Month: September 2006

Mo Cuishle…
E-mails are wonderful to read… Read.

Riaz Ahammed

Mo Cuishle,
    Is it okay if I give you a gift certificate from Amazon? You can by my book…
Let me know.. and give me an email address where I can send the gift certificate.

Riaz Ahammed

Mo Cuishle,

    How are you doing?
I hope you are fine…. Don’t feel bad about me leaving mile long comments in
your site. If that affected you I am so sorry about that. I think it did as I have
heard an inner voice crying. No matter what it is, may it go away and a smile
upon your face, I wish to see…

  A happy day for me…
after a turbulent start…. It is a long story… but the happy part is…. You might
have seen it… my book is out now… I didn’t check my mail on Friday as the mail
was there from the publisher, I slept at work, sitting on a chair as things
gone a bit wild at work.

<>  Well… I hope you are
driving around Wisconsin country side haha…
You know Sam… in truth there is nothing out there that can stop one from being
happy.
An interesting mail I
received in my MySpace… not a surprise for me… Randa sent a mail apologizing to
me… nice to know that you guys are back together now and she is clean.

  Hey I just got
alerted that you are in my site. haha…

Thank you for the willingness to order a copy….

Riaz Ahammed

If some noticed what I am currently reading  they will know whatthis post is about…The book Age Of Survival my collection of poemsare available in all major  online book outlets. 
                                       Click here to buy at Amazon
                                         Click here to buy at Buy.Com
                                        Click here to buy at Barnes & Nobles
                                        Click here to buy at Booksamillion

August 25^th 2006 Friday, a day I was still fuming after a night filled with anger. Then the day came to a different climax. Read this poem, you will know what it was all about. There are part of this poem where I used exactly what I spoke and others spoke. So it may not go with the flow very well. But for the subject of this poem, I think it is a day I wish I must live everyday and I will.

                                                                 

08/25/06.

 

The sky dark and with clouds, scattered,

Cutting their edges to bleed,

The sun rays of the first phase of morn came,

Those violent serpents were defeated,

And by the fair and bright light consumed,

That pulled the chariot of the sun arriving.

 

The drama of the morning everyday repeats,

The same theme played in a different way,

As nature welcome the sun in its own way,

The dynamics of which part of it all, we all are.

 

Friday panics Oh’ none to me came,

As in frustration of the gone by day I spent,

Daytime uttering no words, but in mind murmuring,

Some prayers, to console the angry heart.

 

Evening, life first, her ugly face shown,

When a girl I like kissed another man,

Then life, her dirty face shown,

When rain lashed and most people left,

Then life shown, the beautiful face of Rose,

She said “Garcias” when for her the door I opened,

“I don’t speak that language, I am from India” Said I,

Leaning on to me she asked,

“What language you speak?”

“Malayalam, the language of my mother land” Said I,

Her hands I shook and said “I am Riaz”,

“I am Rose” the blushing girl said and continued,

“See both our names start with ‘R’”,

By then I know, drunk to her toe, she was,

There for the taking, ready to be taken,

Yearning for a touch, erotic she stood,

Even the bystanders said, “Go for it man”

The she asked “What the name of that language again?”

“Malayalam” said I, then remembered I,

Earlier that day said I the same, to a girl who care,

Me as a friend and see me as man of good,

Then my soul to me told,

“You shouldn’t do this, help her”,

To her car I walked Rose to her waiting friend,

Another girl of beauty excruciating,

“Nice to meet you Riaz” said Rose while on to the seat falling,

Then turned she and at my eyes she looked,

In the street lights, blood filled veins of her blue eyes I saw,

But through those eyes beautiful, more I saw,

The thanking un-intoxicated soul of a beautiful girl.

 

I walked away with a feeling good,

Of a deed my consciousness said, “good”.

 

Back on my bed when falling prey to sleep,

To myself I said, “Didn’t I do a lot of good,

In simplicity possible? Oh’ how many more to do?”.

 

And every time I do a deed good,

One night of sleep with peace of mind I gain,

The only reward I always look for.

 

©RIAZAHAMMED.COM

“If you want to comment on my poems please visit and post your comments in LonelyPoet.Com all the poems that are posted in this site will be there in LonelyPoet.Com“.