Blog Poem

Oh’ my trembling hands can’t write,
Anymore about life,
And at a pause life remains,
In a moment of feeling, perplexed.

My pen for the memories I leave,
O I have none at all worthwhile,
All wonderful magic of life’s mirages.

Life is just like the weather,
Confused between winter and spring,
As the calendar says,
Or is it really the other way around?
Just darkness inside my mind fills,
When brightness and warmth fills outside.
And leaves unloved heart like a black hole,
Where every other feeling dissolves and disappear,
Into a feeling once I wished with me you shared.
 
When life takes a retrograde,
Oh’ thoughts too through a prism of negative perceives,
Though meant to you, those thoughts in soliloquy spoke,
“Glad you must be for not sharing,
The misfortunes of an unfortunate lover,
Never drain that brain in thoughts of this lover,
Oh after all love indeed is just another emotion.”
 
Such where the thoughts of a lost lover,
So much was the passion kept inside for her,
Oh’ everywhere when turned to move ahead,
“Dead End” written literally and most of the time virtually,
Only one way the way that passed.
 
The a thought came to mind,
Should I walk backwards through every steps I made,
Or turn around and through the same paths walk,
But in a new way away from those footsteps,
Never properly made, mostly fell by my own stupidity?
Then conscience protested “Loving her is no stupidity,
She is worth loving in any era and lucky you are,
For the brief time she spent reading you”.
 
 
Okay Xanga folks I thought I will post a poem before the end of the day. But unfortunately my email still looks at me with an empty inbox. And I don’t want to post a work not copyrighted here. What I said above hehehe it is not a poem just a blog post written like a poem. Yeah I loved a girl whom I should have never loved. Well there is always a price to pay. And I am paying.
   I have to work this weekend. If later today I get the email confirmation I will post the poem here tomorrow. Have a great weekend everyone, stay cool it is going to be a wild, hot, sweaty weekend. Keep in mind I love you all. Pray for me. 
 
Before I end this post. I have to say this.. Michael Jackson died. The world may say a hundred different opinion about him. But look back at his career from nearly a toddler to the moment he died. This man had taken the music, dance and entertainment to almost every corner of the globe a human possibly can. Maybe he abused the fame and fortune in many ways humanity never agree. But how many got that opportunity to reach the heights where he reached. I remember when I was in India once me and my friends went to a remote place in the state of Tamil Nadu called Chinnakadu. This place don’t even have electricity in every house and at that time had a restaurant we got there and went to have a cup of tea. And saw a poster of Michael Jackson there … I wondered at that time and was looking at the poster the owner of the shop asked me “You like Michael?” I told mmm not really, but he is good. Yeah he was good in his craft and art. His personal life and choices and all other controversy. Lets not forget anything, let us remember a man who was very fortunate and look at the ups, downs and mishaps in his life. There is a lot to learn from his life. Hope some of the young celebrities takes a bit of time and look at his life and learn that life is precious and every bit of time is earned. So don’t waste it in abuses, try to use it.
 
Here is one song of Michael Jackson I like.
 
 

Wish Of A Wandering Soul.

If you have read the last poem “A Step To Tomorrow” you may get a lot of connection to this poem. I haven’t said it in recent times the way I write poems. I write a lot and then I go through an editing process what I edit out, I call it “Left Over Lines”. Most of the time it makes no sense to add these lines to the poem at all. So they remain in my hard drive. Sometime after couple weeks after I wrote those lines I may be able to make those Left over lines into a poem of its own. I wrote A Step To Tomorrow on May 15th and on May 26th when I came back home from a long weekend trip I sat alone and picked up the paper on which I printed out the left over lines. I made some changes here and there and here it is.. The name may not really connect instantly to the poem but read the first paragraph carefully. You will know what the hell I was going through.

 

Have a great evening everyone.

Wish Of A Wandering Soul.

Drag me mind, to the hell of love, drag,

Screamed and screamed to find in mind and all around,

Insanity that from mind may take away,

Thoughts, dreams, hopes and a lot of love for her soul

A mind with hopes and wishes filled,

A mind that thrives to be heard,

And unheard the mind always remained,

To see that mind nature shedding tears waited,

When those wishes and hopes nature with showers showered,

Oh’ with the radiance of nine divine gems seen,

The silhouette of yours still filled in every corner of soul.

In the depths of mind forever you will remain,

When weariness of world from every corner clutches,

That silhouette in whispers will sing to heart,

Lullabies praising the love of mine to you.

