Month: December 2005

I slept half part of the day. Then I woke up hungry to eat an Elephant
in full. But settled with lamb steak. I don’t know who but I see a
dream where two eyes that looks like stars guiding me out of dark right
before I wake up. I mentioned this yesterday. It is a girls eyes. Well
I don’t feel afraid when I wake up. I feel good hehehe. That reflected
well in me when I was trying to finish this poem.  I am back
writing ‘Tess Of The D’Urbervilles’. I feel terrible leaving it aside
but I’ve had no choice with deadlines and me and my company getting
conned and of course my loser talks.
 Here is the latest loser talk: Love gave everyone a flower
bouquet. What love gave me was a trashcan. So my penname may change
from LonelyPoet to “Trashcan”.

Enjoy the poem.

A Free Man.

A day I will never forget is a day,
I have no memory about,
The day I was born.

Even before mind kept tabs about,
Faces seen, smiles given, cries,
Innocence built deep inside,
Like the sprout of flowers in spring, sprouting.
A golden thread from the flower petals woven,
Bound heart year after year, season after season,
One by one the bounds increased.

Innocence grew to passions, passion to love of youth,
Driven by power of eagerness and lust,
Many forgotten smiles and faces,
Tearful eyes and nightmarish nights,
The bounds kept on growing,
As life fallen and through the never ending tunnels moved,
Where ever lasting silence and darkness makes love,
Where every hope, wish, dream failed,
And in failure again and again swam,
Loveless, passionless and delusional.

Senses have become parasites feeding,
On the delusional subconscious leaving,
Hopeless images in mind imprinted.
Still threads of love, passion, obsession, pain,
Hunger and lust bound heart tight.
The light of love I searched was seen,
But like mirages on a dry cold desert faded,
Eyes that promised everything,
Ears that heard nothing,
Lips that bore the poison of lust,
From the tunnel they all went away,
After the last bit of pleasure bound tight,
To a heart bound tight and squeezed.

There was calm, there was that little wind,
With every hope, eyes and mind opened,
Every bit of hard luck and pain wiped away,
As far away two bright little stars seen,
Guiding through darkness into a new born day,
But the bounds on my heart dried squeezing,
Every essence out of soul to survive,
I can no longer see those stars in the bright new day,
The fear of darkness, pain and failure again grabbed,
As I screamed aloud
“I am not going into that path again,
With a heart rotting in the bounds,
Of love grown out of innocence,
Passion, obsession and lust immorally conceived”.

The spirit of an aging man never dies,
The threads one by one I unbound,
Those threads bound hard tight,
By my own miserable mourning,
Every vain in the body started to feel,
The heat of an exploding star,
Blood like the lava from the depths of a volcano boiled,
But every bit I unbound free I became,
From a material life into spiritual realities,
Where there are no obligations,
No more passions as heart in freedom danced,
But before the last bounds of thread undone,
I looked up towards those little stars,
Though brightness around blinded me,
I still thanked those darling lucky stars,
May be it is to ever lasting loneliness,
May be it is to another cycle of billions of variables,
That makes up the phenomenon called future,
But in peace I walked away, as a freeman.

Another panic Friday passed me by. I woke up late as I was dreaming in
my sleep. She was good. Haha. Then when I got out my beautiful friend
was dancing outside and all over me. Snow, snow and more snow. Reaching
office I understood that it is Friday. Spend the morning debugging
programs and at 12:00 I got out as it was time for the Friday prayers.
On the way my company guys called me which officially started the panic
part. Contract problems, this, that I don’t know every thing sounded
wrong and as I was holding the phone with my gloves on, the phone slipped
through my gloves. The right top part broke and went somewhere. I felt sad. But
it still works. Anyway from my life patterns I know how this day is
going to end. I will have to lose money. I told my company guys that I
will take a cut in my paycheck and everything was solved. I’ve had no
choice as they still hold my visa. If they fire me now, I will not be
enjoying snow and cold I will be in India eating rice and curry in the
blistering heat, hehehe.
 Did I ever told you guys that I am a survivor…. If not… I just
said it… hehehe. How long this circus will continue…..? Who the heck
care????

