never in my 23 years of existence have I read something by someone so young who has such a distinct writing voice.
Her writing is heart warming yet has a hint of darkness to it and the photography compliments it well.
I often find it difficult (for me at least) trying to sum up thoughts on something someone you know created but with Culmination it just came naturally. Johara’s words deserve to be marvelled at and in the end that’s all I really have to say about it.
Recommended to everyone. Period.
Johara’s blog
The chapbook

(chap) Book description:

Sort it out. Breathe. Make a peanut butter sandwich. Eat it. Start again. Will your fingers to hover over the keyboard again and wait with bated breathe as…

As…

As.

Nothing. Maybe this needs another try

Favourite quotes: 

You’re in your head.

And in your head, there’s no escape.”

“For the truth is, there is no purely original story. There is no original thought, in the way that you define it. They are all built upon years and years of previous wonderings and ideas, discovery and chance. All of it, all of them, they are all a mixture of a little bit of this, and a little bit of that, the person you passed yesterday, the book you will read tomorrow, the headline you read in the newspaper, the passing words of an acquaintance, the squeeze of a loved one’s arms. And in this mess of a melting pot, amidst the haphazard collections you have’ stolen’ from the others and from the things, is where a most wondrous thing will happen: the birth of thoughts. Thoughts that are completely, and absolutely, original. Absolutely yours. They are original in the same way no two children are the same, no two fingerprints alike. No two snowflakes, though they come from the same sky. These thoughts were made in your head, imprinted with your particular brand of something that makes you you and nothing and no one will ever be able to take that from you or them.”

4 out of 5

—————————————————————

I’ve been a fan of Johara’s writing for a while now so I couldn’t believe this is a thing that existed until I saw it glowing back at me from my screen.

(Thank you Jaffat el Aqlam)

Let’s just say that if you gave me three separate pieces and didn’t tell me who wrote them. I will immediately know Johara’s from the rest because never in my 23 years of existence have I read something by someone so young who has such a distinct writing voice.

Her writing is heart warming yet has a hint of darkness to it and the photography compliments it well.

I often find it difficult (for me at least) trying to sum up thoughts on something someone you know created but with Culmination it just came naturally. Johara’s words deserve to be marvelled at and in the end that’s all I really have to say about it.

Recommended to everyone. Period.

Johara’s blog

The chapbook

(Source: nourareads)

(chap) Book description:
I hereby appoint myself the queen of Almost. My 22 years of existence on this planet can be summarized as a string of almost-successes and almost-failures. Not to be mistaken for the “lost in between” clan; I am never just in the middle. I?m either very unaesthetic-ly situated by the starting line, or by the finish line. Squatting in no-man’s land by either these sandbags or those sandbags. I am almost happy, almost neurotic, almost blessed and most definitely almost cursed. I write almost-perfect jokes and almost-heart-shattering confessions.
Almost.
Favourite quotes: 
“I’m an almost being with an almost life of almost concepts that almost make sense.”
“She wouldn’t be defined in any terms save for “she”. Because she is She, and no one else held a stronger claim to the name. She lived the pronoun and made it hers, she knew what a woman is with no books, no letters and no numbers. She shined down on those who would try to kill her glow, she taught them how to be once and again. She knew exactly how to bury herself deep within the membranes of our brains. She planted herself with her ridiculousness, her inexplicable fits, her not-so-naive-naivety, her threatening looks. She, an embodiment of all things out-worldly and reminiscent, knew how to be home for the homeless, and refuge for the faithless.”
Rating:
4 out of 5
—————————————————————
(previously published on goodreads with slight edits for nourareads)
It almost took me a year but I finally gathered the courage to go ahead and read this. (I’m quite ashamed of myself)
So, if you’re lucky enough to know Shaima then you’ll know that she is an incredibly smart, incredibly funny lady with a sharp wit that translates so wonderfully when written.
With that being said, I was, for the longest time intimidated to sit down and give this a go and it’s not because I’ve known Shaima for a while now (although that was part of it) but because I had a feeling that my puny brain won’t fully absorb the words and their brilliance.
I was wrong. Her words are accessible and clever and all the synonyms that mean exactly that. She has such a distinct writing voice that is dripping with sarcasm.
I don’t know, I am by no means a writer of Shaima’s calibre but I certainly enjoyed reading this and will be visiting it, and her blog, again in the (near) future.
Shaima’s blog
The chapbook

(chap) Book description:

I hereby appoint myself the queen of Almost. My 22 years of existence on this planet can be summarized as a string of almost-successes and almost-failures. Not to be mistaken for the “lost in between” clan; I am never just in the middle. I?m either very unaesthetic-ly situated by the starting line, or by the finish line. Squatting in no-man’s land by either these sandbags or those sandbags. I am almost happy, almost neurotic, almost blessed and most definitely almost cursed. I write almost-perfect jokes and almost-heart-shattering confessions.