Though you left me in my mind leaving,

A glow that never will lose its shine,

And time in the wilderness of life may fade,

Memories from every material corner,

But the ways that glow you left show,

Oh my soul forever in those ways will wander,

Oh’ forever to feel the feeling of yours will wander.

 

©RIAZAHAMMED.COM. 2009-2015 All Rights Reserved

 

Check my Poetry Show Later here.

 


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A Step To Tomorrow

I was late in everything today. There are those days when nothing really works as mind don’t process the present but stay way back. Yeah, this is one of those days. Towards the end of the day I pulled out this poem. Even though it was copyrighted to be here, I thought I may never post this poem in public. The substance of this poem is very personal. A person who is strange to me will not understand the depth of sadness I need to undergo and how much of it I needed to erase to bring out what came out of it. Love is a monster I should have never waked. But what the hell, it all happened at the wrong time with the wrong person and in the most unrealistic ways.

 I said….mmmm the “F” bomb hehehe

Then I said, no one cares, so what the hell, post the poem. Some day in some way some unfortunate person is going to find a connection. Then my love will rest in peace.

 

Have a great evening everyone.

 

A Step To Tomorrow.

 

Oh’ about every object of beauty I wrote,

As the beauty of every creation of God gave,

A feeling in my senses took no shape,

But every time one of my senses the feeling touched,

Upon my face the feeling spread a smile.

 

The drag net of life all around dragged,

Like an elusive squid Oh’ again and again I slipped,

Life into the darkest depths of unknown took,

Oh’ even then into the depths of my mind touched,

A feeling that in the insights of mine sprouted,

A million blooming flowers in a never ending garden.

 

Oh through that garden many times I walked,

Into the depths of life’s unknown many times I swam,

Over the rainbows many times I ran,

And birds of many colors this whistling poet stalked,

As every possible imaginations decades brought,

Oh through it all one by one I went,

Ah’ I lost the feeling or the feeling abandoned me I know not.

 

The summer wind blew from west and then to every corner flew,

The rays of sun brought heat beneath skin that boiled the blood,

Stars at night faded in the dust devils that went up high,

The wrath of mother nature in the early morning calmed,

As drizzles from above cooled the earth deep inside,

And mind in the smell of new born dust sizzled,

And ears in the sounds of thunder opened more,

Sun in the color of the cooled down blood rose,

And the union of all these beauties danced,

Oh’ I my prayers from whispers to screams evolved,

All went quite, no smell of dust, in the heat of sun, skin burned,

Then mind to soul whispered,

“The past can only echo a long lost voice,

History means nothing to the future,

Gather the present, walk to morrows”.

 

One last time to the long lost voice I listened,

One last time the page of history I turned,

And the lessons to the future I take,

A smile upon my face sprouted,

When closing the pages of my past with your images filled,

That long lost feeling filled every corner of mine.

 

©RIAZAHAMMED.COM. 2009-2015 All Rights Reserved

The Dead Lover.

After a fantastic weekend I am back at work. I had a dental appointment and needed to do a show on blogtv. Yesterday was good and today was better but the weather oh’ boy. It is really bad out here heat index is about 107…. Damn Well other than that little busy with work and I came to work late too. I may be doing a show later tonight.. Scott my friend is doing a show too so if I don’t reach home in time I won’t do the show tonight. But my xanga family (the ones that betrayed me and left trashing promises are not included) here is a poem for you all. Well what I told in the poem is true.

 

The Dead Lover.

 

Torn thoughts like little devils haunt,

And from the depths of mind boomerang,

Memories of those years when a crystal he carved,

From the depths of his soul with all the feelings filled.

 

Oh’ all the innocence of childhood days he poured,

And the crystal with yellow light glowed,

The confusion of all his teenage days he poured,

And the crystal with blue light glowed,

The fighting anger of the young man he poured,

And the crystal with red light glowed,

Then the crystal mixed all of those he poured,

And into his soul imprinted,

Verses of life times ahead,

Verses that praised love of her.

 

A million colors through the crystal sprouted,

And in every ray saw the smile of her,

But oh’ the dearest darling of him left it all,

Ah’ the crystal, back into his soul she thrown,

As into a wild world a nose dive she took,

Far, far away from his senses she fell,

And the helpless warrior in loveless confusion fell.

 

Silence in his mind echoed,

And every where a gloom spread,

When the glow of the crystal taken away,

Oh’ inevitability through life pierced,

And every moment when the crystal its shape took,

He should have thought about the moment that bleeds,

And dissolved what came out of the essence of life.

