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Good news… I got more than I anticipated about the poem “The Man And The Poet” wooo hooo thanks a lot my readers, fans, relatives for the support. Bad news.. the following poem hehehe Written from a thought that originated from what I said in the blog of a girl. This is what I said, “I am not obsessed with you or anyone, I am not even obsessed with myself. I don’t care about material life at all”. That gave me a thought what does people care about these days. From what I have seen and heard, I know most of the young people don’t care about anything. Those thoughts made me write this poem. Now to my readers I will make this clear I have nothing to hide from my side. The way I am is something most of you are definitely not used to. I am very emotional and extremely passionate. Because of that if I am friendly I will shower you with praises and do whatever I can to make you feel good. This can be seen or interpreted by many as obsession. On the contrary if you become an enemy of me, there used to be a time when my short temper either beat them up or at least leave a curse. That also can be seen as an obsession. Now a days I learned not to be short tempered anymore. This is not the first time anyone told that I have OCD issues. This happened many times before. I was called many names, my lifestyle was defined in many ways by many, many people. They are right to an extend and wrong to a greater extend. The one thing none ever understood is the fact that I am like one of those young folks out there. I don’t really care about anything in material. I am a Sufi. If you don’t know what is a Sufi, google it. You will know. All this through my five sense I feel are just clothes I one day will leave and then in eternity will feel the love of God. The romance and love I can give to a girl is yet another pretty cloth. That’s it.

 

Enjoy the poem.

 

The Era Given To Me.

The pencil on the tip of the fingers rolled,

As mind through countless folders inside passed,

The details of events so sparsely laid,

Ah’ faces never forgotten,

Memories recorded in association of things felt.

 

Modern day lifestyles cunning fought,

With yesteryears passion filled life,

Oh’ none cared about what is lost,

The generation sprouting unable to dream.

 

Decades it will take for a tree to grow,

Couple of hours to cut it down,

The fruit start to rot the moment it leaves,

The fruit starts to rot the more on the tree it stays.

Freedom early or late Oh’ rot and stink it will,

Rot and stink it will.

 

Modern day to yesteryears will pass,

But to what memories will associate I know not,

Ah’ the phantoms of generations like zombies will wander,

With their sense with lead sealed,

Ah’ many great minds lost in the arrogance of the liberty lady,

Oh’ to what memories that will associate I know not.

 

A simple mind, a humble mind always will smile,

A good smile, wonderful smile will gain one smile in return.

There ends my association with the era given to me.

 

 ©RIAZAHAMMED.COM. All Rights Reserved-2011.

When someone says an opinion it should be taken as that person’s opinion not an insult and retaliate as “Who are you” that is not decent that is just pride. That attitude is wrong for anyone. There are people who criticize me for many things I don’t go on asking them who they are and what they are to me. I just tell them I understand your opinion and move on.
   Understand, talent is given equally to everyone. It is the way one keeps their focus on their talent that brings and makes a person better than the rest. If one loses focus by following the madness of the world all that will remain will be pain. Sorry to see someone wonderful falling for that trap I have seen many falling into. Like I always say.. one should learn from the wisdom of the past not try to make mistakes and learn from it.

This is a poem I wrote for the anti-romantic poet’s show for authors community video chat. It was initially a total fabrication but once I came towards the end of the poem reflections of some real life events crept in. So I thought I will make this a public one.

The Brutality Of Mankind.

Fools all around paraded,
As the fountains sprouted in the middle of the circle,
Mermaids holding wine chalices pouring,
Colored water from the glittering lights underneath,
Oh’ even in their stone carved eyes one can see,
Passion filled lust from seven heavens not to mankind known.
 
Oh’ the flowers in the garden danced,
To the rhythm of winds from north, east, west and south came,
The wind stole the pollen leaving flowers glad,
And the humming bird beat the wind and gravity,
To stay in air sucking honey to fill every mind.
 
With thoughts filled mind through the garden he walked,
The land around he saw once with farms and industries filled,
Now a graveyard for the American dream,
And for peace of mind young and old romanced in competition.
 
To show their love and care for the flowers they came,
Expression of emotion they deeply felt,
Hurting the thorns with lusty thoughts,
Fools through hallucinations as sex addicts they evolved,
Constant companions of the whispering devils.

Many love not but act,
As if in love to make a fashion statement,
Oh’ those zombies a calamity for mankind,
A degenerated curse destroying dreams in excuse of love.

Love an action with no reality cared,
Love the excuse for millions of death,
Oh’ love bitten mongers cry not,
Your moans by thin air consumed,
And by light of reality blinded.
 
Originated from illusions dreams ate mind,
The closer he got to any flower they vanished,
As men with evil grin plucked,
And to nymphomaniacs gave,
The essence of their self proclaimed love,
That after two minutes of sex evaporated.
 
Truth not seen, buried dream’s moans heard,
Lusty humans in their comforts violated,
Their own conscience with brutal spiritual force.
 