Almost.

Favourite quotes: 

“I’m an almost being with an almost life of almost concepts that almost make sense.”

“She wouldn’t be defined in any terms save for “she”. Because she is She, and no one else held a stronger claim to the name. She lived the pronoun and made it hers, she knew what a woman is with no books, no letters and no numbers. She shined down on those who would try to kill her glow, she taught them how to be once and again. She knew exactly how to bury herself deep within the membranes of our brains. She planted herself with her ridiculousness, her inexplicable fits, her not-so-naive-naivety, her threatening looks. She, an embodiment of all things out-worldly and reminiscent, knew how to be home for the homeless, and refuge for the faithless.”

Rating:

4 out of 5

—————————————————————

(previously published on goodreads with slight edits for nourareads)

It almost took me a year but I finally gathered the courage to go ahead and read this. (I’m quite ashamed of myself)

So, if you’re lucky enough to know Shaima then you’ll know that she is an incredibly smart, incredibly funny lady with a sharp wit that translates so wonderfully when written.

With that being said, I was, for the longest time intimidated to sit down and give this a go and it’s not because I’ve known Shaima for a while now (although that was part of it) but because I had a feeling that my puny brain won’t fully absorb the words and their brilliance.

I was wrong. Her words are accessible and clever and all the synonyms that mean exactly that. She has such a distinct writing voice that is dripping with sarcasm.

I don’t know, I am by no means a writer of Shaima’s calibre but I certainly enjoyed reading this and will be visiting it, and her blog, again in the (near) future.

Shaima’s blog

The chapbook

(Source: nourareads)

Book description:
Annaleah and Brian shared something special - Annaleah is sure of it. When they were together, they didn’t need anyone else. It didn’t matter that their relationship was secret. All that mattered was what they had with each other.
And then, out of nowhere, Brian dies. And while everyone else has their role in the grieving process, Annaleah finds herself living outside of it, unacknowledged and lonely.
How can you recover from a loss that no one will let you have?
Favourite quotes: 
-
Rating:
2 out of 5
—————————————————————
oh Samantha,
We had a good thing going with I Don’t Want to Be Crazy. You wrote it in a  memorable way, something few books manage to accomplish. Having said that the same style didn’t translate well here.
In fact it had the complete opposite effect on me. It took me around a week to finish (which is too much really since it’s such a short book) where all I could think off is when will I reach the ending because this dragged on.
I stuck with it because I was expecting a revelation of some sort but no. There was nothing. The characters fell flat and the plot wasn’t engaging.
I will however be reading your next book when and if you come up with one because if there’s anything good to be said about your work is that it keeps you coming back for more.
I’m sorry if this isn’t much or coherent.
Your faithful reader,
Noura

Book description:

Annaleah and Brian shared something special - Annaleah is sure of it. When they were together, they didn’t need anyone else. It didn’t matter that their relationship was secret. All that mattered was what they had with each other.

And then, out of nowhere, Brian dies. And while everyone else has their role in the grieving process, Annaleah finds herself living outside of it, unacknowledged and lonely.

How can you recover from a loss that no one will let you have?

Favourite quotes: 

-

Rating:

2 out of 5

—————————————————————

oh Samantha,

We had a good thing going with I Don’t Want to Be Crazy. You wrote it in a  memorable way, something few books manage to accomplish. Having said that the same style didn’t translate well here.

In fact it had the complete opposite effect on me. It took me around a week to finish (which is too much really since it’s such a short book) where all I could think off is when will I reach the ending because this dragged on.

I stuck with it because I was expecting a revelation of some sort but no. There was nothing. The characters fell flat and the plot wasn’t engaging.

I will however be reading your next book when and if you come up with one because if there’s anything good to be said about your work is that it keeps you coming back for more.

I’m sorry if this isn’t much or coherent.