Here is a poem I wrote from some impulsive thought. It didn’t made much
sense to me first. Then I know what I was thinking. And I said to
myself “Dirty mind, go home and sleep”.

My Ladies.

Days of every kind I walked through,
As fast as they could light took away the days,
Oh’ spring, summer, fall and winter,
The days carried me too along,
The life that perplexed me as usual,
Always changed with the changing days.

Images of them in my mind they left,
For me to see and cherish,
Even when in the darkness they hide.

In my mind every one with a name I kept,
But aged I am as many I forgot,
But some from the long lost memories fill in,
When a beautiful lady pass me by who bears that name.

Work again suck big time. We are nearing a deadline. My poor colleague
Jerry got in between the politics of two groups. But everything will be
okay. Last night I briefly talked to my mom, she is back after spending
some time with her sister. She turned 71 on 12th. I told her happy
birthday and she was all in cheer.

 I feel like a fool tagging some people with that survey. In fact
all three of my favorite poetesses disappeared from commenting
altogether. Sam, Ariel, Helen, I wonder what wrong I did this time to
piss you girls off my site. I checked all the comments I left in their
site and my post, but nothing weird is there.

   I am working on many, many ideas. I love this cold. Today
morning it was zero psst… I love bundling up and walking around. All my
colleagues call me crazy. And my response was, the heat in my loveless
heart always keeps me warm.

The Unworthy Lover.

The sweetness of love though never known,
In mind, dreams and words perfectly imagined,
Some of my verses sure defined you,
Some my dreams weaved only for you.

In the paths to you every senses opened,
And my unworthiness I learned,
My loveless destiny, foreseen.
Though I fell in sadness and felt orphaned,
I still got up and in tears walked,
To you the feeling of love ever enchanted,
Chanting verses many else in happiness recite.

Thanks everyone who commented showing their support for my last
post. Well… I am fine as after a long talk, the company I work for
agreed that they will follow legal actions against the guy but legally
they have to pay all my money. They asked me for sometime as the figure
is quite substantial. Till then I have to keep going by paying minimum
payments and on my brother’s credit card (my brother is on vacation and
is in India with his family.  But he knows this whole thing now).
Big relief for me. Now I don’t have a fresh poem, the poem I have is an
old one. It fits the feeling other than the financial chaos. I don’t
remember posting it in here, If I already did forgive me.
It can be found after this.
************************************************************************
Ok I have been tagged by threewishesdt to write 5 weird HABITS about myself.

                                     
RULES

The first player in the game starts with the topic 5 weird habits
about yourself. The people who get tagged need to write a xanga entry
about their 5 weird habits and state the rules. At the end of your
entry you need to tag 5 more people and state their names. Then go to
their xanga site and leave them a comment saying your tagged  and
tell them to read your site. If they have already done this then they
can consider them self untagged.

                             
5 WEIRD HABITS ABOUT MYSELF
1) I sleep with night light on as well
as something that makes some noise. I can’t sleep in total darkness and
I am really scared of total silence.

2) Wear only white socks.

3) Talk, talk, talk I keep on talking I repeat what I said again and
again it is hard for people to tolerate me at all ( the only one who
tolerates is my best friend Deepak Prabhakar, with whom I have had the
record phone conversation 7 hours 52 min and 21 seconds ).

4) Liking someone… This is the weirdest. If I like someone I will
like her/him for life. Even if that person hates me, does all the
things I hates, calls me names and beats me up.

5) Eating the same food. If I like a kind of food I will eat it
every day. It changes once in a while. The longest span one food had
with me, Philly Cheese Steak for one and half years as lunch while I
lived in San Francisco.

