Flying A Torn Kite

My picture may scare many people, some people may feel bad, some may feel sad, some will feel glad to see the pathetic look of me. To all, it took 5 days of not shaving, 2 days of no showers and about 18 hours straight without sleep to get that look to take one picture. I got the exact look I wanted as for this poem I needed to see someone I myself cannot take a second look at. So I chose myself as the model to write a feeling I got in my mind which I slowly blown up like a goldsmith blows slowly steadily and precisely to get the best out. 

So here is the poem that came out with all these wild effort. Hope you all like it.

Have a good day.
Lone.

Flying A Torn Kite.

The broken dream down from mind fell,
And into the reality laid with your face,
Brutality of my misconceptions,
Or the fancy of your thoughtless world,
All I felt was a torn kite high and high flown. 

The unwinding time shown the gone by days,
When, thinking modest she smiled bright,
Looking with love I only saw her smile,
Gladness filled her eyes and glowed,
Ah’ in her, prettiness found new synonyms.

Stitching together the synonyms a dream I made,
And through the language of the heart to her I spoke,
But that language from her heart she erased I forgot,
And the world around her a calamity to love became,
But the dream like a kite high and high flown.

Misconceptions in stubborn stupidity drove,
Mind to intoxication with assumptions,
Ah’ my own love as my worst enemy evolved,
And made life a forgetful plea for forgiveness,
Though for another five lifetimes I deserve not. 

Every day passed shot a hole in the kite,
And without line high and high flown,
And to unknown depths my own soul drowned,
No mercy I seek, and no mercy I deserve,
As life joined the torn kite high and high flown. 

© RIAZAHAMMED.COM. All Rights Reserved-2013,

A Young Kiss.

A Young Kiss.

A lovely girl once told me she loves the sea. I looked at her in an odd way and walked away. She came after me and asked what happened. I gave her another odd look and almost whispered to her “Never love the sea”. Now she raised both her eyebrows and asked “Why would you say that?”
I told
“Never love the sea honey,
For its depths is not known to you
And in depths hide darkness
And deep inside darkness rest
The ugly old man, sadness”

She got angry like some who got serious hemorrhoids pain and said, “You are crazy” By this time a younger girl standing beside said “Not at all, silly” we both looked at the young girl. She shrugged and said “It is a metaphor”

I stepped towards and asked, “You got a boyfriend?” She leaned back a bit at my advancement and said “No” by this time the girl who was with me said “Oooh this is so creepy” I asked her back..”What is so creepy me talking to this young girl?” I answered my own question “Not if she is old enough” I asked the girl “How old are you?” She said 19. I smiled and said “perfect”. The girl with me by that time got all jealous and said “Ya go fuck her and get fucked I don’t care, just tell me you metaphor”

I said
“The darkest point of life is sadness
For there exists nothing more painful
And the deepest point of a mind is filled
With purest form of love
And that love none ever gets or expresses
So in darkness forever it remains
And mind is like a vast sea
With depths unknown”

By this time I felt the lips of the young girl upon my lips and watched the girl with me with a perplexed face walking backwards.

The English Surgeon

Ukraine, many people take a step or two back when they hear the name of that country. I have met many people from Ukraine. Not all are really good people. Some of them are compulsive liars like many of the people I have met in India, Europe and in USA. I have heard about that country a lot. Very deplorable economic conditions, sex trafficking, prostitution and the number one place for online strippers or sex site models. Honestly I’ve had a bad impression about this place. Even yesterday I thought about this country as a bad place and I slept. I have a habit of keeping a small T.V on when I sleep. Its just that I hate to sleep in silence and when I wake up in the middle of the night I have to hear something. So today morning when I woke up I am hearing Russian from the T.V as Global Voices of PBS was going on T.V. It was a documentary called “The English Surgeon” I sat on my bed and watched it. Let me tell you all, it shown the country side of Ukraine and erased every bad feeling I have in my mind about that place and how little those people have anything. Still the hopes and dreams of patients with Brain Tumors was well shown in this documentary. The great hearted surgeon and a place with no modern medical equipments and a lot of patients with hope. The success and failures of this surgeon is well shown in this documentary and makes it a must see. This changed my mind a lot about many, many things… Yeah, like the surgeon says towards the end of the documentary, “What are we if don’t try to help others, we’re nothing”   

Looks

Earlier today I was trying to talk to this girl online. She was asking me where I am from, what I do, how am I doing, you know the usual drill by any girl grilling any man trying to talk to her. My intention of trying to talk to this girl was just to spend sometime and I was trying to tell her that. Then she asked.”How do you look?” There was this other guy in the room and he was getting jealous of her attention to someone she had never seen.

