Age Of Survival.

Hello All,

    I think most ofyou my readers already know that my poems are getting published in a book. Thefinal draft of the book was submitted earlier today. In all 192 poems in threedifferent chapters are there in the book. Even the latest poem made it. Iwanted to submit the draft before I take a break. I am going to be in Milwaukee, WI,starting tomorrow. I will be there through July 5th. Most of theafternoons and evenings I will be at the summerfest. Late evenings and nights Iwill be out partying with my friends. So woohoooo I am out for a long weekend.

   Those who want tosay anything about my latest poems better say it now in LonelyPoet.Com as allpoems will be moved out of the website by July 8th as they are allgoing to be part of a book now. Pray for me my family and friends.

You all have a wonderful long weekend ahead.
LonelyPoet.

Turning Off A Light

The context for this poem is real. Even though I first saidthere are no hard feelings for me. It is not easy but I am sure time will healme. This looks like the “Turning Off The Light” forever. Never will Iattempt anything like this again. There is none to blame in this. It is just Iam so unfortunate in the matter of love that’s all.

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Turning Off A Light.

With hands upon his heart he prayed,
For the love of her, whom he loved,
Then with faith, he loved her more,
As, seen a candle light far,
Even in the flickering light he saw,
Far sight of the days to come,
Wondered about the magnificence,
Of a future filled with understanding,
And the love of that understanding,
Of each other in the celebration of life.

Oh’ in penance towards love he walked,
As the light from the candle was bright enough,
Though stale everything remained,
Some faith undefined always told,
To gather every bit of himself in perfection,
And piece together the jigsaw puzzle in front.

Illusion in the dim light guided,
The puzzle piece by piece together he finished,
To see the face the candle he raised,
But those eyes no longer at his eyes looked,
As far back to her own past she fell.

Waiting is one thing he hate,
Hating is one thing, to him unknown,
Oh’ he ended up waiting and waiting,
But hours later she is gone he known.

Oh’ alone with the flickering candle he stood,
Perplexed at uncaring gestures,
Then the candle and its light he turned off,
Plunging himself into scary silence,
And nightmarish darkness even in the soul filled,
He waited for a moment and walked,
Unknowing what direction is his move,
Knowing well, directions don’t matter,
When everything is with darkness filled.

©RIAZAHAMMED.COM

These Days

Thanks again for the wonderful well wishes. Today when I woke up I was
more than half relieved. I am not usually like that I will be down for
long periods of time. From her behavior I was kinda getting the message
clearly she is not what I expected at first. Well… like I said in a
poem and its intro called “Jigsaw Puzzle” she is still a mystery for
me. As for me, I just don’t want to bring in a puzzle into an already
complicated puzzle. You know what I mean. Okay… just thought I’d say
this. That’s all. I am at work that’s why this post comes so much
delayed after you commented. I forgot to turn off my PDA so in the
middle of the meeting it said “DOH…the mail is here” not a problem. We
are stuck here with no specific project plans at hand. In a nutshell
for the last three week me and my team members comes everyday morning
have a meeting in which we speak about baseball, basketball, soccer
world cup yada, yada, yada, rest of the day we just roam around the
office. There is nothing to do. So I will write a bit more as this will
keep me typing something.
  Last week I started my summer
evening walks, as this is a new place I walked through the road near by
and in about two minutes I reached a residential area. As I was
walking, to avoid any oncoming cars I stepped into the grass by the
road. I didn’t noticed there was a big pitbull lying in the plot near
by which the dog was guarding. The dog started chasing me. The dog only
chased me, it did not try to get close to bite or anything like that.
So the evening walk ended up with a sprint back to the hotel. Now for
the last three days my whole body is sore.
 As for the book… I
started reviewing the final draft, which the publishers sent me last
week. I will be submitting the final draft for text production before I
leave for Milwaukee for the long weekend. Then they will send me the
production copy for a 15 day review again to see if there is any typos
or other formatting errors. That also means I cannot add any more poems
after I send the final draft this week. In all after adding the latest
poem “The Canoe” there are 191 poems.
 So what’s up with you?
I thought you may post something but still what I see is “Grandma,
login” hehehe no offense, okay… post something when you get time. Both
my brothers loved the comment you wrote for my poem “Metaphors” and of
course it was a great relief after a long, long day yesterday. I love
it.