I am tagging, Kekeway_Arinya_Mekae, soulofthepoet, amymozo, kimmiethemommie, Th_Broken_Road
************************************************************************

A poem written looking at the sunset thinking about the people who
lost life,love and their ability to move ahead in the never ending
story of life.

Tears.

When all those who loved me,
Left me forever,
Though I felt so sad,
No tears came to my eyes,
When all those events ,
That made me happy, passed me by,
No tears came to my eyes,
When all the clucthes of life,
Pained the core of my nerves,
No tears came to my eyes,
But when you left me without a word of love,
Sadness filled my eyes with tears.

You know what… cheerfulness is not my cup of tea. I used the eff word
like a billion times today. You know for what. Being a good guy, a
decent guy.

 I will keep it short. I am a software contractor, between me and
the client there are four layers. This project was brought to my
company by a guy in Okalahoma and the whole interview process took
nearly a month. When I was confirmed the OK guy was not responding
properly to sign the contracts. At that time all of the guys told me to
go over this guy and sign the contracts. I insisted that he should be
kept in the loop as he is the one who brought this project in the first
place. We got him after a week and everything went well.

  I started the project on Oct 17 and everything I pay for was
agreed to be reimbursed by the end client. They did and of course the
first two layers in the contracts passed it through. My first paycheck
and three weeks of expenses all came together on the first invoice. Now
you can guess what happened. The Oklahoma guy is missing in action
after he got the money. No trace. The address seems to be faked the
phones are not answering and emails not responding. Now my company and
everyone else in the loop blame me for the whole thing. You know for
what… being the good guy. Here is the deal between me and my company,
they only pay me when they get paid, because this is a contract job.
All my credit cards are full after nearly two months of hotel stay and
other expenses. I am using my brother’s credit card now. Pssst…. There
goes my happiness.

There are some people who are born to be losers. I am one great example of it. Even doing good is not good enough.

I am writing some new stuff but the last couple of days were hectic
with things going bad after bad. Here is an old poem taken from LonelyPoet.Com

In the race of mankind winners become heroes and losers perishes to
dust, but we all forget the fact that one day the winners will join the
losers as dust. A poem written in frustration of the worlds race to
find the best, and most of the time for the fun of the selfish souls.

We Will Unite As Dust.

All over the world there seems,
A hurry to move ahead,
Far ahead into the depths of life,
Beat the one near you,
For what we don’t know,
Even in the young days,
Mothers said to be better than the best,
Teachers search for the best in the class,
Girls search for the best looking,
Men search for the sexiest,
Employers looking for the best skilled.
In the race of the human race,
Losers perish to dust,
Winners become heroes,
And many heroes legends,
We fight and encourage to fight,
Mentally, spiritually and many-a-time physically.
‘Yeah’ we all fought, fighting,
And will fight, to be the best,
And from there to be better,
But will unite as dust.

©RIAZAHAMMED.COM. This poem was released in LonelyPoet.Com in the fall of 1998.

This is a poem and intro taken from LonelyPoet.Com

If somebody ask me what inspired me the most to get out from many sad
situations in life, my only answer will be the songs of this great
singer, Elton John. No one can match the talent of this man, I think
millions were inspired by his music, and many millions are going to be
inspired by his music.

Photo, Courtesy. EltonJohn.Com

My Inspiration.

When the pain of life haunts me day and night,  
When whole life seem uncertain,  
When everything stopped moving,  
And my heart thrives to be soothed.  
Your tunes, and songs inspired,  
Me to get along with hope and dreams,  
Your songs woke me from illusions,  
And gave me the hope that,  
My golden days are on the way,  
When I am alone, your songs are my companions,  
Let the next generation be lucky,  
To be inspired like this LonelyPoet.

©RIAZAHAMMED.COM. This poem was released in the spring of 1999 in LonelyPoet.Com.

Sam… you are in my prayers as always. If you read this let me know how you feel. I hope you feel well enough to write some poems.

 She said in a post that she miss writing poems because of the horrible headache she have.

