tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4404532041287229382024-03-13T05:53:55.533-05:00the naked lightraw thought. undressed words.Nevine Sultanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08794887684860140819noreply@blogger.comBlogger377125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-440453204128722938.post-33954084911624942732022-11-20T06:34:00.052-06:002022-11-20T14:20:18.172-06:0011202022it's a new morning. the sky is grey and patchy with clouds. it rained again last night. and today. more of the same.i love the rain. i love the storm of it. i love driving in the rain. big drops of vaporized cloud hitting my windshield like gravity-drawn moths. the slow glide to the bottom of my windshield. the gentle pooling of rain on the asphalt ground, turning it from dirty grey to shimmeringNevine Sultanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08794887684860140819noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-440453204128722938.post-79095989832077174752020-11-14T07:30:00.000-06:002020-11-14T07:30:11.131-06:0011142020what?how?shallow.hollow.shall i deepen the questions with body?shall i soften them with emotion?why should i?i am tempted, not compelled.this.is truth.this.is intimate realization.this.is hopeful.this.is healing.this.is beyond.Nevine Sultanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08794887684860140819noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-440453204128722938.post-1700793242100563922020-10-26T10:34:00.005-05:002020-10-26T10:34:45.608-05:0010262020come, nowsit with me for a spelltogether, let us watchthe storm gatherlet us wait for the clouds to arrivecrystalline and coldwith melancholylet us become groundedin this wet earthbathing in the delugeof fat raindropsvanquishing old obsessionsandilluminating new shelterswho else can everknow this momentas we know it?who else will swimin the mercurial oceanof this .: and Nevine Sultanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08794887684860140819noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-440453204128722938.post-26843085348231452522019-09-29T09:03:00.001-05:002019-09-29T13:27:48.833-05:0009292019
after the dream.
i must hear the silence and not shy from its messages to my heart.
my heart must slow down and listen to the silence. embody the images.
my heart. must.
slow down, my heart
slow down
there is a secret longing inside you
i know. i know
within the quiet murmur of morning. i sit.
seeking to decipher something.
to clear a path. to find a Nevine Sultanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08794887684860140819noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-440453204128722938.post-2062428810251507862019-06-01T13:48:00.000-05:002019-06-01T14:01:52.423-05:0006012019
oceans hold history.
chronicles.
stories. narratives. accounts.
of the mind.
of the flesh.
of blood.
of spirit.
this is how the unknown is known.
given attunement and curiosity.
given consciousness and presence.
given roots. given ground.
given foundation.
life is awareness of self
and of other.
we are all social creatures.
with-ness is existence.
Nevine Sultanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08794887684860140819noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-440453204128722938.post-26438450216366604772019-05-17T13:29:00.000-05:002019-05-17T13:34:48.664-05:0005172019
this, now:
i hear you approaching
from a distance. my body
and mind don't need
this distraction.
but.
the voice of communion
enters my body and
makes my flesh
twinkle.
you touch me with
your serenity.
my throat fills with things
that don't need to be said.
come. let's sit together
on this firm earth
and feel the sturdy fence
rubbing against our shoulderNevine Sultanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08794887684860140819noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-440453204128722938.post-8189182204406072642019-04-19T15:47:00.002-05:002019-04-19T15:47:38.816-05:0004192019
treasure. treasure.
what shall i do
with this extreme of serenity?
i glide, convinced
there is something for me, and
convinced i no longer need to seek it.
i turn my hands open.
my shoulders.
my eyes.
my body moves.
motion.
groundedness.
anchor.
drift.
i arrive.
Nevine Sultanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08794887684860140819noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-440453204128722938.post-74873459824622612702019-02-15T16:25:00.000-06:002019-02-15T16:33:57.540-06:0002152019
light.
flight.
no weight on my shoulders.
no burden to hold me down.
Nevine Sultanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08794887684860140819noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-440453204128722938.post-48919863408556653642019-01-18T15:58:00.000-06:002019-01-18T15:58:18.136-06:0001182019how do we begin to have these conversations?
and, how many times must we stumble upon our own words?
i shut my eyes, a feeble effort to shut a memory down.
but, memories often refuse to play nice.
this memory will not let me be.
it moves. like a vagrant light
across a dark field.
i want to tell it, once more, to go away.
i want to tell it to freeze. cease. die.
i want to tell it things, but my Nevine Sultanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08794887684860140819noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-440453204128722938.post-82295509722637399182018-11-23T06:07:00.003-06:002018-11-23T06:07:59.404-06:0011232018
we lie down on the ground
whispering about what rises within us
and what the earth carries
while the sky lingers and waits
re-enchanting itself
weaving a madrigal of awakening
washing away the indecision
painting us with intention
Nevine Sultanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08794887684860140819noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-440453204128722938.post-21572537749932809122018-11-09T17:58:00.001-06:002018-11-12T18:49:07.121-06:0011092018share with me your thoughts. tell me. do you think i'm too serious? yes. i am. i already know this. but saying it is owning it: i am too serious.
i hear my voice inside my head. i speak the words out loud: i am too serious.
my inner child bristles: i am too serious?
i say the words. i own the words: i am too serious.
i am not words.
i am not narrative. i am not Nevine Sultanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08794887684860140819noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-440453204128722938.post-77581076985667470632018-11-04T06:18:00.001-06:002018-11-09T15:05:30.870-06:0011042018
i am moving / moving / constantly / unpredictably / where am i going next?
life presents itself to me / in all of its wonder
and / i explore my world
like an infant / in awe
like an ancient / in reverence
Nevine Sultanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08794887684860140819noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-440453204128722938.post-13287413285045423342018-10-27T08:27:00.000-05:002018-10-27T08:27:16.854-05:0010272018
intuition.
incubation.
discernment.
movement.
