Home Of The LonelyPoet

Some of my latest posts are huge. There are some of my favorite xangans
who have little or no time to read and comment on a big intro and a
long poem, probably they will be cursing me now. So last night I wrote
this poem. It is for all and I hope all will be able to enjoy this poem
on a great weekend.

My Budding Rose.

The wind slowly crept up from west,
The drizzles blessed the lands,
Months of waiting to see a leaf, over,
But the thorns still strong to leave a scar, deep.

Bright sun and the misty morns,
They live around you and for you my budding rose,
And waved in to your side are my silly verses,
The slow but steady awakening of you I watch.

The stem that holds you dear,
Defending with scary thorns all over,
The wind, land and drizzle defines you well,
I am still waiting to watch you blossom.

The beauty of a flower blossoming,
Is in the steady opening of the petals,
Upon which even the coldest dew melts,
I am still waiting for you to spread your charm.

With care and love I can only help,
For you to grow in your own color and scent,
Once blossomed in full the world will enjoy,
Every bit of your color, texture and scent.

In surety I can tell, none will feel or see,
The warmth of the deep soul of yours,
The charm of the color of yours,
The scent that fills every bit of the soul,
Like I feel through every sense of mine,
The heart and soul of yours, my budding rose.

  Seven years ago, I was working in Ft.Lauderdale, Florida when
my manager told me to make a website for my poems. I made my first site
without much knowledge in FortuneCity.Com. Initially I called it “The
Inspirations Of Riaz Poet”. Later I registered a domain calling it
‘LonelyPoet.Com’ and moved the first 15 poem into that site. I was
sitting in the HomeStead Village Suite. At that time I thought that
this should some day become my first collection of poems. I gave myself
2 years to write 100 poems. I never gave a thought about the days to
come. Three days later I evacuated from my suite because of hurricane
George and went to Key West. For some reasons unknown, I told myself
what’s to come will be as turbulent as this hurricane. The hurricane
did not hit Ft.Lauderdale, it took a turn and hit Key West. That
might’ve been a warning that I will not be able to run forever from
fate.

  If I am going to tell everything about the nearly 8 years of
life here in America then it will take a whole book probably to tell it
all. Recently while talking to my best friend Deepak Prabhakar on the
phone I told “I have seen every bit of life in every possible
combination in the last 7 years. Feels like 5 lifetimes passed me by” I
went from place to place connected to my software consulting work.
First came to Milwaukee, that trip from India itself had most weird and
funny scenarios. Then from Milwaukee to Florida, then back to
Milwaukee, Got transferred to Indiana, then back to Milwaukee, then to
New York/New Jersey, back to Milwaukee, moved to Kansas, then to San
Francisco, then back to Kansas, then to Milwaukee again, then went back
to Kansas, from there to Texas, from Texas to Virginia, Now In upstate
New York. In all these places I lived and worked for at least 2 months.
. It was a plight I would not have taken if I’ve known before. But now
I remember what I told three days after I made my site “As turbulent as
this hurricane” and it was.

   The promise of 100 poems in two years did not happen.
Last night I made the final changes into the 100th poem sitting in a
similar suite. All paid by the company. It gives me a feeling that a
cycle is over. Yes, seven years, lot of dates, mad love, 100 poems (101
if adding the last one which is ‘Tess Of The D’Urbervilles’ which is
not done yet) and a lot of weird events I am still standing haha.

  Most of my poems are about my romantic failures, hopes and
dreams. The words hopes and dreams are used extensively in my poems.
Well real love is still in “hopes and dreams” for me. Therefore, I
don’t know if I ever fall in love with any girl. It may take a good
effort from any woman to get me out of this ‘Lonely’ shell. I don’t
expect it to happen at all. I am getting too old for running after
women. Haha.

  If I say, the reasons are unknown for writing the following
poem it will be a big lie. However, I just don’t think it is
appropriate for me to tell it now. But I hope someday I will write
about it. Love is something I can write about for volumes may be never
feel in real. I promise you all that my writing don’t end here. It is
an end of an era for me and a turning point for my website,
LonelyPoet.Com.
That’s all.

  Enjoy the poem.

An Angelic Incarnation.

All the time I lived for you,
All the dreams I’ve seen about you,
Wherever you are my dear,
All these days I was in the search,
Maybe can’t be said, as doubt always prevails,
But to the dream I always wish to see,
Don’t have any to say.

