Month: July 2006

Mo Cuishle,

You are partially right here and above everything else I feel I have a lot of respect for you for that understanding of the face that the love I felt was for a fictional character with your face upon her. Before I go any further I should explain a bit of that process through which I’ve gone through. My idea was to just take the character out of the book “Tess Of The D’Urbervilles” this is where I needed a face to that character. Because there was little or no description for the young “Tess”, I needed more and there I took you. Even before I put your face upon that very well respected character, I’ve had a lot of respect for you for the “I give you all of my luck” comment. Once I extracted that character it is her qualities that I wanted to depict and rest of the events in the novel I wanted to image in. The idea was wonderful but then everything went haywire as you from top of that character kinda started to fill in every aspect of my life. I think when I chatted with you on MSN I’ve told you I’ve had a similar situation where I know writing is what got me into this and it is writing that will get me out of this. By that time I decided not to write “Tess Of The D’Urbervilles” poem in the way I planned. I took the text and gone with events as is in the book to get to the character. This was in another way an attempt to get you out of the mind and to get the emotional side on the right track. Then I started the poetry marathon which led me to make all the hypothetical scenarios. Where I know at one or the other point you will figure the whole thing out. It worked. The whole attempt to get to Jennifer also helped. Then came another set of problems… Jennifer is flesh and blood is one self centered person I am dealing with. Things started to rewind and I blocked you out of my site. By that time I know I am in the process of going back to square one in this. Because you are way out of that character, you are you. I know I should not feel it. I did all I can to get rid the feeling. The Milwaukee trip, the wild rides, strippers and hookers you name it. All where attempts to divert the attention to something else. You may ask why… because I know one fact… there is no Tess behind you. It is Sam. That’s way too inappropriate. You are 16 and I am 37.

Now you told me something wrong… from what you said “If you loved “me”, things would be very different. You couldn’t love me, you’ve never met me. You love my face…” well I don’t agree with that at all. Love is spiritual, what you are talking about is the material part of it. If I loved only your face or looks then it is a mere sexual attraction than anything else. I am not that kinda person. For real love, one don’t need meet or even talk for souls see no boundaries. I know one thing… what I felt is real… it is just not the looks I liked, it is the person, the one who write things I understand and through which I learned a lot about the person I have never seen. And one who really understands my writing which is nothing but an extension of my emotions. That’s what I liked and said I love. Well… there are people who just see things in the other way and like things in the other way around. I am not that. I never met you, you are right. I don’t want to meet you. Even if I ever see you somewhere I may run, because it is just not right.

Sam it is easier to keep this talk going on and on and on. This time around I left and kept away. In all honesty I did not asked for your kindness which you offered. You came and told that to me. You wanted to know. I think I told ya… the truth is way to ugly and dirty. That’s why I am in a very dirty path. Will I ever recuperate from this mmm why the hell should I? As now I know the best feelings of love I ever felt was to someone only old enough to be my daughter. It just don’t worth to be myself anymore.

This poem was written yesterday… but I literally forgot to post it late night. My friend Mike Roberts is here with me. He will be here for another two to three weeks. We worked together long time back now he want to get back to IT industry and want to spend sometime with me as I am full of “IT” (LOL) and poetry. He don’t seems to understand like many of you do what these poems are all about. A while back I wrote a poem called “Vulture Is A Patient Bird” so be patient you will understand the full meaning of “Everything I do Is For A Reason, Everything I Say Have A Meaning”. 

   “Holly and Christine it is hard for me to forget” part of this poem is a spin off those lines… there is more to come.

 

07/12/06.

Where did yesterday go I asked, yesterday,

When morning blossomed in silence,

The old ugly stranger in the mirror I saw,

Oh’ quite he was all morning,

Then the afternoon with a strange frowning, he watched,

Then beautiful me inside spoke,

“Didn’t I told ya many times love for you is a mockery,

Of mind as your own villain you are,

Though love deep inside felt,

The reasons and rationale still unknown,

Oh’ roads once passed retraced,

Follow soulless beasts who all uncaringly smiled,

And upon nakedness of flesh sellers rested,

In the beauty of flesh and color you drowned,

Crawl back to your dark lonely den,

Where peace in silence awaits”.

