30th July 2006 this day went through a kinda recuperating from within. There were lot of thoughts and many times I talked aloud. It was that intense. FYI… when I say I am talking to myself it means that I am not sure about something I am writing. None of these poems have anything to do with those talks. Those talks are about some other poems I am working on. There are two chapters of a long poem I started writing more than a year back. I did not finished the last two chapters it is still in a first draft stage with part of that first draft only in my mind. “Tess Of The D’Urbervilles” last week I took it to finish it. Because it is inevitable that I should finish that poem. I am also writing some other poems. In between I am working on the final version of the book before it goes to print. I have a job too that pays for all these. Then my extra curricular activities. Want to see a busy man hehehe. Scroll down and see my pictures. Summer sucks big time. No doubt about it.
Bring me fall and the colors,
Bring me cold rain that crackles,
The dead leaves happy to rot to soil,
Then bring me the whiteness of the Angels,
Who with their cold palms wipe away,
Remaining days of this year and bless,
The world with the brightness of a new year.
Haha that came out instantly… I am getting good at this.
07/30/06.
The clock showed two in the afternoon and I heard,
Cars rumbling outside and T.V still chattering,
“Glory to you God” I said, while out of my bed rolled.
Oh what a dreamless night and day passed,
The sun held the summer day and danced tirelessly,
This day artists and photographers will love,
But “burned, I don’t want to be” the poet reasoned.
Clarity in the material life has become a myth,
Misguided intuitions only paved paths,
To the world of the lords of negativity.
Oh’ why my life go through dirty tracks,
Didn’t I lay my footsteps upon a saintly path?
Tired, down I laid, after longs hours of arguments,
With oneself, in the end none won.
In the ongoing battles win I will,
Declared I in a tone so desperate,
But somewhere in my voice hidden,
Was a determined cry of a soul that seek,
Purity of a life I left in a dream unfulfilled.
The dear old stars through the window I see,
Lifetimes they passed, their age with my eyes, I see not,
Everything done for a reason, everything said, with a meaning,
But these days my own actions and words, misunderstood,
So alone another night upon this bed I lie,
For the darkness to creep into the senses of mine.
©RIAZAHAMMED.COM
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