Ariel said she too have headaches mmm You too are in my prayers Ariel. Get well soon. I wonder why my favorite poets are all having headaches. Am I really causing all these headaches with my comments??

Wonderful couple of days I’ve had. My sinus is fine. I relaxed listening to my favorite music, and a lot of thoughts going behind my cheerfulness. Haha. I may be the only the one alive who is thinking why I am feeling good. All those things that made me sad last week remains as is. Nothing new happened. All the things that can make me happy did not happened at all. I know why I feel good. Because I zyphyrd(zeroed out, in other words I am empty) sounds not good. But I am feeling good about it. It is like paying off a big debt without any savings.

  I am erratic so I just don’t know what I will do next. I am a free man. Free of thoughts, free of dreams, free of love. There is a poem in my head, I will write it in the coming days. But this is not a day for writing a poem like that. This day is for that little boy who called himself Cuckoo’s friend and whistled a wonderful tune a long time back.  
 Here is a poem for you all.

The Cuckoo’s Friend.

I’ve heard the cuckoo sing,
What the wind said about the mind,
“In a valley amid snow capped mounts,
Where the gardens always is filled,
With flowers that never dies,
Where a dancer always dances,
To the beat of the heart that follows her footsteps,
Filling the inner walls of the mind.”

That in turn fills every corner of me,
Peace and harmony unheard to mankind.
A dreamer who walked out of a dream,
A walker who fell and crawled,
A lover who loved, loving and forever will love,
Listening to the friendly cuckoo who don’t look at me,
But keeps on singing what always keeps my mind at peace.

Don’t miss the Elton John show tomorrow on NBC at 8:00PM EST. His music inspired me more than any music in writing poety.

My sinus was stuffed when I woke up by around noon time today. It was agood weekend. I liked it as I felt good except for the right blockedsinus with a light pain on my right side of the head. I didn’t writeanything. I was just thinking about many, many things. Read poemsonline… Those are different poems than the usual ones one may see.Those are Sufi poems. I don’t want to give a lot of explanation aboutwhat is Sufism or who is a Sufi. People many times find it hard tounderstand what is Sufism. It is Islamic mysticism. There is poetry,music and meditation all involved in Sufism. I was reading translationsof Sufi poetry.

Here are couple of poems by Kwajah Moinuddin Hasan Chishti  (d1229 A.D) beloved spiritual leader who carried the Chishti lineage toIndia. I’ve visited the shrine of Kwajah Moinuddin Hasan Chishti when Ivisited Delhi for my visa stamping in May. Irrespective of religiousbelief all people come to Ajmeer where the shrine is. He is also knownas ‘Sultan e Hind” the emperor of India.
(1)
The noise of the lover is only up to
       the time when he has not seen his Beloved.
Once he sees the Beloved, he becomes calm and quiet,
      just as the rivers are boisterous before they join the ocean,
but when they do so, there are becalmed forever.

~~
(2)
The one who knows becomes perfect only when
      all else is removed from in-between him and the Friend.
Either he remains or the Friend.

~~

My Mo Cushle, Sam is in physical pain. She said yesterday. I did pray
for her. Anyone who reads this please say a prayer or two for her.
 A week gone, the ending wonderful. It snowed all night and
daytime here. WOW that cooled me down. From the depths of sadness, I am
cheerful. Well who the heck cares. Haha.
  After a long time I am walking into a weekend in a happy mood. I
don’t know why… why should I think why I feel good. Or Should I? The
only thing that bothers me, Sam. I’ve never known her, seen her, talked
to her, but she is a wonderful poet and I know I am a little too
sensitive in these kinda matters. I hope she is fine. This is the way I
talk when I hear someone is in pain. That’s why I come to many sites
and comment. Just to cheer you up, because my poetry don’t cheer people
up. They are just the expression of my sad side. May be in a happy mood
I may write a happy poem. Who knows?

You all have a wonderful weekend.

