Impromptu Poem 19/07/2017

I wander in but one form

without a truth and into the trees.

My eyes rise.

the blinding sunlight is stifled

by a mess of branches that

only leaves regret at my own


with life, with minds, with hearts…


I keep walking

clad in a mosaic of shades.

With each step I take,

It gives me a new form –

but only of darkness.


It’s been a long time since I wrote poetry. One of the things I regret: not sticking to poetry. It’s been very therapeutic for me.

Impromptu Poem 17/01/2017

The Greatest Wall in the World

There is this wall somewhere in my mind,

everywhere in the world and it is the greatest.

This wall is invisible and is visible to all.

Anyone can reach it, effortlessly, just like breathing.

Most times, it is what we want to be.

A wall of reflection and projection.

A birthplace of great ideas

that pushed us far into our journey in this world

but it is a shame that now we might consider

anything other than Imagination being the greatest

because once we do, the wall will turn into a ceiling.


© Waseem Sherif | 17/01/2017 

Impromptu post for Weekly Discover Challenge



[Journal] Impromptu post 12/01/17

Back to wordpress after a long absence.

I’m sort of lost in finding my way through both the material world and the virtual. I have lost sight of what’s outside the walls. I can only see the ghosts of things now and their fleeting interval of existence.

I indulge myself in my arts feeding off of this negative state. Trying to determine the path through color tones and language nuances even if most of the time they betray me.

I end up fading into a self I never knew before.

I Run; I Disappear

I run.
a life of fruitless choices chase
after me as I run towards an
alternate path
but only in my mind.

I run.
the ghosts of things I cling to
walk in my shadow until the darkness of
eclipse devours them
and they disappear…

Words I left behind make up
the nonsense that would read like
fake ancient murals telling
the end of worlds.
Eventually they’d be eaten away by time
and become a testament to nothing.

Some voices push me to the edge
by their rejecting and hateful screams.
Some voices cushion me just by
the echoes of their soft whispers
yet I disappear
for deep inside, I want to…


Waseem Sherif © 03/08/2016

One Hundredth Post

This is my 100th post on wordpress! ^_^

I’m really not blogger material. I suck at writing. but I have my personal reasons for having this blog so I’m still a bit glad I made it to 100 posts. >_<

I decided to repost the poem in my first post on this blog.


I awake to the stale scent of life.
closing in walls confuse my eyes
as I rise to swallow my bland hours
in mechanical motions.

In this dwelling of guilt,
I consume my own dreams
I flee from myself
only to fall in the trap of existence:
false of nature and naturally artificial.

I wash my face before the mirror
it throws it back at me
drenched in disdain

I converse with withered Jasmine
hanging from that old chipped vase.
As I drink my coffee
slow paced
to feel every bitter sip that I deserve

I stare across the room
to the tilted frames of regret.
They conjure up memories
that I watch in monochrome gray
as my eyes chase the shapes
of cigarette smoke.

so I dip my quill in my Turkish coffee
and write upon piles of dry stains
distorted words and mutilated visions
on the edge-line of sanity.

The Strength Behind Frailty

There is a little world

hidden inside our hearts.

a two-faced principle that

follows and defies the rules

of our existence.

it’s a place where our feet

land when we stumble.

at its core, gravity pulls

our weakness at the moment

of our fragility;

it also turns it to strength and

sends it back to our nonhidden heart

so we can advance once again

and reach new heights.

Waseem Sherif  18/07/2016

something on-the-spot for the Daily Prompt: Frail.

Unrevised Thoughts 18/07/2016

Written for the Daily Prompt: Drive.


I’m looking at the world

and I’m looking at mine

I can’t help but notice

the difference in our drive


See the people yearning

the sun scorching

I’m scared of the heat

I put a hold on my life.


I have some time to think

why is it that I’m here?

questions fill my mind

the world closes in on me


It is occupied by movement

which I’m incapable of following

although I know what propels it

I can’t accept its pragmatic nature


my drive shall be my own

from its inception to the movement

that will follow

and I will be gliding towards

the sun daring and unafraid.


Waseem Sherif  18/07/2016

[Impromptu poem] a little bit of fact and a little bit of fiction. 

Unrevised Thoughts 14/07/2016

born of clouds

mind wanderer silent among

grey-scale skies

strays in its own colorlessness

floating away from the weight of life

carried by its soft breaths to

the mystery it longs for

a creation of endlessness

consciously and subconsciously drives it

to the dreamiest corners of self-deception

trapping it in a Room of Empty Reveries

amidst the broken shape of its words,

their inception and their aftermath.


Waseem Sherif © 14/07/2016

un-revised thoughts, again! courtesy of insomnia and a mind that thinks too much for its own good!