Nevine Sultanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08794887684860140819noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-440453204128722938.post-11145675169783817272018-10-19T17:14:00.003-05:002018-10-19T17:14:38.086-05:0010192018yes.
i know.
this is truth.
it exists in silent presence.
in a quiet corner.
inconspicuous.
i ask.
it shines.
world.
universe.
infinity.Nevine Sultanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08794887684860140819noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-440453204128722938.post-56057606732929042902018-06-24T06:09:00.000-05:002018-06-24T06:09:04.297-05:0006242018it is dawn—
a cool, sweet morning.
a gentle breeze laps at my cheeks.
i close my eyes and draw my breath
and sigh... exhaling slowly.
i lift my pen and write,
listening to the grass
and the dew
and the beauty held within
the tranquil horizon.
i am awake
and alive and
unwilling to escape
from the flow of life.
Nevine Sultanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08794887684860140819noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-440453204128722938.post-51677348358241773882018-06-16T13:50:00.003-05:002018-06-16T13:50:44.406-05:0006162018somewhere inside me
there is an oasis
for every dream
every scream
and every laugh
that emerges from
my deepest wells
visceral and untamed
here is where
i am most centered
most authentic and
vivified
the sky is filled
with quiet light and
bellowing blaze and
somewhere in between
there is a refuge
within which
the wholeness of me
is restoredNevine Sultanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08794887684860140819noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-440453204128722938.post-79699062029865969482018-06-10T06:31:00.001-05:002018-10-27T08:22:17.842-05:0006102018once again,
life is in motion.
and i am bedazzled.
rushed.
worn.
this morning,
i pause
beside my kitchen window
to witness and be witnessed.
life breaks through
every fragile boundary.
all the walls
are torn down.
i don't give an inch
to distraction.
i remain still.
i listen.Nevine Sultanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08794887684860140819noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-440453204128722938.post-42332058580625806062018-05-22T05:49:00.005-05:002018-05-22T06:00:45.110-05:0005222018now.
again.
i inhabit
this body.
i feed on silence.
i entrust myself
to my own tranquility.
Nevine Sultanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08794887684860140819noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-440453204128722938.post-17093031116458519802018-03-12T17:10:00.001-05:002018-03-12T17:16:46.991-05:0003122018
she said,
i want to spread the word
about what happened.
i want the truth
to be known.
i said,
we can use words to create
magic or to create calamity.
speak judiciously.
be mindful what you say.
Nevine Sultanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08794887684860140819noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-440453204128722938.post-90473692931798752362018-02-25T08:14:00.001-06:002018-02-25T08:14:18.149-06:0002252018
the confluence of sky and sea...
... the inimitable expression of reverence.
Nevine Sultanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08794887684860140819noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-440453204128722938.post-58749088154496935122018-02-04T12:18:00.004-06:002018-02-04T12:18:43.882-06:0002042018
a minute can go by quickly,
or so very slowly.
this minute… like driftwood
in this vast, gushing river.
other pieces of driftwood
swim together close by.
i float briefly, feeling the water
ripple over my skin. i immerse
myself in the sacredness of
this stream of nature.
i gather strength and wade
back to shore, a net of
driftwood dragging
behind me.
Nevine Sultanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08794887684860140819noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-440453204128722938.post-6532497727767407442018-01-27T13:46:00.000-06:002018-01-27T13:46:28.363-06:0001272018
i say ‘we,’ so much easier than saying ‘i.’
i say a word, but what i mean is
something behind it.
i say, ‘we hide behind our other faces,’
but what i mean is
‘i hide behind this farcical lie.’
there is such loneliness in ‘i.’
such hollowness… such solitariness in knowing
there is no one to share your i-ness with you.
to exist inside a certain state&Nevine Sultanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08794887684860140819noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-440453204128722938.post-77495561538861871292018-01-21T06:52:00.000-06:002018-01-21T14:01:46.547-06:0001212018
sometimes, one must rest—i must rest—from
the ubiquity of life. but. i go one step
further. i lie down to sleep.
that is my intention.
to sleep.
a failed intention,
as it turns out.
instead,
i feign sleep.
someone once told me that
pretending is a surefire
step in the direction
of truth.
i say, if pretense be my truth
Nevine Sultanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08794887684860140819noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-440453204128722938.post-44981776102517676632018-01-16T15:43:00.000-06:002018-01-16T15:43:18.131-06:0001162018today.
found time.
unanticipated.
it greets me.
i grin.
i observe it
as though it were
an optical illusion.
it is,
isn't it?
the afternoon is pulsing,
resonant and serene,
filled with possibility.
i dare to be with
the extraordinary.
i dare because,
not to dare...
i am seized by a radiance
that demands no
return.Nevine Sultanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08794887684860140819noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-440453204128722938.post-42806301196402797822018-01-02T17:15:00.001-06:002018-01-02T17:15:11.745-06:0001022018
bark. stark.
angles. dreams.
vitality. audacity.
anticipation. desecration.
the skin whimpers.
the spirit churns.
a vacant chair
sits by a window.
a desiccated orange rind
rests beneath a table.
don’t let’s talk about hunger, please.
Nevine Sultanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08794887684860140819noreply@blogger.com