Oh’ no enemy killed this warrior,

As he never fought anyone with any sword, bow or gun,

Just dreams, hopes and it all filled in to make a lot of love,

And from her mind never will he die,

And the crystal bound to his soul forever will survive,

And red light into the crystal forced its way,

Even when darkness in every corner and senses filled.

 

©RIAZAHAMMED.COM. 2009-2015 All Rights Reserved.

I did a wonderful show yesterday on blogtv presenting some of my latest writings there. It is fascinating how much people love to see a show, any show. The show makers should become a bit more open in making wonderful shows there. There are some amazing people I found there… Mike Mozart(jeepersmedia) Gayle(GodBlessHumanity) Chandra(BlondeRootsProduction) TiciRika(Federika) Natalie Ann, etc. They all amazed me inspired and encourage me to be better. I am glad when I do a show but this weekend I will not be doing a show as I am going to drive tomorrow aha.

   Here is a poem hope you all will understand what I am talking about. It was first named “The Play” by the time I ended the poem, the play does not matter, actors mattered that’s what this is all about.

 

Just Read…

May you all have an amazing weekend filled with joy, laughs and lot and lots of love.

 

The Solitary Actor.

The curtains have gone up,

From every corner light faded in,

And the play with ear piercing screams started,

Oh’ what wonders this play to show,

Though plot-less in every way this play in making.

 

Actors for the roles to play in this play, came,

And for the roles for them given, some never fit,

Ah’ some during this dynamic play, fallen away,

Some in silence stared but in mockery smiled inside,

And some ran away as far as they can unknowing,

What this play is all about and remained far.

 

The greatest wonder of this dynamic play,

The plot through the play, unfolded,

Oh’ none known the plot ahead of time,

But time known and in time were written,

Who play what role in this play,

Still some abandoned the play by their own choice.

 

Tales of innocence the play first told,

Then tales of adventures the play played,

Song of romance in happiness and sadness the play sung,

Then the survival of it all the play portrayed.

 

The wonder of the play got over,

Faces lost colors and faded,

Actors gone, curtains torn,

Most actors are part of the audience now,

Some actors faded into oblivion,

Oh’ the play going on and on though light started fade,

One actor trying hard to fill in the stage,

Playing every possible part in the most dramatic ways,

Restless, yet, that actor won’t stop until fallen,

He chose to remain in the play,

As while acting in a play none in audience up close will see,

The tear filled eyes of a lover whom none ever loved.

 

©RIAZAHAMMED.COM. 2009-2015 All Rights Reserved

A Daughter’s Tears.

What’s up folks? Are you all having a good time around. There are some who are bored even when they have companions. Honestly I would rather have no one than a boring g/f. I am enjoying summer. It is really cool here where I live. The only summer trip I am going to have is to Milwaukee Summer Fest. Unlike last year, I am working these days. So can’t take too many days off.  But I will be there. I am feeling good now as mouth is all healed except for a bit of numbness I feel on the left side of my mouth. Hopefully I will be able to eat steak in couple of days. J

  This poem I wrote this poem some two weeks back. It was a spontaneous writing. No plans, no ideas kept in mind just when I was sitting with a lot of pain in my mouth after the surgery I took the pen and started writing this. I wanted to say so much as so many things came to my mind out of thin air but the pain ate it all. What came after that pain and poetry circus was this. Honestly I like this one, you may not do that but I did after reading what I myself wrote,  just patted on my cheeks and said.. classy… even though it gave me a little more pain… hahaha.

  

Enjoy the poem.

 

A Daughter’s Tears.

 

The train wheels over the rails grinded,

The rhythm of the sleepers slowly gained momentum,

Sleep deprived night and day, Oh’ the cold she felt,

Of the metal bars on her cheeks,

Again and again she blinked and every blink a question raised,

A question asked by many who saw her that day,

They all behind her back murmured as her eyes looked,

Like two marbles, cold, solid, yet without tears.

The question spread again and again,

“Why she shed no tears when her dad died?”

 

Though mind filled with pain gloomed,

The drag of the train moved everything behind,

And with it mind got dragged through sleep,

And she felt those big hands holding,

Her for the first time as her first breath she took.

Then the pleasant dream into her mind shown,

Him holding her and helping her walk,

Upon his foot her tiny soft foot she kept,

Afraid but felt secured in every step she laid,

Oh’ what fantastic life he helped her walk.