Here is another piece of verse from my old CD. This also I only wrote
it but never thought it will see daylight. But I liked it when I read
it couple of days ago, you be the judge.

There were lines written,
Everything about the mind thinking,
Defining and describing the unknown,
The core where all passions conceive,
The place where all senses merge,
Where all dreams rest.
Mind is like the sky,
An illusion in its wonder so real,
Away from where reality lies,
And the conscious always conflicts,
With the subconscious so unreal,
But in the process go astray,
Lives of many fragile minds and souls,
But truth should always prevail,
Simple was the truth, and simple is the truth,
Perfection is a greater illusion we always hunt,
And in the end the hunter become hunted. 

Here is a numerological analysis done by my older brother who is in
India who is a very good astrologer. Last week I asked him what’s up
with the calm I am having and he said he will look into it. He sent me
a pdf document that starts like this. My own words are highlighted and
quoted.

DESTINY
The destiny can be studied from the figures of the date of birth only,
that are added together to arrive at a figure between 1 and 9. In each
destiny, there are positive and negative aspects (the negative ones
hamper a spiritual evolution and a harmonious development). All the
negative aspects can and must be overcome to allow us to continue our
progression.

The Date of Birth 02/14/1969 gives 5 as Destiny Number.

Positive side= Freedom/Independence.
Negative side= Permanent instability/Scattering.

Your life should be varied, intense and bustling. You are eager for
freedom and very curious. With your spirit of adventure, you should be
careful not to go too far, not to disrupt others’ lives too much. You
should accept the calls of destiny. Otherwise, life could try hard to
make you mature.

“The above said is very
true. I am always eager for freedom, my adventurous mind took me away
from everything I’ve know in my childhood to the other side of the
world. And I was not careful and I think many, many time I myself have
felt I’ve gone too far. The last sentence makes me laugh. “

DAY OF BIRTH
Day of Birth is 14: You are creative; you have a thirst for changes and
a liking for adventure. You will have to be careful not to squander
your energy, if you want to achieve success.

CYCLES OF LIFE
First, the three Biological Ages:
The Number which symbolizes the Youth corresponds to the Month of
Birth. Youth associated to 2: possible influence of a woman on her own and a little
demanding. Be careful not to spoil this child. A great time for friendship.

“Who is that woman wow,
I don’t know, there were many.  I don’t care about all those
anymore. Who is next? If there is one or will be one that will be the
last.”.

The Middle Age, for this person, starts with the 32th Year. The
corresponding Number is associated with the Day of Birth.
Middle Age 5: a time with constant changes, in every field (love, work,
friends, house…). Pleasant unexpected events, travels, luck. Make the most
of your freedom, without going too far; respect others but do not take their
opinions too much into account.

“This is part right and
part wrong. Constant change yes, 11 cities in the last 8 years. 4
different girlfriends, travels, don’t take others opinion at all. Wrong
part, luck, never known that coming to me, pleasant unexpected events.
There were lot of events unexpected ones, none of them pleasant at all.”


The Old Age, for this person, starts with the 59th year.
Old Age 7: a time of studious and wise retirement, in full equanimity.

” If I have a son by that
age. He will kill me around that age. Oh’ what a menacing old man I
will be hehehe:” If anyone is interested in reading the whole thing
click this link. Numerological Analysis.

I don’t usually write at work. Yesterday late in the afternoon I
visited xanga from work as things were going way out of control at work
just for a relief. There was not much relief, I got confused after
visiting couple of sites. I wrote this short poem at that time.

Those Unheard Words.
 
Oh’ captivated heart remained,
In sheer magnificence of the beauty,
Inside and outside, perfection in congregation,
She held my senses known and unknown, prisoner,
And all definitions at bay remained,
Perplexed but bowed in shyness,
Of the passions felt inside.
 
A dreamer inside conceived,
Filled in were the passions,
But murdered before birth,
Love remains an unclaimed corpse.
For the material ear, unheard words.