Hopless Poet with his Hopeless Rhymes

“Sometimes the person gets very depressed so he starts writing depressing stuff and they turn out to be good so even after the depression period had ended he continues and finishes the good piece of writing for the joy of it. I write because that makes me feel good and I think it has something to do with my self-esteem”

These are the words of Hopeless Poet, a poet where he emerged from the shores of the Arabian Gulf. The silence of the wind blowing from the seaside, shattering the grains of sand. In sublime of the waves a poetic voice was born, like a mystical ocean in its uniqueness, he too wanted to remain a mystery. “I called myself Hopeless Poet. It was when I started my blog. You can say I was in a hopeless mood. I don’t like to put my real name online but if anybody chatted with me I wouldn’t mind telling my real name and many other things that I won’t post in my blog or anywhere else online!” He explained the reason for being anonymous.

He never thought he will become a poet “I never imagined myself writing poetry when I was a kid. And actually I used to make fun of the whole poetry thing! My older sister and my younger brother started writing before me and I think they were surprised to see me writing. You can say that I am a late boomer.” Hopeless Poet recalls his past, and smiling as he continues on his memory lane. “It was 2002, I was driving the car back from a repair shop and I composed the lines in my mind and when I arrived home I wrote them in a paper. My 1st poem was “The Old Man”. I don’t know if what I have is a talent in writing poetry or not, but I can say that 2002 was the start. Then I stopped for a while and returned in 2004 and didn’t stop since.”

The Old Man

I saw an old man walking in the street

He hardly walks as he pulls out his feet

Trying as he might to lose the crowd

And failing in that I may should add

I wonder why his face looks so recognizable

He never looked my way like I was invisible

I swear I saw that face before

Where and when, no answers and nothing more

A face that filled my heart with terror

Oh god I remember I saw that face in the mirror

Where did I go wrong in my life?

Why does time wound more than the knife?

Where is my family, where are the loved ones?

I feel lonely and I live in sadness

I tried to shout I tried to scream

Only to hear the phone ringing, and thank god it was only a dream

Copyright Hopeless Poet

Hopeless Poet defines himself as "classic wannabe", his poetry are rarely other than rhythmic structure. When writing its all about the poem itself, “When I write a poem I don't think of a style of my own and my only goal is for the poem to be as good as I can make it to be and since I am not a native speaker of the English language I have to search and check if some words are acceptable to be put with other words and for grammar purposes and so on. Many things around inspires me. A nickname I may like or a line in a song or a chat with a friend or a dream,” he says. He opt his passion by reading collective work of classic poetry and the work of William Blake, William Wordsworth, Rupert Brooke, Bronte Sisters, Robert Lee Frost, Edgar Allan Poe and Henry Wadsworth Longfellow seem to inspire and influence his poetry. “The poet in me decided to read classic to improve”, he affirms.

Though his words is not published in form of a book, Hopeless Poet has gained popularity through World Wide Web, “It allowed me to post my poems in specialized sites and my own sites and get feedback and support from the readers. But I admit I was very reluctant to post any of the poems because I was afraid that some will steal them and post them under their names and get all the credit. At the end I opted to post”.

Lost

Looking at the mirror close enough
Wondering about yourself
Thinking about your old memories
That were forgotten upon an empty shelf
Pictures of loved ones scattered around the room
Frameless and dusty
That old bed of yours
The steel posts are rusty
You remember the sleepless nights you spend
Thinking about that someone
About your dreams and fantasies
And how they all come to none
Shattered just like that window's glass
Broken into pieces and scattered on the floor
No matter how hard you try to pick them up
They are there to wound and hurt you more

Copyright Hopeless Poet

He strongly advice, “Read as much as you can from others work and don't be shy to let others read your work and give their opinions and don't feel down when they criticize and point out the mistakes in the poems you have written.”

“At the end, I would like to thank you Nasra for giving me this opportunity to answer questions about myself and my poetry. And I also would like to thank the readers for their continuous support and comments, without them I wouldn't be where I am right now.”

Ocean of Secrets

Do we dare to explore

What goes beyond that shore

To risk and take the chance

How far we'll advance

In reaching deep inside

To the mysteries that resideWithin your lonely heart

And the battles taken part

The struggles between right and wrong

The endless attempts to stay strong

Will we ever be able to reach out?

And get to know without a doubt

To reveal the secrets that you hold

The tales that never been told

Or we're gonna drown in your oceanA

nd get lost between chaos and confusion

Like those before who went astray

Trying to find your secret hideaway

Copyright Hopless Poet

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