Memories of her screams in his hands,

When he held her in his arms in pool to teach her swim,

And the long walks and runs on the beach,

Chasing crabs and gathering tiny pebbles and shells.

 

From tree house or bike every time she fell,

Sat down with her holding her hands with his eyes filled,

Stood stern when to the wrong paths she ventured, guiding,

Her back to the paths of truth and sanctity.

 

Oh’ her mind that father read as he got her everything he can,

Even before her wish she spoke,

But without asking when she held the hands of her love first,

From far looked, smiled and away he walked, shaking head.

 

Her dad brought up the little girl to a lady of honor,

Every lesson about the world to her he taught,

Life took that pretty girl and made her symbol of perfection,

Of womanhood O’ perfected in the love of fatherhood.

 

Life is a merciless, senseless, passionless monster,

Took her away and that day the dream shown,

When holding the tears with smiles and shivering hands sent,

A daughter to her ways which she chose from the wisdom he taught.

 

When every bit of life lived as a man, husband and a great father,

Oh’ that father left no stone unturned,

A life to the fullest lived and he left leaving a heaven of memories.

 

She woke up with tears flowing from both her eyes,

As in her mind echoed the truth of her tearless eyes earlier,

And the flowing tears when only memories remained,

Ah’ those tears came not in the death of a man,

But in the celebration of the life of a great father,

Oh’ they brought in those eyes those happy tears.

 

©RIAZAHAMMED.COM. 2009-2015 All Rights Reserved

 

A Castle In Seconds.

Not a lot to say about myself. I woke up late and rushed to work. It was a crazy day. I did all I can this day and this week. Still… naaa I should not be ambitious like I was 15 years ago. Life should be lived through ages.

  Before I go into the poem if someone want to add me to Twitter add me here is the link http://www.twitter.com/LonelyPoet

   Now about this poem that follows. Every fathers day I think about writing a poem. But never really wrote anything. As I cannot write a poem today and release it this day itself because of copyright issues, I wrote a poem, not today. It was not completed early this week. It took some wild turns and twists. Some part needed to be removed from the poem as that looked very creepy. I hope you all will enjoy this one. I brought the words “Happy Father’s Day” in the poem but it is not about Fathers Day. Maybe another time I will write about Father’s Day… when I am a real Father. Hope you all understand.

 

A Castle In Seconds.

 

Attractive, charming and pleasant,

Oh angels will lose their charms in her prettiness,

Looking at him she smiled again and again,

So young, but not too young,

He is old, not too old but not young anymore,

Stood up and to walk away he tried,

But nothing can stop him from looking back,

Those eyes and smile, somewhere in memories hide,

Long days filled years cloud memories,

Oh’ still a young lady of this age he never known.

 

He walked away thinking deep,

And the little angel to forget he tried,

When browsing through the magazine stands,

Clouds cleared, “Elisa”, he cried,

From a long gone past she awoke,

Rushed he to every corner of the street,

But no sign of the angel who smiled like her,

In disappointment on the stone bench he sat,

With glimpses of a long gone past through mind flashing,

College days, party nights, travels, movies, coffee shops,

Unemployment, misunderstandings, tears, anger and bitterness,

Breakup and busy schedules of foundations of life,

A foundation well built but no castle upon it built.

 

Oh’ he remembered it all in minutes,

But in confusion of all senses frowned,

As no clue he got about Elisa and the young lady he saw,

When about to walk away from behind he heard a sweet voice,

“Happy Father’s Day, Daddy”

Turned around and he saw Elisa holding the young angel,

Nodding with a smile, the nod that answered without words,

Every question that to his mind came,

And built a castle faster than any architect can.

 

©RIAZAHAMMED.COM. 2009-2015 All Rights Reserved

Murmur Of A Vagabond

I will be back on blogtv tonight for a brief show. I am not fully fit to do any show. My left chin still hurts. And I haven’t shaven for nearly two weeks. Still I will be there.

   The week is almost over. I really wished for a week like this, so, no complaints. Catch you all later.

 

Enjoy the poem.

Murmur Of A Vagabond.

The crowd every moment fattened,

But none known to each other at each other they looked,

Strangers in a closely knit world filled,

By the pathetic portion of materialism,

That runs through the veins of screaming losers,

None hear them but their spiritual ghosts,

Oh’ the reality of those ghosts murdered,

By passionless lovers and their admirers.