You Came So Close

You came so close in figuring out the riddle. Yes I am stopping to see
someone I called the light. It is over with Jennifer. That’s what I was
talking about. Yes I do trust you. Well… my friends have become so
much ridiculous I know the result will be they will virtually kill me
when I visit Milwaukee Next weekend. You are the only one I could tell
anything about. I am so sorry if I confused you.
Have a great week ahead and thanks a lot for the good luck wishes… I needed a lot of those to get my mind steady.

Turning Off A Light

You know how hard it is when one is not able to talk to anyone about
something. Even to you I don’t think I can really tell. Well… this is
not a game, but sure is a riddle.
 ” I have to turn off a light”
I hope you’d understand. Wish me good luck for my peace of mind.

The Canoe

My brother was given this picture and asked to write a poemabout what he thinks about the picture. He wrote… he writes in my mother tongueand shown me that poem. He asked me to write a poem in English about what Ifelt. I am using my usual style and flow to say what I feel about the picture.

boat

The Canoe

The gruesome summer day flared,
When all those who hated the cold,
In the burn of the sun fried.
Every corner of the horizon filled,
With dark clouds as through the sea shore I walked,
Along the walk I saw a canoe fishermen left,
With the rising dark clouds behind, all alone,
A sense of helplessness lingered,
In my mind for reasons unknown.
Lonely walks through which mind always grab,
Old memories, those sights and sounds I left,
Far away in the land of mysterious warmth.

Oh’ long passed images flirted through mind,
And among those, one stood out,
Ashore, empty, left out she sat,
After long hours rowed and people she carried,
Some with fear, some fun filled,
Some never woke up from dreams,
Many weaved dreams when carried,
Oh’ the tired canoe upon the shore she sat,
With thousands of foots stepped upon,
All carried to safety, now none remembered.
The paddles once like the arms of a swimmer fell,
The arms that once held the canoe straight,
All darkened, as no arm touched them anymore,
As the new bridge took all away,
And the canoe was left out with none to touch,
Except mosses and algae and reptiles hiding,
As the blazing sun upon her fired,
Arrows of fire like a monster merciless.

The sun broke through dark clouds before his nightly plunge
My eyes I opened as the fires of the evening sun shown,
No mercy upon my face either,
I looked at the canoe once more and then back I laid,
Upon the soft sand on the beach with my eyes closed,
Knowing well that upon the canoe memories shown,
I once sat on a humid summer evening and weaved,
Looking at a pair of pretty eyes, a dream unfulfilled.

©RIAZAHAMMED.COM

The Pearl

 A poem written after reading one of my own old poem. Thatpoem is called “Ocean Of Love”. I always saythis phrase “I will keep the love for you like the shell keeps the pearl” that’swhat I used as a context to say about my love and the love of the one I love.

Have a great weekend all.

shellCN1255

The Pearl.

Rain upon the vast ocean lashed,
Not a storm still the ocean in ecstasy roared,
The salty waves rolled its muscle over the shore,
And left dead weeds and algae from deep under.
Along came the bubbles in millions at a time,
All blown up by the drops falling hard from above.

Crabs running around with their mouth wide open,
Grabbing a drop or two of fresh water.
Broken Corals lying around helpless,
Unwanted even by the land upon which they landed.
Shells of fish eaten shellfish lie empty,
Oh’ those empty shells, life cut short for a meal.

Standing by the shore, I can only imagine,
The life of the shellfish deep under,
Years to mature then some may get dirt to irritate,
And that imperfection with a secretion covered,
Layer after layer the rest of the life,
The cover up of that imperfection make,
The purest of the pure from the ocean found,
Which as the ocean’s pearl we adore.

The streets with cars filled,
Through the city like veins in a body pass,
The milestones stood to show,
The distances passed,
The landmarks stood with memories,
Of the millions of eyes passed.

Oh’ how many faces through my eyesight passed?
Many turned their faces away distrust,
Many stared with suspicion,
So many hide behind the veil of lipstick and rouge,
There are those who cared nothing for their faces,
As none stared at their faces but,
At their half naked bodies with lust stared.

Oh’ how many of them made the imperfections of mine?
I don’t know, as life only spoke in similes and metaphors,
But when I stare at these waves unfolding,
Spreading through the soft sand shore,
Caressing my feet and shy away,
All those faces like the bubbles blown away,
As upon this imperfection layer after layer love laid,
And made the love of mine as the pearl of your heart,
Oh’ all impurities of my mind and actions washed away,
As the purest of the pure, my love for you became,
And forever in the heart of yours I’ll remain,
As the purest, priceless pearl of the vast of ocean of our life.

