Romantic Feelings.

I am preparing a collection of poems called “Romantic Feelings” which will be a Amazon Shorts These poems were written in LonelyPoet.Org. None came there to read it. Now If Amazon allows me to publish them then you will see them. Otherwise somewhere in the dark parts of my hard drive it will sit there for ever.

Now what happened to this site. Those who commented and got accepted as friends are the real friends. When I call someone a friend that friend should stand by me. Otherwise there is no point in calling someone a friend. I told all of you that I expect comments on my works be it negative or positive it doesn’t matter, I want to know what my readers thinks. I opened up LonelyPoet.Com for comments where it is much more easier to find and comment on poems. One don’t even need to be a member of that site. Some people came in there initiallly then they also disappeared. From footprints I can see people visiting my xanga site but not LonelyPoet.Com. Still if you comment in LonelyPoet.Com I will comment in your site.

There are changes, the collection of poems called “Yesterdays” which I originally planned to write 365 poems will be reduced to 100 poems. I have already posted 54 of those poems in here as well as LonelyPoet.Com. Another collection which I thought of writing called “Characters” the whole project was abandoned. I will post here as well as in LonelyPoet.Com other poems.

The Lonely Gardner.

The following poem is a test. Failing the test will have severe consequences. Read the poem very carefully, the lesson is
in the poem, there can’t be any questions, if you still have any ask me. You need to figure out what is the test by reading
 this poem. I am posting this poem earlier than the test. Starting 6:00PM Eastern Time in United States Of America on
November 13th 2006 my readers will have 24 hours to pass the test. Keep in mind asking me questions will not extend
the finishing time of the test. The test will end exactly at 6:00PM Eastern Time in United States Of America on
November 14th 2006.

 

Good Luck.

DSC00205

This is me stitting on the edge of a fountain in front of the Eddie Bauer store in Kansas City. This picture was taken by
my brother on October 23rd 2006.

The Lonely Gardner.

 

The strip of barren land I own,

Upon which weeds and wild plants grew,

With creepers through land crawling,

As upwards to climb nothing they found.

 

With spade and scissors a long time I spent,

Cutting and cleaning and the land I ploughed,

Sowed the seeds of flowers and many roots I planted,

All in order and in order they grew.

 

The violets and bluebells spread through the strip,

The tulips behind them in aristocracy stood,

The roses spread pleasantness in mind with smiles of their own,

And orchids blossomed showing kaleidoscopic patterns.

 

Days I spent in keeping the garden bright and clean,

As eyes of mine and my minds eyes in happiness stared,

And with satisfaction of my own expression,

With smiles in the middle of the garden I stood.

 

Even when the garden in bright colors stood,

Onlookers from far away looked and with murmurs went,

Their eyes I can’t see as far away they were,

But none said a word as none close to me came.

 

Then there are those, whom I thought close to me they were,

They in silence wandered around, did they looked or not, I know not,

Mystery my mind love, but sometime many mystery hurts,

And unknowing what the world thinks about my construction,

Tired I sat, watching my own smiles fading away.

 

Then conscience asked why not build a wall around,

So that none will see the beauty about which none speaks,

The beauty of the garden only myself will enjoy,

That which for the world I constructed,

For my own satisfaction forever will exist.

 

I will grow more flowers and green smooth grass,

Forever the sight in my mind will live,

In those sights the sound of soul I will hear,

The soul of mine alone will sing in the happiness of mine.

 

©RIAZAHAMMED.COM

“If you want to comment on my poems please visit and post your comments in LonelyPoet.Com all the poems that are
posted in this site will be there in LonelyPoet.Com“.

She Is So High

I was looking for this song on the web “She is so high” andfound this video on You Tube with the beautiful
Kathryn Morris of Cold Case. Wonderful video of this beautiful woman, loveit.

Sarah Maria

Democrats won the election. The Republicans lostthe election. People have spoken for change. Hehehe slogans are flying all overthe place. I say… “Whatever”  Last nightwas fun. The tight race, it is like seeing a tied football game from 2 minutewarning. After all these just a while I ago I saw this touching picture of alittle child wiping her tears, she don’t know the rhetoric, she probably don’t knowthe politics. In her innocence she only know her dad lost the election.. All slogans and partisanshipjust vaporized away when I saw this picture. My heart goes to Sarah Maria. Don’tbe sad little girl, there will be another day when your dad will make you smile.



Photo Courtesy MSNBC/Getty Images.

The Shadow Figure.

Election, Election, Election… damn you all politicians and political talkers. HBO 24/7 that’s my channel. Well… I fell asleep during a busy day at work. Hell ya… tired to thinking too deep into programs. Hehehe… I am cool now. WuLong Tea… anyone heard about it. It is good. 