The flowers from stems detached,
Petals in winds of ambitions withered,
The brutality of mankind in one word poet told,
“LOVE”
Then with an innocent laugh deeper into desert he walked.

©RIAZAHAMMED.COM. All Rights Reserved-2011.

Here is the new poem. One should be really experienced with my style of  writing to really deeply understand this poem. There are those who love these kinda writings this poem is meant for them. That doesn’t mean that no one else should try to read or understand this. Try and see if it makes sense to you if so you will understand all poems I have written. If not, find a different poet to understand.
 
The Chanting Of The Birds.

The day began by countless birds chanting,
Chanting that made us feel words,
Words that healed the wounds of Yesterdays.

Oh’ nothing more I heard,
Though world around in pleasant explosion erupted,
Nothing more I wanted to hear,
As in those chants mind reflected,
The prayers in early mornings I made,
To purify the love of us,
To eradicate the doubts in our minds,
To strengthen the trust in our souls,
To make us love each other more.

Ah’ not many heard the beautiful chants,
Most into chaotic calamities plunged,
Calamities of their own design,
And losing senses facedown they all fell,
Oh’ they should have listened,
To the chant, to hear loving souls,
For in there is the learning of happiness, sadness, anger and hatred,
Of the one whom you love.

Oh’ in the chants I have heard,
The yearning of her soul I have heard,
Her mind by shadows of past haunted,
And she singing, dancing and smiling away,
The chaos, confusion and dilemma.
In the deeper levels of the chants I thought I heard,
A giggle or sob I know nothing about,
Oh’ hour glass turned again and again by nature,
And the chants went on and on.

Then all paused, no movement felt,
No words in mind came,
Just the sound of an illusion of the sand falling.

Then just the sob of a single bird I heard,
All clear so close to real,
The words to mind came,
Through five sense that made perfect sense,
No one is listening to the chanting of the birds reflecting my soul.

©RIAZAHAMMED.COM. All Rights Reserved-2011.

Happy Halloween Folks.

 
Darkness from all around crept,
And into the deathly cold mist of October filled,
Fallen leaves scattered and by the earth eaten,
Evening predators big and small out their holes crawled.
 
Through the mist they passed,
Big sacks upon their back they carried,
Blood dripping spears and swords some carried,
Some zombies had knives through their neck and head pierced.
 
Darkness followed wherever they went,
Nightly flowers of weeds in fear drooped,
The scary owl to scare them aloud booed,
But seeing their looks into the dept of night flown in fear.
 
Darkness all around the alleys spit, silence,
Even their footsteps silence consumed,
And their footprints by dark gloomy mist erased,
Fear, ahead and behind, above and below them danced.
 
The wolf from the cloak of darkness came,
Breaking silence at them he howled,
And when seen them as the devils of the night,
In fear and respect bowed and left.
 
The glow worms hearing the wolf woke,
And came around the walking devils to see,
The eyes of evil in first hand in their little glow,
But from their view to an alley those walking devils turned.
 
The corner house where a glowing pumpkin welcomed,
All of them with a permanent devilish smile,
Those devils hard at the door knocked,
And to the fear of all screamed, “Trick Or Treat”.
 
The door opened and into their sacks fell,
Gold and silver coated candies that made them smile,
With smiles as evil as the rotting pumpkin they walked,
Walked to the next door with the same old screams.
 
Oh’ they know not up above and in between clouds sat,
The real devils by real Angels kept away,
For just this night when little fake devils can scream the good old scream,
“Trick Or Treat”.

©RIAZAHAMMED.COM. All Rights Reserved-2011.

I thought of wearing the costume of ‘Narasimha’ the Indian mythological character for Halloween. But now I clearly know I don’t need any costumes to scare anyone as being me and loving the one I love already scared her out of all normalcy

For those who think life is a business. Time to wake up and understand you ain’t good at this. You are going to get FUCKED up.. yeah.. I said it.. The path you are in is taken by many many others.. I once told.. I wish she learns from the wisdom of past than from her mistakes. Looks like that wish did not come true. Well.. none of my wishes ever came true.
Sun can shine, turn, turn and go, Mood can turn, turn and go, With them upon earth I too turn, turn and go, But my soul is still stuck on you, Stuck on you MY DARLINNNNNNNNGGGGGGGGG

There are incredibly talented poets who should just do what they are born and destined to do. Some just lose their direction and purpose and try music, dancing and all other mockery of poetry just to gain popularity. There will come a day when they realize the most beautiful part of life is the poetry and the gift of understanding that part and expressing it is no simple task. Wasting time and energy on other things is equal to suicide.

When you hear the word Metallica you will think about hard rock and heavy metal screaming. Listen carefully you can understand, lyrics written to the syllables that fit the note. One should understand gems are found in the depths of darkness and heat. Love is the result of deep understanding from the depths conscious and unconscious putting every other emotion upon the coals. It is like a heavy metal song, one should listen carefully and if you do what one will find is a gem. It is not often done, what happen these days is even love is a fucking fashion statement. Sad But True.