This is a fantastic day, the Arctic blast is tap dancing around me. I am not a big fan of tap dancing still the tap dancing from North, yeah I can live with that. Tomorrow is going to get more colder in my mother tongue they say “Rudra Thandavam” it means the dance in Anger and Vengeance. Maybe what we are going to feel tomorrow is that kinda dance. I love cold, snow, ice and everything of winter. Today I was driving around in the cold by late afternoon I understood, I am an expert driver on icy roads but most others are not. So I got back home. Hope everyone is trying to stay warm this weekend. Enjoy the cold.
This poem is not a happy poem. For not a happy reason I thought of shutting down this PoetryBox. I am not going to go into the details of that. At that time I wrote this poem. It kinda gives the essence of the reasons. Well as I have decided not to shutdown the site I kept this poem away. I am not going to shutdown and go away from here. But the poem in its essence is very real. Sorry everyone on a cold winter day I only have more cold to give you all.
The Essence Of A Lover’s Life.
Sunday came and Sunday left,
He wished the sky were blue and air more warm,
He wished his love where in her arms,
But further and further form him she too left.
Wishes were all good, bad and many were just to be dreamt,
One way or the other from bad to just another dreamer he went,
A mad man talking to himself in the eyes of the world,
As so much about her love to himself he told.
The sleep in love brought the dream,
Then the dream through every corner of life weaved,
A drag net that gathered every bit of life and filled,
Love for her in way humanity unknown.
The wishes were like glaciers moved,
Eyes can’t see, legs can’t feel, no noise heard,
Love indeed is an unseen, unheard, untouched feeling,
Uninvited into him from all around consumed.
Unreal, impossible Oh many words from her he heard,
Mind like horses in a stable back and forth swayed,
As through every means love for her to erase he tried,
Ah’ the pain of the unloved he himself forget to forgive.
All he left, the pain still he felt and to erase he talked,
Talked again and again about all that came and gone,
To a wild world that danced around she too joined,
Unknowing, hearing his talks to erase his pain, to forget all, she too told.
A corner unknown, a way unknown he searched,
To go far, far away, far away from her he decided,
Oh’ then a drop of tear from the page he wrote erased,
The word love he wrote with the essence of his life, filled with her face.
©RIAZAHAMMED.COM. 2009 All Rights Reserved.
Sir lonely, its lovely. 🙂
Keep it coming! I know Im not on here often to tell you that I enjoy your work, but here I am, reading and addicted. 🙂
@LauraChristine83 – Thank you very much…. It is okay not to be here as I know you are busy otherwise.
thanks for the comment.
this is a beautiful poem – the third stanza actually brought me much warmth to counter the cold here
@vincida – Thank you very much… I am glad that my words brought you some warmth.
1. You’re not allowed to leave here (says me!)… although I totally understand wanting to. I’ve been going back and forth on that myself for almost a whole year now. But I’m nowhere near as talented as you, my friend. You’re needed.
2. This poem didn’t leave me feeling cold at all. It was warm and beautiful, very soulful.
Gorgeous poetry. ♥
@SamsPeeps – Thanks a lot for your support… I appreciate it.
@petitenoirtenue – Thank you very much
The inclusion of base studs in the replica handbags enables you to take the weight off your feet while you lounge on a floor or any other flat exterior and not have to worry about the designer louis vuitton handbags toppling over. The second design in the collection is called the Palermo PM and happens to be one of the fresh and striking louis vuitton bags this season. lv is considered to be extremely brilliant for traveling purposes.