  After reading the above said paragraph one can figure out what I am going through. This moment I am looking at a election report, then a movie report, the next moment I am reading poem in some Xanga site, next I will be fixing a problem reported at work. See I am doing too many things at the same time. The ever consistent life is falling like the leaves of the trees around. But I am here to stay for another winter and then I will blossom into another weird spring and summer. Said all that… if someone ask me how many more winters you want to watch I’d say… a trillion more even if I am alone in this planet.

  This poem, I wrote it at work a deliberate effort to change the crazy things I was doing all morning. Ever stood in the middle of a country market. I have done that a lot. Even though I seldom bought anything. It is interesting how people behave there. I started the poem with that thought and got the rest of it while scribbling it.

 Enjoy the evening.

tree-winter-xxx

The Shadow Figure.

 

Picture yourself in the middle of the crowd,

Market place where sellers with their produce shout,

Passionate buyers scrambling for the best,

Worth it or not, some ask, many don’t.

 

The world revolves around you as you wish,

As none cared to look at you unless,

You have a handful to sell,

To their liking, not to anyone’s benefit.

 

For those who have nothing to sell,

And nothing to buy and nothing to buy with,

Oh’ they are pebbles in the screaming stream,

Dragged on and polished in ways they don’t want.

 

The crowd around at empty handed they look,

With perceptions in mind that they are out there to loot,

Oh’ in the middle of the crowd nothing they seek,

May be another soul who doesn’t have anything to sell or buy.

 

From the wilderness of the market he tried to walk,

Far, far away where a bit of peace of mind he seek,

But in this prison of air, dust water and noise,

No place have he found, where there are no sellers or buyers.

 

No soul he found who looked at his eyes without a scary thought,

And through the crowd with a hood covering his head he walked,

No word to say, no destinations known, his walks, never ending continued,

Not knowing a shadow figure wrote these lines about him.

 

©RIAZAHAMMED.COM
“If you want to comment on my poems please visit and post your comments in LonelyPoet.Com all the poems that are posted in this site will be there in LonelyPoet.Com“. It is not necessary for you to register in LonelyPoet.Com to leave a comment there.

Mo Cuishle,
      Don’t feel sorry about anything. I never
felt like you thrown me into dark or anything like that. My complaints
were you did not comment on my poems.  hehehe… ‘as always’ I
know you read my works. Like it or not… mmm… it is a mystery. Well
most of the time I like mystery. When it comes to like it or leave it,
I will say, love it.
 Still no word from both of my missing friends. mmm.

  You have a wonderful week.

Riaz Ahammed.

One Soul

Weekend Update…

Nothing much going on in this bright, windy and cold weekend. I am still not well, but better. I have no hopes or wishes anymore. Like John Mellencamp sung, “Life Goes On, Long After The Thrill Of Living Is Gone”.  I just thought I will leave one of my latest pictures in here.

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This picture was taken during the Eid prayer ceremony that ended the month of Ramadhan on October 23rd in Kansas. I am waiting for the prayers to start. 

Have you ever heard anyone asking to be banned from a forum? I did, from the Academy Of American Poets discussion forum. Their workshops are a sham to poetry. When I asked to be removed from their website. You can imagine what went on for some days. They are sadists, who sit their to kill young poets poetic innovations. These old school waste don’t understand the modern day mindset. If anyone ever says they are in anyway associated with the Academy Of Poets. I will never look at their face again. As for me, I don’t care a shit about who says what, about my poetry. I know what is poetry better than anyone and if anyone want to read my poetry, read it and be enchanted, otherwise join the academy and get lost.

  Here is a poem I wrote originally to be given to a girl. She is gone, gone, gone. She was a wonderful friend. I hope and pray good things will come to her and her life wherever she is will be for the better. This indeed is the greatest loss of my life. A great friend. I will write more about Alexandra, as of now, I am just too sad to write anymore.

One Soul.

 

Bright light in my heart filled,

When pleasant thoughts in meditations found,

And with a cheerful smile,

To you I come.

 

The glory of mind in my search filled,

The glow of life in my senses filled,

And with that glow in my soul,

To you I come.

 

The veil of the morning lifted,

When your face I saw,

And the brightness I gathered,

In every meaning fulfilled,

When to you I come.

 

The noon time sun bowed,

When in your thoughts at sky I looked,

And the glory of you in every sense filled,

When to you I come.

 

New meanings of gladness I found,

When upon your eyes I looked,

That precious soul to mine every time spoke,

When to you I come.

 

Gladness in every way you define,

But to my eyes you look,

And seek the completeness of your joy,

When to you I come.

 

In the glory of love to each other dissolve,

The material passions in each other we kept,

But forever exists only one soul,

As our souls merged as one in romance and love.

 

©RIAZAHAMMED.COM
“If you want to comment on my poems please visit and post your comments in LonelyPoet.Com all the poems that are posted in this site will be there in LonelyPoet.Com“. It is not necessary for you to register in LonelyPoet.Com to leave a comment there.