I asked her, “Why you want to know how I look if I am not intending any romance with you honey?” she said, “I am curious to know, just want to put a face to the name”

I told her “There are good looking people, then there are ugly people, then there are people like me” As I was about to leave the chatroom I saw the other guy typed in “That was the best thing I’ve read in recent times”

A Walk With Time.

Good Afternoon everyone,
It did not snow 8 inches one night it snowed 8 inches in 4 days and I have all of it to be moved from my front walk in way. I had one wild weekend as I totally underestimated the amount of heating oil in my oil tank because of a faulty cork inside the tank. The heater stopped when I came back home Saturday night and it was about 9F outside with windchill making it feel like -1F. I know my stone built house will hold heat for sometime but that kinda cold, even the strongest stone will tremble. I took a room heater and moved to one corner of my house, my bed room and sat there and looked through the present reality. Then I edited this poem I wrote a bit and slept.
SuperBowl sunday was good. Unlike I thought not a lot of people at the Bay Shore Mall. I liked the game and really enjoyed the food at Bar Louis.

Now about this poem, this is long even after a good bit of editing and it is not the length but what I am saying in it really matters. The second part of this series of poems. The model I used.. Julia. All I can say is READ.

 Here is the first part of the poem ‘Fires Of Fear’

A Walk With Time.

Time through my life in haste passed,
As life through good and bad events tumbled,
Ah’ the fear of her that burned away her love for me,
Like a dark cloud during a warm summer storm grew,

Ah’ that dark cloud not in her mind grew,
But it was in my mind the storm brew,
My own fearsome monster I became,
And away from mirrors of life I walked. 

On a windy wild dusk I walked
Through the wet brown sidewalk
The white haired clouds camouflaged
As red giant balls, in the golden rays of the Sun just set 

The wind all around town rolled
Upon every corner of life spying
Then upon my face her naughty cold hands touched
As eyes blinked and blinked when faces backwards moved

Then with the backdrop of the masterpiece nature painted
I saw her blond hair camouflaging the clouds
Ah’ those blues eyes like sapphires shined
As from across the street her giggles I heard

As even the wind left to kiss her cheeks
Through the wonderful paths continued my walk
The howls of town in empty streets distanced
As the warmth of reality from all around me cloaked 

Then my conscience to time asked,
“Aren’t you bored by the torture you carry
And deliver to all the souls unloved
Give away a second of true love
Give away a second of hope
Or forever in the darkness live
Or forever as lost time you will be labeled
The curse of unloved passions upon you will come”

Ah’ the untiring worker cannot stop
As space at a pace faster than he can hold moved
Still he stopped and to my conscience told
“Walk through me and to my vibrations listen”
I looked up and down and felt
Time consuming every bit of me at a steady pace
Right beside under the weeping willow I sat
And into the depths of the darkening lake I looked
The vibrations of time in the depth of my soul I felt
As into the depths of my conscience time spoke.

“Gather not the memories of a time lost,
For in them the light of a loving soul resides,
Let the flames of your lost love die in frost,
May the light of morrows be your guide. 

Fear not the times of love to come,
The phantoms of love blood thirsty may wander,
Ah’ let your love like a stream flow.
Into the depths of time carrying the one you love.

Curse not the souls unloved left,
For in their passions through time they moved,
Miserable misunderstandings are no true lover’s treasure,
Oh’ may your soul be eternally loved” 

Even when silence in my whole being crept
Looking at the blinking stars beside the lake I sat
No thoughts, no feelings, Ah’ numb my mind became
Then like a lightning I got up and back to town I walked

All through my walk nothing I thought
It was a brisk walk none in the dark noticed
Ah’ back where I saw Mother Nature’s masterpiece I stopped
Nothing, none are all the words to my mind came 

Looking down at the spot I saw the smiling blond I stood
Then from behind a giggling voice asked
“Lost something?”
Looking back I saw the smiling lovely blond. 

My negative reply upon her face painted
A bit of disappointment, then to her I asked
“What keeps your here at this hour my lady?”
With a smile her index finger at me she pointed.