 

More and more people to the middle of the town poured,

Even couples who left home as couples became strangers,

And through them all step by step he walked,

Many smiling strangers his eyes don’t see,

None of the mocking giggles his ears don’t hear,

Those arrogant ones who bumped on him he felt not.

The world as is from his mind left,

Life from his veins drained,

Oh’ the poison of the witchcraft of love too left,

As every loving feeling from his mind he erased.

 

The fast moving crowd, many without direction wandered,

Artificial lights in many colors glittered,

Oh’ their minds he could hear,

And only for one face all around him he looked,

Then the wisdom from the past through his mind breezed,

And to himself he murmured,

“Oh’ how much I loved you dear,

And how much I love you dear,

Why through the wilderness of this world you danced?

Why only scream of your long lost ghost I hear?

Why to the love of mine you never looked,

Through the spiritual side than the material mockery of the world?”

 

In his mind or any of his wisdom in his mind he knew,

Gave any answers to those questions murmured,

Rain poured and the crowd lost their grip,

As he walked on and on knowing where he will reach,

Not knowing how his mind will gain a bit of peace at that moment.

 

©RIAZAHAMMED.COM. 2009-2015 All Rights Reserved

Questions.

It was a lousy, drowsy weekend. A total waste of time. I didn’t do anything just slept most of the time and Vicodin helped too. The pain is still there so I cannot eat anything that needs good chewing. I want to eat steak, big outback steak. Damn when I wanted it I can’t eat it. One thing I don’t understand, my belly still is the same size, damn, one week of literally liquid food no change, if I eat one steak, my belly increases half an inch.

   Enough rambling about my weekend and lonely life hehe. People misunderstand me. That is the curse I live with. I intend only good for everyone. If at any point what I said or did hurt anyone please forgive me. I have only one request, if one cannot pay attention to me or not make me wait please don’t even think about communicating with me. Because unlike many others I am very alone so I seek attention. You want to call me an attention freak, go ahead, if that is who I am in your definition so be it. But never wake me up and tell me there is no supper for you. Hope what I meant is understood.

 

 Here is a poem.

    

Questions.

Clouds like dragons float around firing,

Venomous fire at each other sparking,

And falling on to Earth, as summer danced in,

In this season when spring left with promises unfulfilled.

 

The lush greenery spring time left bore no flowers,

And days like magical serpents into the depths of nights grew,

Still all across the horizon I see not,

No star with the glow from your eyes, born,

No wind in the rhythm of your heart singing, blown,

Ah’ still at the wonders of the world I look and wonder,

Why without a dream for me to see you left,

A thousand reasons you can tell,

A hundred different ways to walk,

Away from me into the world in rainbows bound.

 

Unrealistic all definitions are,

In every definition in the wonderful mind of yours,

And to the world around you, me and everyone else,

Why not walk on one of the rainbows into my heart pierce?

Didn’t you named the glow in your heart once after me?

Oh’ will you ever be able to turn off, the light you and I are?

 

Wipe away the mirages,

Whip away the whining distractions,

Who all with friendly smiles shadows,

But will leave you to melancholy and pain in dark.

 

O’ Summer sun come from above the darker clouds,

And with those gentle palms of light caress,

The face in brightness only seen by her,

Shine bright through moon at night,

To show her dreams filled with love of mine.

 

O’ my dear, there are no more definitions for my love,

As all my love was molded and made your soul,

As in your thoughts even nature around me dissolves in me,

Why not make the unreal real and bless the love of ours?

 

©RIAZAHAMMED.COM. 2009-2015 All Rights Reserved

Falling Feathers

My face looks like a rotten pumpkin now. I am not kidding. It is horrible; it’s no wonder why people curse the dentist. I didn’t curse him. Well last 4 days shown me how I can deal with pain, in a way it was nice I was all alone because if there was someone with me I would have made that person hate me. Said all that I a going to rest this weekend. It’s been a while since I sat and wrote with pen on paper something. Let’s see what comes out of it.

 

Well the poet never leaves his readers disappointed. Here is a 5 min scribble.

 

Falling Feathers.

 

One by one the feathers fell,

As time in waves passed me by,

Though a thousand dreams I have seen,

None stayed to see how their fulfillment brings,

Joy to my mind, as they too faded with bad times.

 

Now upon an imaginary tree as a phoenix I sit,

Waiting for the last feather to fall,

Oh’ the fate of the phoenix one know,

Ah’ that day will birth with the colors of your love. 

 

 

PhotoFunia-46eea8

©RIAZAHAMMED.COM. 2009-2015 All Rights Reserved