Enjoy The Weekend

Mo Cuishle, 

People disappearing, it is bizarre, my friend Shaun, gone, no idea he is dead or alive. To confuse things more, his girlfriend and mother of his two children called in tears to know his whereabouts. The way he left was also really weird. He moved in from L.A and  brought his girlfriend and kids to settle down here. Rented an apartment brought all furniture and everything else needed. After two weeks he invited me for dinner and during dinner he told. She and kids are going back and all the things in the apartment is yours. That stunned me. He sent his girlfriend and kids by Greyhound from Albany to L.A. I took a storage place and we both took a truck and moved all the stuff into that storage. Two T.Vs, Two DVD players, one a DVD recorder, a brand new bed that cost him nearly $2000.00 then all the kitchen items. One dressing table. He then moved in with me in my hotel for couple of days. One day when I was not there he called me and said he left and wanted me to leave his wallet which he forgot to take at the front desk. That really confused me because whoever wanted to pick up that wallet don’t want me to see them.

 Second one, Alexandra or Sasha. A good friend of mine for more than a year and a half. I told her I will meet her after Ramadhan, every one who knows us was expecting us to meet on 25th October. She never showed up. No one knows where she is. None can say she is dead or alive either.

 The rest is more crazy. My cousin, who followed me in every footstep from a very younger age. I talked to him last week. He cursed me for being alone.

  My book flopped much worst than I ever imagined. Then my health, got a respiratory infection that confused even the best doctors here. The antibiotics I am taking costs about $85.00 a tablet. I need to take it three times. Money is not the problem as insurance takes care of it. Those medicines tires me down.

  So all of it making my whole life the worst infection around. Sorry Mo Cuishle I couldn’t give any good news, still I wish you a very wonderful weekend.

 

With every reason I can I find I thought…. I figured out… I amfreaking depressed. But I will not go down with this, I will only goahead with this.

Remembering A Soul I never loved.

Alexandra, I am not going to say who is she or where did I met her. All I will say is I met her first in March 2005. A wonderful model that’s what I said at that time. I started a practice at that time of looking into the eyes of someone and write what I feel. Except on Alexandra I have written poems on everything else. The silly stubborn girl of early 20s amused me every time I saw her. Then I stopped that practice and joined Xanga. Rest is history most of my subscribers know already. But recently when I started working on the second collection of my poems called “Yesterdays” I started a practice I left more than a year back. The one face that came to my mind was that of Alexandra. I went back where I found her. She was still there a year older. Like the click of a hand she remembered me. I wrote and wrote a lot. Ten of those poems are collected and named as “Romantic Feelings” I will try to get that published. If there is a will there is a way… I will let you know when it is fully ready. Now what is the relevance of all this. Read the following poem. In all there will be eleven poems in that collection. This is the last one.

   I am still sick, it started like an allergy. Couple of days back I saw the doctor and he told, the entire upper respiratory system is infected by some virus. I got that from the office. So I decided I am going to give it to everyone else in the office. I am in the office working now. Let all these idiots get it and sneeze. I can already hear couple of sneezes. Selfishness at its heights isn’t it. Haha. That’s me… tit-for-tat I will return the brutality done to me. I am allergic to penicillin. So the other Antibiotics are too harsh to me. Makes me hungry like a wolf……..mmmm that’s a line from the poem. I am losing my mind too now haha.

 

Remembering A Soul I never loved.

 

Remember I, those eyes like stars in sky sparkling,

Filled in them, passion for life merged with enchantment.

Remember I, those smiles, like a bright summer morn,

With the brightness of a soul, in blessings filled.

 

Those words like prayers chanted,

And weaved in tune and sung,

Memories dance in tunes holding,

Her hands from imaginations sprout.

 

Darkness its meaning in every way shown,

As she faded away like winter evening, fast,

Even memories in confusion laid tired,

Oh’ all gone as only a dark silhouette remain,

 

Undone from life, Ah’ the pain of parting,

Howling like a hungry wolf,

Conscience scavenged the body for comfort,

Oh’ parted those comforts too for destinies unknown.

 

Still a craving somewhere in the brain remains,

For a sight of those smiles and eyes wonderful,

For the echo of her sound deep in my soul,

And to feel the reflection of the glow of her skin.

 

There is a silhouette I still see,

But it is nothing but reflection of my crystal tears,

In happiness of her welfare, or in sadness of her parting,

The perplexed mind still can’t decide.

 

Did I loved that soul or not, I still can’t say,

Maybe loved her a little more, I should have,

Someday every definition in union may say,

Our brief encounter existed far above,

Every romantic definition humanity ever known.

 

©RIAZAHAMMED.COM
“If you want to comment on my poems please visit and post your comments in LonelyPoet.Com all the poems that are posted in this site will be there in LonelyPoet.Com“. It is not necessary for you to register in LonelyPoet.Com to leave a comment there.