(Book Review) SOLILOQUY by Nor Azian Hashim // Spoiler-Free

Title: Soliloquy

Nor Azian Hashim

Genre: Poetry

Synopsis: SOLILOQUY, is a collection of poems from a mother’s point of view.


I was a little bit skeptical when I bought this book because I didn’t know whether I would like modern poetry. I’m a picky reader especially when it comes to something I specialise in too. Modern poetry just doesn’t flow naturally for me. In my opinion, real poetry has to be strong, and at the same time powerful too. It needs to have meaning, and sometimes you need to carefully choose words that would convey your true feelings, so that I as a reader could feel what you’re going through.


Not to say I am a better poet than other poets. I’m not. Few people say I am. I don’t think that’s true. It’s just that some things are to our liking. We have different tastes. Different opinions too. And that’s fine.


When I turned to the first page, I was hooked with this one sentence from the first poem she has written.


“I am no Dickinson or Wordsworth.”  


OMG! Yes! That’s how I feel every time I put words on paper. She literally talks about how we, poets or authors or anyone in that matter, cannot be as great as Shakespeare, or the famous writers from the past, and present. That poem shook me, in a good way.


The pacing for all of her poems was good. When I read each poem, I asked myself these questions: Why was she writing this? What was she feeling when she wrote this? What was the meaning conveyed?


I enjoyed all the poems, and they flowed naturally like a quiet stream. Some swallowed me into a whirlpool, and I couldn’t breathe. But once I understood the author’s feelings throughout the poem, I could breathe again.

I rate this 5/5. Hands down this is the best poetry book I’ve read so far this year!


Alex is signing out.

Copyright (©) of alexwritesandsings

My Friend’s Coming! (a short story)

It has been a while since my last post, but let me be honest with you, I have no idea what to post. Over these past few days, I have been feeling lonely and sad. So one evening, I was browsing through some instrumental music on YouTube, and there was one piece of music, which in the end, gave me the inspiration to write a short story I have not written in a while. Thus, I opened a blank document, and started scribbling away. I wrote a flash fiction. I call it My Friend‘s Coming.

My Friend’s Coming

He is coming. I know he is going to come because he is my best friend. Best friends don’t say they’re coming and in the end don’t end up showing. They come. That is what friends are all about.

He will come.

I was so happy when he rang me up and asked me whether I wanted to hang out. I went for it because I knew he would come around and spend time with me and not spend time with his ridiculous friends. His friends treat him like dirt. Friends who betray one another if the other is in trouble are not friends.

However, I do not do that. I am his friend and he will come. I know he will. No doubt in my mind that he will. He will not make me wait. Friends don’t do that, do they?

Three hours had passed, and teardrops began to fall as I watched the snowflakes fall from the skies as if they were signaling me to leave, telling me I have done enough waiting.

Friends don’t leave.

They wait for one another to be right there for each other. Friends do that. That is what friends are for. No matter where you are, they will wait until you return because they care, and love you. Friends are like family. They understand you, and stand by you whenever you need someone or you’re going through some difficulties. They know what to say, and how to make you feel better, to make you see the sunshine through rainy days, to make you happy and laugh, to make you realise life is nothing without them.

My phone buzzed in my hand. I looked at the screen; my heart skipped a beat. There was a message from him. I reread the message to see whether I’m dreaming or hallucinating. It said, ‘I’m here.’

I turned around to see whether I could find him. Was he hiding in the bushes a few blocks from here? Or was he standing behind that red car? Or was he the one waving at me from a distance?

Smiling to myself, I waved back and began walking towards him. I knew he’d come because he is my friend. And friends don’t break promises.

From a distance, his face reminded me of cherry blossoms that bloomed that season. His personality was cheerful like those pink flowers. Their colours; red to show his kindness, pink to show his humbleness, and white to show his pure personality.

These type of friends are found at every corner of your life. You just need to know where to find them. If you can’t, don’t worry they will show up. I promise you that. Even though they have flaws, remember, so do you! And if they are willing to accept that, then you know what it means.

I hope you enjoy this short story. Alex is signing out.

Copyright (©) of alexwritesandsings