Scream With Love Flavor

I am an ordinary woman who takes her depth of thought seriously. I write with passion that carries me somewhere I do not know. When I am alone with my pen, I may find myself in a barren desert, or on a corner of a sad path, or perhaps I find myself on the shore of oblivion, laying on the sands of memories… I may go through storms, and I may set fires.

The Echo Of Words

Do not your words be a sword that kills me .. It hurts me…dripping from my blood. Let your words be a balm that heals my wounds. Let it be a station to remember and smile…Recall it and pray for you. Let your words motivate me to creativity and excellence. Do not make me regret that I heard you one day… Make me come back…and come back to the warmth of your words Written by Rania.

Lyrical Pictures

This anthology is a collection of various poems that describe the poet’s life journey from his small town to the capital, and then later traveling in many and different countries in search of achieving the dreams that occupied the writer during his childhood and early youth. This poetry collection varies in its content between poems of an emotional, flirtatious nature, and others of a critical social nature that try to shed light on what can be improved in the daily life of an ordinary person in his home city, and then his experience in life and moving between several countries. This collection focuses on the dreams of young people that are exposed to many difficulties and challenges in Arab societies, foremost of which is the material challenge, the moral challenge of self-confidence, and the willingness to experiment.

Nostalgia Solo

Through the roads of nostalgia, The sun does not shine, The letters are neglected, The bouquets of roses are thrown, A perfume bottle filled with the breath of longing, A coffee dripping with tears of rain, Lost eyes in the contours of the passersby, And the forgotten Chopin music in the crowd memory.

Crows On Fetish

Texts were written within two years, two deaths, and one birth, are like delusions that come as a poet wandering from himself, turning his eyes - as long as he lives - on emptiness and being absorbed by a sadness that looks like him.

For two years I wrote this, survived pathological erasure on every text I wrote, eighty tribe survived, you survive now, only you.

The Misfortune Of The Poem

We are putting between your hands a book of popular poetry... various poems... patriotic and social, and praise and spinning, which I loved to collect, preserve and publish.

You might like this book; I hope you like it.

Arabic Attraction

When I saw your eyes, I became an artist

I paint with words and color with feelings

Your eyes that improved my language skill

and added forms and movements that wasn’t existing

such as the hands, eyes and heart movements

The most beautiful thing in love is loving you

and the most beautiful thing in this book

is your beauty painted with words.

Question Marks Do Not Accept The Division

This collection contains short poetic texts from free modern poetry, prose poems, and very few acrostic poems. The texts of these poems deal with various ideas, feelings, and questions, with meanings that may be clear and realistic—expressing concrete experiences—and fictional and dreamy derived from the revelation of the poet’s imagination. The first and last poem express how the poet loves his wife, Hammam, whose name is mentioned in several poems. Almost no poem is free of questioning, but do these signs accept division by poet’s life stations? Will the poet accept what was divided for him? The reader will judge.

The Return Of A Dream

A flock of dreams disturbed my sleep,
so I poured half of them onto the paper.

And I made a promise not to reveal its secret,
Until it became like a beaming reality.

I ran screaming, frightened of her
appearing in a captivating dress.

My Desire Will Not Be Fulfilled

They are lines that used to be a torch that lights up the pages, and today they are breezes in the land of memory that have nothing but radiance this morning, and they wear the letters of prose.

Sarmad

I have poured my heart into these pages. As you turn from one page to the next, you will feel the contradictory emotions I grappled with as I gathered my thoughts and put ink to paper.

Silence has often overwhelmed me, leaving me unable to console even a friend due to profound feelings of displacement. In those wordless moments, I discovered a wealth of expressions my tongue could not articulate, my silence a means of survival amid the roiling sentiments of those around me.

In the ocean of my heart, you will glimpse situations my voice could not speak of and my feet could not withstand. Perhaps those unspeakable traumas were authored by me, or perhaps by the friends surrounding me.

If you seek, behind my silence, the emotions stirred within me during any given moment, you will find them immortalized in my book Sarmad.

Have Mercy On My Heart

One of them once asked:
Is love life bitter?
Another answered:
It varies according to the hearts
Sometimes it is a blessing and sometimes it is an ember
It may last forever, and it may be a stumbling block
Try it, maybe for you it will last a lifetime and be pleasurable
And maybe it will chain you to a rock
And you will start looking for ways to be free again..

Love creates miracles
And makes life deny life
Love, my dear, takes the soul on a journey to happiness
It takes the soul flying between universes
To forget everything that scared it and drowned it with sorrows
And it makes the heart live among the birds
Flying high and spreading peace among all the houses
With melodies filled with tones of lovers' memories
And moments immersed in the imagination of the kings of sparkling love
Who sit on the thrones of Jasmine
And get blasted with breezes of perfume and longings