A weekend 08/26/06 a gloomy day, most of the time I like gloomy days. But mmm may be I am not ready yet to explode into Fall and Winter. Wait and see.
The book Age Of Survival my collection of poems is 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
08/26/06.
Clouds and the autumn gloom denied.
The wonders of the day behind the clouds,
Oh’ my daily routines broke,
As morning left me to thoughts of despair,
My sadness event the clouds felt,
And their cold tears showered.
Oh’ on a weekend, Oh’ why the gloom linger,
What wrong the people of the world did?
O they all did no wrong
And they all too in the gloom lived, smile-less.
From the despair of the morning gloom,
My mind the role of a phoenix bird took,
Gathering the ashes left by morning fire,
And all through the day to my conscience he spoke,
Which in essence here I write;
“Didn’t we walked in the paths so wrong?
Didn’t we flew in dreams that shouldn’t have seen?
Oh’ where is the whisperer in you conscience?
That only left gloom all around and in you too.
A woman’s mind touched you not,
Neither you did touched any woman at all,
But the silhouettes you drew upon me cried,
Losing their way in pursuits meaningless,
In me where belief, truth and passions pure,
You imprinted, from well loved examples, through the ages.
Now when into the middle-ages stepping,
Where nothing to look back to,
Oh’ every step into darkness laid, slipping,
And today or tomorrow the inevitable will happen,
The fall of the bubbled up character.
Then together we must gather,
This body as a prison for us given,
And to life so perfect we will guide,
Never to go down with the fall,
But to stand up and walk again,
As true as the precious waiting,
Unknown to us but to the character perfect left in us.
Oh’ time and distance to us matters not,
So waiting is a word for us meaningless,
Let us dream about that life so perfect,
With another conscience and mind with love filled,
For us and her material heart beat in illusions we hear.
So, near to us, so far away from this body.”
Oh’ the mind of mine in insanity spoke,
And I shut him up with laughs of mine,
Intoxicated I am not, insane a bit,
But all in ways so wonderful.
The night arrived to me, mind and conscience unknown,
When another preaching my mind started,
My material ears I shut and shut my conscious mind,
To argue in soliloquy in my sub-conscious,
As material being of mine in tiredness fell asleep.
©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“.