(……To Be Continued…)

 

Here I am watching the SuperBowl Game the intensity grew as San Francisco made a come back but the team I was supporting eventually won.

 

This is where I watched the game.

 

©RIAZAHAMMED.COM. All Rights Reserved. 2013

Fires Of Fear

Hello everyone!
I made an announcement sometime back saying I am writing a long, long poem. This poem required me to use three different models. As in the coming weeks you will see why I chose three different models instead of using just one model. I am in the process of finishing these poems but I thought the first part is ready for you all.
As for other works, some projects I abandoned some new stuff I started. Well those who know me, know well, that I have the habit of throwing away a lot of materials I write. The latest poem I am working is a dark one, first I named it as “Dark Side Of A Pretty Face” then after chatting with the model who happens be a practicer of BDSM (Bondage, Dominating, Sadistic, Masochist)she is a bisexual woman, who enjoys someone totally binding her down to have rough sex. But she told me she don’t like violence and she was previously admitted in a mental clinic. Anyone would first walk away from such a confusion. I talked to her further to know the underlying reasons for her love for such behavior. When I heard her story I understood this is no ordinary woman, she is an incredible character and there is a wonderful innocent girl in her she herself don’t want to hurt. Then I asked her “Can I write about you?” she said “It will be an honor” I told her the way I want to name the poem she said “It is a bit bold” I thought about the ideas for couple of days and decided to name the poem “Shadows Of A Pretty Face”. I hope to release that poem by mid next week. As for now here is the first installment of the poem in which I used my favorite model… 

Enjoy the SuperBowl day folks.

Fires Of Fear.

 

Twisted and turning paths ahead laid,
Ah’ the Sun dutifully appeared and disappeared,
Night swallowed all the warmth and froze,
Bitter and pleasant feeling in mind to dreamless sleep.

The weeping willow by the cunning wind swayed,
Darkness took the sweat of nature and as frost drew,
Like crayon drawing all around biting life away,
Ah’ no more bitterness winter can bring.

Mind like a stallion in madness galloped,
As the fallen love no where to be found,
As a king without a kingdom soul evolved,
Oh’ only memories spoke sensible words.

Triumph of the mind over the tragedy life became,
When love in her for me became a wish-less nightmare,
Gathered upon the sepulcher of my happiness,
Dreams with weeping face-masks permanently crying,
And by dust of verses of love written in all sincerity.

Tall and slender shy but shameless,
Fear the smokeless fire became,
As the shinning light of love shown.
Your face like valley with spring blooms filled,
But fires of your fear burned away your love for me.

…….. (To Be Continued)

©RIAZHAMMMED.COM. All Rights Reserved-2012.

There are religious psychopaths who believe there is a battle going on and the world will end soon. There is a battle between dark and light. You know what.. these folks have no idea what dark and what light is.

Light for the believer will not reach his/her mind,

Through eyes mankind blessed with,

Oh’ no matter how wide one keeps eyes open,

Darkness will echo through the mind,

 

From An Imaginary PoetryBox

Here is a recent visit by someone I know to my blog…

Location: Chicago, Illinois, United States
Browser: Chrome 24.0
Operating System : MacOSX
Resolution: 1440×900
ISP: AT&T U-Verse
Navigation Path
Date and Time 29th January 23:32:20 from https://www.facebook.com to poetrybox.xanga.com/771117801/adventure/
Date and Time 29th January 23:33:03 from https://www.facebook.com to poetrybox.xanga.com/771172498/in-dubai/

I track every visitor to my blog as I have every right to do that to protect my interests. I remember once telling this person that leaving location wide open can pose dangers and the response was a lot of anger. I hate to reveal this information but I am doing this to let her know I mean no harm with all this and it will sadden me more that anything I may say may bother her or stress her. I apologized to her in the post Adventure for it maybe it is a good thing she visited and saw it and maybe in ‘Kindness’ accepted the apologies. It gave me a surpise that she visited my blog I never thought she ever will.It made me write the following. I thought I will leave it in an imaginary PoetryBox forever but now I thought she should know.

I raised from the east, looked all around east and west
I flew, I drove, I walked and I ran
All the time looking for an alternate face by God created instead of you
All my senses could figure out is
God laughing at my stupidity for my search
As you are the only one my heart is destined to love
The only one I can ever love

I wrote the truth with no expectations of anything. Its just that I can only be me.

Lone.