Yesterday’s poem is named as “Eyes Of Lika”. Who is Lika? I only saw her over the internet. This is what happened. One of my internet friends in Russia introduced me to a website after I told him I am bored last week. I don’t think it is a good idea to disclose the site address to such a young crowd. It is a site where one can find pictures and videos of naked Russian girls. I told Nicholai I am not interested in those. He told me that I will be able to chat with those girls. I stayed and he was right, there are times when I can chat with some of those girls. Those girls only take off their clothes and chat with you they won’t do anything else. If one ask them even to touch themselves, one will get kicked out of the site by administrators. Some may dance, some speak through a microphone, some sing. In a way it is a virtual strip club. I am a total misfit there as I tell them “Hey keep your clothes on, chat with us”, which will drive other guys there crazy as those guys are there only to see the nakedness.
Couple of days back I met Lika, one of the models there. She is very thin but she do have amazing eyes. I went back yesterday as through her thick accent and broken English she told she will be there yesterday. The following poem ends with what happened with Lika. During the chat I only wrote this “Hey Lika, If you held my hands why I need my eyes, As through your eyes I see heaven, As heaven lies in your eyes” She told me that she liked it and I should write more about her. This poem is written in the last two days. I elaborated on what I wrote in the chat room. Lika herself may not see this poem, even if she sees this poem I don’t think she will understand what it means as from what I know, her knowledge of English is limited.
This post and poem may give many of you a very bad impression of me. So be it… I never claimed be a good man at all, even though at the end of the day yesterday I felt that there still remains some good in me.
Read.
07/20/06-Eyes Of Lika.
Mind grabbed some serenity from a bright morn,
And moved through a day lived in some promises unknown.
The drought up from heavens felt,
Upon the living, the dead and the living dead,
Oh’ why did people for more sun prayed,
When old man winter performed the dirty dance with fall.
As the hot day passed me by,
My thoughts, stale they are in their hunt,
For finding reasons, for the chaos in my mind I feel.
Oh’ stale remains a heart unloved,
And I once more succumbed to the virtual world,
Paths well paved, doors well decorated,
Oh’ what a world I walked into,
I looked at the model who welcomed,
In politeness of an enchantress,
Dreaming I am not as for my request she shown close,
Eyes unseen in my life of nearly four decades,
Took off all her clothes and smiled,
To write a poem about her she asked,
Everyone expected me to write,
About the beautiful naked body in front of me I saw,
But those serene eyes that glowed and held,
The beauty of her soul that erased,
Everything material through her spiritual charm,
And I wrote my verse with my eyes upon her eyes fixed,
“You hold me with nakedness of beauty perfect,
Five senses I have all in union,
Sings to my mind about the soul they see,
Through the nakedness of your eyes,
Not the nakedness of the body you show,
In the grip on my mind with your eyes you show,
Heaven of a kind poetically unimaginable,
As through those eyes the doors of heavens opens,
Where such a perfect soul roam flawless,
And shows the living upon this earth,
The heaven you are and the heaven in they will be”.
Lika read those lines and turned,
She danced, spoke and sung,
But my eyes never missed those eyes filled,
With some subdued feelings that erased,
Every bit of shyness from her mind,
Wonderful beauty she sure is,
Sexy and charming with her nakedness,
The flawless soul is what this poet saw,
And flawless remained the poet in his time with her.
I sat upon the couch motionless and felt,
That good old self, deep inside me,
Whom I thought died and buried away a long time back.
With a sigh of relief once more Lika I thanked,
And to her request, promised I to write more, before I left,
Even when the tiredness of the day and sleep gnawed,
My mind and body mercilessly,
Those eyes to my minds-eye still spoke,
The language of the heart I understand,
With a promise to write more the poet too slept.
©RIAZAHAMMED.COM