Your faithful reader,

Noura

(Source: nourareads)

Book description:
Racing Hummingbirds examines, critiques, and at times delights in one woman’s navigation through the many worlds of manic depression and her struggle to maintain humanity in the process.
Favourite quotes: 
“He is trying to understand but she is thunderbolt. Her tongue, a spear.”
“Your laugh is a thunderclap, you love like a surgery.”
“My body is melted wax, it is ripe and stink and bent. It is a mistake. I walk like an apology.”
“We are refracting magnets.
We will battle this to the end.”
“His own heart will empty him.”
Rating:
4 out of 5
—————————————————————
Jeanann, (can I call you Jeanann?)
This letter is one of apologies. I am so sorry that I ended up judging your words too soon and far too harshly. 
Let me begin by saying (and this is in no way an excuse) that I read your book a year ago and it was at a time when I haven’t really read much poetry and the ones that I did read were nothing like yours. They were easy.
Your words are nothing like that. They’re all sharp edges and they’re also fists ready to break down walls. But mostly they’re just truthful, in a way that’s painfully so. You don’t try and make things pretty because you know that some(most)times they’re not.
You know what needs to be said and you say it. I would like to thank you for that. And for a lot of things that you made me feel and experience while reading your collection of poetry but chiefly for making me believe in second chances. 
Your (now) faithful reader,
Noura

[//note// to find out more about her please feel free to checkout her blog on tumblr: jeanannverlee] 

Book description:

Racing Hummingbirds examines, critiques, and at times delights in one woman’s navigation through the many worlds of manic depression and her struggle to maintain humanity in the process.

Favourite quotes: 

“He is trying to understand but she is thunderbolt. Her tongue, a spear.”

“Your laugh is a thunderclap, you love like a surgery.”

My body is melted wax, it is ripe and stink and bent. It is a mistake. I walk like an apology.”

“We are refracting magnets.

We will battle this to the end.”

“His own heart will empty him.”

Rating:

4 out of 5

—————————————————————

Jeanann, (can I call you Jeanann?)

This letter is one of apologies. I am so sorry that I ended up judging your words too soon and far too harshly. 

Let me begin by saying (and this is in no way an excuse) that I read your book a year ago and it was at a time when I haven’t really read much poetry and the ones that I did read were nothing like yours. They were easy.

Your words are nothing like that. They’re all sharp edges and they’re also fists ready to break down walls. But mostly they’re just truthful, in a way that’s painfully so. You don’t try and make things pretty because you know that some(most)times they’re not.

You know what needs to be said and you say it. I would like to thank you for that. And for a lot of things that you made me feel and experience while reading your collection of poetry but chiefly for making me believe in second chances. 

Your (now) faithful reader,

Noura

[//note// to find out more about her please feel free to checkout her blog on tumblr: jeanannverlee

(Source: nourareads)

(chap) Book description:
"There is a time of day, in the evening, when the sun lays its head down in the dirt. Some people call this twilight. But I’ve always thought of it as ‘the magic hour.’ When anything can happen, everything is golden, and I am a boy again. That is the place these poems occupy."
Favourite quotes: 
"Because
there is gold stitched in this
there is gold stitched in us
and may the gods of the stars tremble
to ever think
that there was not.”
"There are drums inside of my chest
so loud that even
on the quietest nights
the ground trembles with light
when you are near.”
"In my hands you are a telescope 
i see things
so much clearer
and closer
when I am looking
through you.”
Rating:
5 out of 5
—————————————————————
First of all a huge thank you to Sara (who lent me this beauty) and without whom I might not have had a chance to read it.
I have been sighing ever since I finished reading this an hour ago. I wanted to keep it “fresh” in my mind when I wrote the review that I decided to get on that right away. Something that I’ve never really done before because I usually wait until I fully absorbed a piece of work before attempting to write something on it.
I started this and from the very first page was completely taken away with how beautifully Dalton puts things to words. 
The thing about his writing is that it feels all too familiar, like greeting an old friend but somehow it’s also entirely his own, something new.
You get this sense of elation once you finish reading it. Almost as if the words leaped out of the page and hugged you. And the way he describes the moon, my god. it’s enough to leave your soul feel both empty and full because of it.
Absolutely recommended to all poetry lovers.
Also, please feel free to check out more of Dalton’s work at his blog @myshoesuntied 

(chap) Book description:

"There is a time of day, in the evening, when the sun lays its head down in the dirt. Some people call this twilight. But I’ve always thought of it as ‘the magic hour.’ When anything can happen, everything is golden, and I am a boy again. That is the place these poems occupy."