©RIAZAHAMMED.COM

Metaphors

This is a poem I wrote when I was thinking about a girl whomI like these days. When she went on vacation I first felt it is good for herfrom her hard work. Now I miss the light around me. She indeed is the light Iwish to preserve with utmost care, perfecting every bit of me for that care.

missyredboots061

Metaphors.

A hundred praise of verse I may write,
About the beauty you are from inside,
And the beauty outside, though it is perishable.
Every poet may see his masterpiece in your eyes,
Even the layman’s mind will rhyme with your mind.

Oh’ when gathering thoughts I thrived,
In an undefined faith, unimaginable,
But all thoughts I gained about you,
Upon my mind painted visions, clairvoyant.

All my words, verses and echoes of my soul loving,
Seems went unheard or uncared.
Life in repetition buries joy unfulfilled,
Oh’ how many times I said,
That unconditional is my love for love.

There are challenges and doubts from you and I to us,
But will all the material advantages and disadvantages matter?
In the mind of the loving you, when with love you look,
At me and know me in material and spirit.
I asked to my own conscience when a loving feeling I feel.

The trees, birds, wind, sun, moon, stars,
Sounds, smell and every touch I write,
They all inspired me to be myself,
And express what senses in perfection feels,
Oh’ they are all metaphors of the depth of my love.

Though loneliness is a chosen path I took,
A while back as a loving heart that loves mine,
Became a myth and a mirage out of shape,
Every time your voice I hear,
Every time your face I see,
The mirage takes the shape of my love with your face,
The myth with all the fables becomes our biography,
Where every word chosen weaves,
A well written narrative of love and life fulfilled.

©RIAZAHAMMED.COM

With Great Power Comes Great Responsiblity

Mo Cuishle,
 I have sent you an email from LonelyPoet.Com, I don’t know if you
get the mail or not as hotmail sometime block the mail. So here is what
I wrote.

“Thanks for registering in my site. You are the 25th
member and it is an honor for me to have you as a member of
LonelyPoet.Com. Well… I am giving you a special previlage in my site.
You are an admin now. That means you have access to everything in
LonelyPoet.Com that inculdes creating new forums, topics and even
editing the whole software that runs this site. You should be careful
though. “With great power come great responsiblity.” haha If you have
any questions please feel free to PM me or email me from this site.
Don’t worry… I still have access to the database which is outside of
this Invision Power Board software. I can fix it through that.
Do whatever you want, make sure you enjoy it to the fullest.”

Riaz Ahammed.

Thanks again for registering in LonelyPoet.Com

Unfortunate Remarks

Mo Cuishle,
       I hope by this time you’ve read
what I wrote in your myspace. Well… it was unfortunate that you
believe all the things I did were based upon pre-conditions that you
should comment in return. That was sadly wrong, I am not accusing you
of any wrong doing. May be my insistance gave you and impression that
way.  That’s why I am writing this too to apologize to you if my
insistance on getting a comment from you. I am really sorry.
  Even when I had the feeling for you from which after the chat I
got out, I only requested comments to assist my efforts to get the
inappropriate out of me. If that’s was what you were mentioning by
“Games” then understand this Mo Cuishle, I am over that a long time
back. I have moved on, I am trying my best to get another relationship
work. I think I already told you about Jennifer.
  I blocked you out of xanga because you said in a post that you
were so bored and have  nothing to do… then I thought… even
when she is bored to the core of her nerves she don’t visit my
LonelyPoet.Com site and write anything. I felt sad as that came from
someone whom I thought as a good poet and wonderful person. I further
thought that may be if I block you from xanga you may visit my
LonelyPoet.Com site. That’s why I blocked you.  Now whenever you
read this message understand this… there are no conditions attached
to anything  I do… I did all the so called “Kind things” because
I believe you deserve it. Even now I can and will do a lot of things
but I just don’t know what. Nothing I do is a pre-condtion for
anything.
  Let me make it clear once more… I had a romantic feeling for
you because of an emotional issue that came out when I tried to make
your face as the face of  “Tess Of The D’Urbervilles” I knew what
to do about it and I wrote out the inappropriate feeling out of my
mind. I am not trying to play any games with you at all. My requests
for comments were all sincere and only meant for comments to my poems
without any vested interest. All the new poems I write is with Jennifer
in my mind. I hope you understand me Sam. I will always be there for
you, as a friend as a brother or whatever else “You” define.
 Once again my sincere apologies for the confusion I created.

Riaz Ahammed.