 

Oh’ he shown gestures in anger,

And made noises in a language I know not,

I felt angry with my own projected self,

However, what he did next erased,

Every bad thoughts and ugliness about him from my eyes,

When he spend what he saved to feed,

Orphaned children far, far away who all know him not.

 

©RIAZAHAMMED.COM

Mo Cuishle,

    Tell me what should I do…. Just hit my head hard on some concrete wall? I can do that what benefit will it bring. Kindness mmm that is a word you should have never used. Pity… I don’t deserve it. Why I talk to you… because sometime back when twisting my emotions to figure out a character’s face I gave your face to that character and the end result was pure love I felt for you. I still feel it. Is this what you wanted to hear? I doubt it. If I know a way to erase everything from my mind well… for you I will do that. I know no way. All the things you and the world tell as my erratic or eccentric behavior, is to find a way around it. If you think love can be like smelling a flower and throwing it away, then you have a serious problem.

I understand the reaction very well…. Now at least you know the truth. Pity and Kindness are something I myself don’t give myself. Thank you very much for that. Like I said in my last post, I won’t tell ya what you should do or should not. However I decide what I should take or not to take. I reject your pity and kindness. Period.

You want to know the truth isn’t it? You read most of the
new poems I hope. It is nothing but the truth I am writing there. Mo Cuishle,
the most ironical fact is I just don’t accept the truth. That’s what the new
poems are all about. I am one man who lives in a fantasy land. Telling the
truth is the only way out of that land. It is sometime not easy to face it as
the truth is ugly. And it is ugly and dirty all these time.

  You said the magic words, you don’t care. Yes, you don’t care what I
care, that’s the truth isn’t it? When I requested comments in LonelyPoet.Com
kaboom you write in my guest book. Doesn’t it look deliberate? I warned you
about the poems. I know where I was going. The guilt is the bad roads I am back
in. If you read the poems carefully you will know what I am talking about.
 

  Now, let me tell you more truth. I have a failed relationship standing
and walking in front of me with a beautiful face. Jennifer, It is just me to
blame for that, because the attempt was too early. I think you know what I am
talking about. I don’t want to go through another emotional crisis like last
year. But something from which I thought I moved on is still lingering. I
understood that when at 2:30AM you came to my site and I woke up to see your
dedication of your life to your boyfriend. I deleted all the comments I can
from your Myspace and thought it is better to stay away than make a mess of
myself in this. That’s the truth. If I say I am so sorry… that is a mere
repetition of all the sorry I’ve told. I remember you saying once that you are
tired of this. You should be. I understand that. For me this is not a game,
this is straightening out my life. It is taking more time and effort for this
and I will get over what I must get over. Don’t worry about it.

 I am not going to
tell you what you should do. I don’t know what you can do about it all. I am no
one. So it is up to you whether you should comment in LonelyPoet.Com or not or
ever comment in my site at all. My “Yesterdays” poems initially will be like
this only but writing them will help to move on fast and I will get into more
easy subjects to write about. As for me like I said in my poem “Turning off a
light” my love life is pretty much over. I am too old and out of shape for it.
So there is no point writing about hypothetical scenarios.

 Nothing is okay so I
am not going to use those words to end it. Be good and good will come to you.
One thing is sure I will never have any bad feelings for you at all, and I will
never be able to forget all these. I once wrote, I have never taken one shot at
life. Now I think I am wrong. That shot was taken with a very bad aim.

<>Riaz Ahammed

Chaos in thoughts…. Well that will explain Tuesday…. Read.

07/11/06.

Thunders and lightning, earlier than me they woke,

Like naughty kids, started their scaring play,

Even before the lazy old sun lit up the East.

 

Under the pillow, my head I squeezed,

Though knowing the morning rituals will all be late.

 

‘Mad Tuesdays’, Tuesdays I call,

As all will end in negative, I know,

Longtime back in my teen life I tried,

To change my approach in my own way unique,

Everyone around me then praised,

Though wild it were, most of what I did,

From those days in the wild style of life I lived,

A lesson I learned about all who praised,

All those who praised where like my own shadow,

Hiding behind me when the bright light I faced,

And when in dark, left me to silence and darkness deep.

All those praises now I know,

Where mere projections of their insecurity,

My own conscience from that knowledge spoke,

“Look for the ones who spoke the truth,

Though the truth tellers, they may sound rude,

Oh’ they will remain in ones good and bad forever”.