Favourite quotes: 

"Because

there is gold stitched in this

there is gold stitched in us

and may the gods of the stars tremble

to ever think

that there was not.”

"There are drums inside of my chest

so loud that even

on the quietest nights

the ground trembles with light

when you are near.”

"In my hands you are a telescope 

i see things

so much clearer

and closer

when I am looking

through you.”

Rating:

5 out of 5

—————————————————————

First of all a huge thank you to Sara (who lent me this beauty) and without whom I might not have had a chance to read it.

I have been sighing ever since I finished reading this an hour ago. I wanted to keep it “fresh” in my mind when I wrote the review that I decided to get on that right away. Something that I’ve never really done before because I usually wait until I fully absorbed a piece of work before attempting to write something on it.

I started this and from the very first page was completely taken away with how beautifully Dalton puts things to words.

The thing about his writing is that it feels all too familiar, like greeting an old friend but somehow it’s also entirely his own, something new.

You get this sense of elation once you finish reading it. Almost as if the words leaped out of the page and hugged you. And the way he describes the moon, my god. it’s enough to leave your soul feel both empty and full because of it.

Absolutely recommended to all poetry lovers.

Also, please feel free to check out more of Dalton’s work at his blog @myshoesuntied 

10 books that built my backbone out of words

tagged by the ever delightful xiv-leyli

1. aristotle and dante discover the secrets of the universe by benjamin alire sáenz 
2. love and other small wars by donna-marie riley [ five—a—day ]
3. fahrenheit 451 by ray bradbury
4. breakfast of champions by kurt vonnegut
5. it’s a bird by steve t seagle
6. the catcher in the rye by j.d. salinger 
7. bridge to terabithia by katherine paterson 
8. yesterday won’t goodbye by brian ellis
9. المجنون لجبران خليل جبران
10. in search of midnight by mike mcgee [ mightymikemcgee ]

i tag bihh, imadorable, shadnalmajed, chos, songsevenn, no-getting-evenn-1984, alialghamdi, tammamshud, vivalavidayoda, knottedup, athoug, razzamatazztic, the-zeeee

Your bookshelves are so pretty! 😩❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ asked by maarraaam

Thank you so much!! I’m quite proud of them 😊

Hey ! A huge fan of the quotes you post on Instagram and have been following your account for a while now . I've read quite a few posts on Haruki Murakami , what genre is it ? And can you recommend a poetry book of his is any ? Thanks a ton ! asked by Anonymous

thank you for taking the time to write this, I alway appreciate it. Always. & i’m glad that you like my account. 

Haruki Murakami writes fiction with a hint of surrealism to it. He doesn’t have any poetry collections that I’m aware of and having done some search I couldn’t find much. maybe nothing that’s translated yet anyway.

if you’re interested in reading him then check out norwegian wood and sputnik sweetheart. both are incredible books!

hope i was of help and if you have anymore questions then please feel free to ask x

amnahposts asked for a picture of my bookshelves and here it is!
I moved into a new place a while ago but only bought shelves recently (I’m quite picky) It’s roughly arranged but the books on the left are poetry/picture books/comics and on the right fiction/nonfiction by read and unread.
There’s still some books scattered around but this is pretty much it. My room is basically my favourite place to be so even if it takes me a long time I try to make it as close as possible to what I picture in my head.
ps. sorry for the crappy picture. it’s only because the lighting in my room isn’t all that great.

amnahposts asked for a picture of my bookshelves and here it is!

I moved into a new place a while ago but only bought shelves recently (I’m quite picky) It’s roughly arranged but the books on the left are poetry/picture books/comics and on the right fiction/nonfiction by read and unread.

There’s still some books scattered around but this is pretty much it. My room is basically my favourite place to be so even if it takes me a long time I try to make it as close as possible to what I picture in my head.

ps. sorry for the crappy picture. it’s only because the lighting in my room isn’t all that great.

(Source: nourareads)

How hard was it your first steps of starting to read, your first book? asked by Anonymous

If you mean as a kid then I honestly don’t remember. I’ve always read, it was always something that came as second nature to me. Almost as effortless as breathing. I apologise if that sounded pretentious but that’s how it is right now.

If you mean something else please feel free to ask me again and I can give you a clearer answer. 

Nº. 1 of  9