Are you a writer?
(Are you asking me?)
I am asking you
Are you a writer?
I am not a writer
I am not the one you think of
Though my thoughts are put down
into words
It doesn’t make me a writer
Though I can think of the way
how the writer thinks
I am not a writer
I have paragraphs but loose
I have ideas but ambiguous
I have syntax, clusters, sentences
if not all run-off; obscure and vague
I am, therefore, not a writer
though I can write literally the way
how the writer writes
with wads of paper, pointed pens
clattering keypads
I am still not a writer
even to say that I am not yet a writer
nor a promising writing
nor to be created
and even if my name will park
in the guild of fame
I would proclaim selfishly
I am not a writer
why am I writing?
I write simply to vomit my ruining mind
my wild thoughts, my weird ideas
my shattered dreams, my burren memories
and gather into a voluminous pages of words
that could
move reader’s heart
and make them think
what do you think?
Am I NOW a writer?
written at dubai mall, uae
9/8/11
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