 

No truth tellers in any day I found,

As in the obsession in what I sought,

To speak from my heart I learned,

Oh’ none seems to be around as in discipline the truth I spoke,

As all in the fantasies of liars, dwell.

 

Thoughts through the day wandered,

Those busy schedules to my life bound,

Oh’ all I did and do to find,

Balance between all I have and I don’t,

Oh’ none knows the spiritual struggle outweighs,

The struggle with a world in material I constructed,

Life slowly gathers both, unknowing to balance,

And the tug of war continues in the form of good and bad.

 

The end of the day neared and out for my walk I went,

Mind in thoughts far, far away boggled,

As in my minds eyes I saw a beautiful path well laid,

Deep from my mind a warning spoke,

“Flowers show more beauty,

Only to propagate than absorb”.

Negative thoughts in a positive mind thrived,

As I walked through country roads scaring rabbits,

Sometime I paused to listen to birds unseen,

Beautiful sounds they made and the wind blew in counter point,

Flowers of weeds peeped at a stranger walking by,

And overgrown ferns tired of themselves drooping to the ground.

 

After the walk, all energy blown up inside,

Music and poetry, Oh’ they love me more,

As all the time in embraces, good they make me feel.

 

The night kept me awake late,

In thoughtless internet chat my mind bubbled around,

Then for a moment paused I and closed my eyes,

As all thoughts of the day in a wonderful movie played,

The images of the tired ferns frame by frame played to end,

My thoughts of the day without any credits,

As mind into a deep dark valley unknown flown,

To nest and rest in a beautiful night.

 

©RIAZAHAMMED.COM

 

I am slowly moving back into my shell, which you all knowbeing alone. It is not hard for me as I am quite used to it. Well… my work is abit busy but how long is a question that came up today. By the end of the weekI will know.  Well here is what I cancome out about yesterday.

07/10/06

The morning dragged around,
As from the comforter I unrolled,
Wide awake in a micro second,
Looked around with an awe and said,
“6:15 damn it, I am late”
Around the room myself I carried,
After the monotonous circus in the toilet,
Now ready for the murder of hunger,
Which reminded me, supper is something I forgot,
Fixed my tea and cereal with mango pulp,
Turned on the T.V to hear,
My darling Diane Sawyer say, “Good Morning”
She is one, who with her prettiness and charm erase,
Her own age and make everyone else feel young,
As usual watching her I took my time,
To make my move from a poet to programmer.

Eight hours of work, Oh’ I love what I do,
Thoughts away from work always breeze through,
My brain as the week began with schedules, busy.
Lunch did not called, so I didn’t go to her either,
By four a hungry lion growled from stomach,
And at five I left the work day behind.

A face everyday I yearned to see but not anymore, welcomed,
In flesh and blood she stood in all her glory,
Now it all looks like a strange game I played wrong,
Or did fate never gave a chance between me and her, I don’t know,
Never looked at those eyes which never looked at mine,
The silence spoke some language we both misunderstood.

Back in my room I laid and brain started to drain,
But every sense only left piercing pain,
As the appropriate and inappropriate,
Through which thoughts passed,
And onto an unknown shore crashed.

The day never any different color took,
Than many empty days passed,
As nothing in life changed for any better,
Myself through the evening I pulled around,
And later relaxed upon my bed without any thought,
Then slowly sadness tried hard to crawl,
Into my mind and a smile upon my face blossomed,
And in a low voice I spoke,
“None never liked though from my heart I loved,
Though I asked why, why, why to myself,
Those answerless why questions always will haunt,
And with this sadness I feel I can only ask one more,
To my own conscience which never spoke”

For an answer I didn’t wait as silence scares,
Crowded became my room, with darkness filled,
And I felt the hand of darkness covering my eyes.

©RIAZAHAMMED.COM

I know there will be surprises at many corner with thispoem. Said that… I would like to tell you all that if you don’t understand anypart of any poem just feel free to say that. So that I can correct it and willnot make the same kinda mistake again.  Iknow some of you may find it rude from my side asking you all to comment inLonelyPoet.Com, well… that’s the way I wanted it. As for my poems it is my way.

