Today I did a BlogTV show after nearly 3 months. Whoops it was an Epic Fail. Nothing went right.. I screwed up reading poems, only 5 people showed up. Then after finishing the show I kinda looked at myself and remembered some part of this song.
There is a simple way life that can be lived, it is easy, do not bother anyone. Oooh… it is easier said than done. Do you know what our main problem is, we are attention freaks. We can never live without the attention of others. We crave for it, and because of that we do freaky things, which in turn make us all look bad. Then what do we do? Depression, compression of arteries, drugs, alcohol, rehab, feeling insecure… you name it. Do you know there is a positive side to things and none goes through that way? The choice is yours to make and you make the wrong choice and then feel bad about it, blames others some becomes maniacs and are lost forever.
I once made a bad choice, right after that I did not know that I even made a choice. The reality was unacceptable; the beauty of the illusion, amazing. Then I started writing more and more. That act looked bizarre to many there is this one soul I love and respect who once asked, “Can you forgive yourself?” and at that time I thought there is no way I can forgive. Because there is nothing to forgive the very choice led both of us to understand how good we are. The positive side of things we ventured helped us to be sane. Writing got her into mind, writing got her out. When I said writing got her out, mm may not be 100% true as there is always a place for her in my heart and she will always be there. The very thought of that act to straighten things out gave me the first lines of the following poem. From there it flowed like a river in mid spring time. The style may be familiar to my readers, as I have already written and posted couple of poems in the same style here, in the course of my time here.
The Elusive Poem.
Write, Write and write about all that I wrote,
Wrote, Wrote and Wrote,
Many lines onto my mind embedded,
Many to dreams evolved,
Many dreams made me write more.
Oh’ so many thoughts, dreams and dreams about dreams,
With care, love and passion I weaved,
The material heart beat fast for senses to comprehend and reflect.
Fast breath broke the pre-dawn silence,
Then with the first break of light in the East,
All thoughts, dreams and all verses united,
And went invisible, unheard, nothing any sense can feel.
Body left bed, home and town,
Day grown tall like a country maiden in beauty and warmth,
The streets like scared morning doves scattered,
And the night into past went and from an unknown dimension, haunted.
Days passed, weeks to unknown depths fell,
Months mocked, and years to fate fell pray,
In the whirlpool of time, with stubborn inevitability.
Many events defined life,
Many moments left memories bleeding,
Oh’ that poem mind haunted, elusive remained,
As life in seclusion crawled.
Through ways dark and till now none ventured,
Many days bright seen but by western horizon consumed,
Then one dusk watching the inevitable, alone in the falling mist sat,
Far, Far away a little spot wandering eyes found,
That grown as every second to a long lost past dissolved.
Oh’ you came close,
In your presence horizons glowed,
In my presence a smile upon your face showed,
And then into your eyes I looked,
Ah’ through those eyes in clarity I saw,
The poem, dreams and thoughts in union disappeared,
When mind in the wanderings through fate lost,
Now in all purity as your soul glows.
©RIAZAHAMMED.COM. All Rights Reserved 2010.
There are two parts to this post. Blog and Poem READ.
Never be disappointed in what not happened. Be satisfied with what happened by seeing the good of all the things unfolded in the given time. The difference between people of the 80s and the sprouting generation born in the 90s is the latter generation wants everything to happen fast, even growth girls want silicon boobs, boys wants penis enlargement pills, young mom wants neighbors husband, young dad wants neighbors wife, for some its all complicated as they want both neighboring husband and wife. The toddler crawling around looks at all this and shakes head and in mind asks…
“Why the hell did you morons became the reason for me being here?”
He will never get the answer, so he just crawls away after the ladybug that runs away not to end up with undigested cream and baby-soup in his stomach.
As for the generation sprouted out in the 70s and 80s they have heard, seen and known the manual world. In those days, as kids we used to go out and hang out together. If we go and put hands on the shoulder of another kid no one called us gay. In those days kids enjoyed making toys out of trash and sleep with a smile dreaming about what next he/she should make. It’s just that we over achieved in so little time the generation that came after that don’t need to do anything. They need to sit on a couch and play the video game and all the wrongs comes out of it, blame the past generations. Life is simple isn’t it? Nope. That’s it.
The Autumn Flower.
Bloom O flower bloom,
Into my heart bloom,
Silence all around us crawl,
And petal by petal opened,
Seeing the morning of fall,
And the falling dew she caught.
Summer and spring into history faded,
Winter took the armor of Northern wind to lash,
In between like an odd man in the pack fall came,
Filled colors, kissed many warm cheeks,
Dropped the honey in the heart of the flowers,
Brought the morning dew with moonlight filled.
Oh’ blinked my eyes not even once,
As carefully watched even the last petal unfold,
What care I gave and let the plant grow and flower,
And what wonderful beauty in front of my eyes I see.
Then in mind a little whisper I heard,
“Oh’ in the world a lot of things you see and hear,
In this world beauty in strange ways you will see,
None is yours to own for in your hands the flower will die,
And will rot and perish into stinking corpse,
Let the flower hold up her beauty for the world to see,
And their enjoyment as happiness you take in peace”.
No more arguments to my conscience I made,
As slowly away from the pretty flower I fade,
A sight I may not see in full bloom another time,
But the spirit of her beauty and the love I felt,
Forever in my soul like a star will shine and stay.
©RIAZAHAMMED.COM. All Rights Reserved-2010
The first birth of light Oh’ always remains unseen,
As pain of desires yesterday and night in heart left,
Left in a heart that untiringly beats.
Oh’ some pain in confusion woke,
Nightmares that haunted childhood days,
And those nightmares still spoke,
In the same screaming voice like thunder heard.
Followed by the howling of an ageless owl,
And the screeching of a sightless bat,
Then through the jungle chased,
Wild beasts with blood filled eyes,
Ah’ all lost as in the big web of the spider caught,
Oh’ no beast dared to steal her meal,
Then to the center of the web she came,
And with her hand caressed forehead with sweat filled,
Oh’ nightmare gone only love remained,
And the sprouted tears with her soft smiling lips wiped.
In the childhood days it was motherly love one unconditionally felt,
In these days abandoned desires like a ghosts cared,
For, without this mind and soul they exist not.
©RIAZAHAMMED.COM. All Rights Reserved. 2010