  Now if you all havenoticed, the building of this poem started way early yesterday itself. If youdon’t understand any part of it feel free to tell me and ask me if you have anyquestions. I have said yesterday itself what happened, that anger, sleepdeprivation and the frustration of it all consumed most of the day except theWorld cup soccer finals and the evening spent with couple of people here in thehotel I stay.

  In all honestyby night time as usual I regretted my thoughts and actions. But never will Iforget yesterday.

Less facial hair and light skin color… wellthat’s the only difference between me and him hehehe. If someone shows my pictureand tell him what I said pssst he may violently kick your butts.  I love the peace upon his face.

07/09/06.

Like a Lilly blossoming the day around me spread,
“O starless dark night goodbye” I said.

Joined billions of people to watch the final,
Of world cup soccer and wonderful it was,
Zidane one of the all time great, his temper he lost,
Though first I thought what he did was right,
Still a wrong is a wrong no matter what.

Thoughts back and forth they traveled,
Even though through my mistakes a darling she became,
Felt the anger after late night I awoke,
To the presence of her in my poetrybox,
Found no word from her but a dedication,
Dedication of a lifetime to another soul,
Mistake it maybe from her, to enter my domain,
Still felt anger, sadness and frustration unknown.

I, I, I Oh’ how many times that one letter word I said,
Bye, bye, bye my happiness said, every time I said “I”,
I sat in a corner of a couch thinking,
Only to know that my existence is not just for me,
But spread far beyond my own imagination.
Though never to anything my life I dedicated,
My thoughts spoke louder than any rationale I know,
Everything material to a point of time belongs,
Which we use and throw away,
Though God remains unimaginable,
Life belongs to him the One who gave,
The soul a cloak of flesh and blood,
And let me walk upon this piece of road I call “My Time”.

By the time I found peace with myself in regrets and prayers,
Darkness filled every corner I know,
Oh’ the moon looked almost full,
And I looked up to a sky with twinkling stars filled,
I walked slowly to my bed and to sleep,
Waking up a little later and I prayed,
“Oh’ never did a prayer of mine for me was answered O God,
She, who wished luck for me and the one she love,
Bless those souls with every good in material and spirit,
As my soul filled with the praise of yours O God,
For letting me thrive in this piece of time, that fills every bit of me,
Oh’ what more blessing of yours should I seek, O God,
But for those who always wish good for me.”

By then I know I cannot move anymore,
As to the rest of the night belonged my peace.

©RIAZAHAMMED.COM

I made a post earlier today saying the worst people can doto me. Well… I am not going to repeat myself here. But I will not forget thistime. I am frustrated, angry, and sleep deprived. Grrrrrrrr…. I am one man whowill keep my promise. I am one man whose blessings will never work. I am oneman whose curses always work. Don’t do things to get a curse from me. Believeme, it always works.

  Another thing,I don’t know how many times I told that you cannot comment in here for any ofmy new poems and only if one comments in LonelyPoet.Com you will get a commentin your site. Well… here again posting in my guestbook will not help at all.Once again if you want my comment, you must comment in LonelyPoet.Com. Period.

07/08/06.

The rays of the summer morning crept,
Through the curtains upon my face,
Another summer morning woke,
After a night of dark blank sleep.

Scattered clouds all around lingered,
Trying sometime hard to cover the scorching sun,
A lost migrating bird from branch to branch bumped,
Unknowing what song to sing.

Oh’ sing O bird, sing in the high note,
The grass is fresh and green,
The time ripened for you to be who you are,
Left alone you may be, will leave all alone you will.

Drag no thoughts to your mind O bird,
For the poison of love may freeze and kill,
Nothing is inevitable you know,
And none survives themselves no more.

Fly away after your wings get their rest,
There is nothing that stands permanent,
And none can wait for the love of love,
Love is a fog that can distract and blind your ways.

I watched the bird all day in some waiting, unrealistic,
Wanted to hear, wanted to know, what a mind may think,
The inevitable happened, left alone, in silence and dark,
And fell asleep seeing the clock blinking 1:30AM.

©RIAZAHAMMED.COM

The worst crime anyone can ever do to me is making me wait.That crime was done many times by many especially yesterday. Another crime that can be done is this.I only sleep about four hours a day. Waking me up for telling me nothing or tohear them say something I am not at all interested to hear is the second one.Well… that was done very well last night.

  I will post a poem alater today.