Oh’ I only wished to see that dream,
Every dreamer always dream to see,
But tongue twisted I lived,
When thought about the fulfillment.

In the depths of my mind I caressed,
A feeling embedded with a reality,
But the Angels that guarded that dream,
Burned away in the flame of my lost love,
And I was left astray,
With a hollow heart that lived,
In the mourning of a pathetic loser.

I looked around and tried to feel,
But fell and awaken nothing but obsession,
Filling my mind, threatening all minds away,
And like a gathering storm in winter,
Love outgrew in my mind and soul.

Winter has its own beauty,
With none out there to enjoy,
The soul and body was already frozen,
When everything to a dream got bound,
Repeatedly seen with different faces filling,
Life in all perfections and imperfections,
The reality of the dream never ever felt,
The dreams grown like a Banyan tree,
A life within a life, but a life unlived.

The spring brought warmth and colors,
But none of the colors seen,
By a heart in despair,
Then you came with summer,
Like that evening rain with warmth,
Waking every corner of my soul,
Through those eyes in sparkle,
Taking me in the awe of flight,
Of imaginations of unknown magnificence,
The frozen heart of mine, melted,
In the warmth of the love of yours.
Luxurious in being every moment’s blessing,
Unlocking the mystery of my unloved heart,
Everything real in me became blessed,
Everything unreal became fulfilled.

Through the bright days and sleepless nights,
The presence of the Angles I tried to feel,
Who all melted away in the lost love of mine,
But never felt in any senses of mine,
Even after the wishful prayers of mine.

The eve of the fall came and went,
The freeze came back with fury,
Love of yours have out grown every seasons sway,
Then in your everlasting presence I understood,
There were no guardian Angels for my love,
They were all metaphors of your arrival I felt,
In the awe of the love that surrounded me,
The well said lost love was a nightmare passing,
The unreal dream an illusion of my unwell mind.

Like the early morn spring sun melts the mist,
You with your love blown away the nightmares,
With your care my illusions disappeared,
As for each of them you being the reality,
Oh’ to the horizons never need to look,
For lucky stars and unseen guardian Angels,
As every hope and dream you took away,
And made my mind free for you in fulfillment.

This is the last poem in a chapter I wrote called
“She”. Six years ago, I thought I would never be able to close that
chapter. To every word of ‘move on’ from my friends and family, I asked
“To what?” I’ve dated couple of other girls well they were all just
passing faces. I wrote this poem during a flight to St.Louis in 2001 on
my way to San Francisco
and I only modified it a bit in wording today when I finally closed the
chapter. It was not a moment’s decision to close it and “move on”. It
was a gradual process and I buried a dream and all my hopes, wishes and
everything else I constructed as a bubble around me forever. Now there
is hope, there is a dream, and I am in the middle of it. The hope and
dream are out there they still haven’t got into me yet completely.  Haha, may be I will write a poem with this idea later.

  
This also means another thing, “Age Of Survival” That’s what I call my
poetry collection, is over. There is this other poem I need to release.
I will do that later this week. Well to be honest with you, I did not
survived in the way I wanted it to be. I failed again and again. I am
not depressed. I was, but I got over it long time back. I will never be
depressed again. I may become sad and I am used to it, as dreams
sometime remain as is when life squeezes from every corner. 

 By the end of this week you will see this
other poem I talked about earlier and then I don’t know when, may be by
the end of the Thanks Giving weekend you will see the first part of the
final versions of ‘Tess Of The D’Urbervilles’ here in Xanga.Com
PoetryBox itself. That will be over in eight days. Then… I just don’t
know…

Your Answer. 

The evening went away,
With no murmur of hope,
Then the chill of darkness swayed,
Every corner of the loving heart.
From the shadows of the day,
Searched a long lost soul,
In faith, belief and reasons known,
Only to the heart defeated.

Oh’ how many pretty faces I’ve seen,
Without giving me a thought, passed me by,
Thoughtless I am in the rush
Of lost passions in you,
Passions too left me in loneliness.

Never to the heart I spoke,
Only sweetness of love I felt,
In every bit of life of mine,
In the spring time when you flowered,
Imaginations to the truth of reality.

Some days those buried feelings sprout,
With a new days freshness,
But bury at the end of the day,
Like that fat old sun,
Those are moments of achievements I cherish,
Now with the tit bits I’ve got, contented,
As the greatest achievement was lost,
In your answer that said ‘No’.

Earlier this morning I posted this poem in LonelyPoet.Org.

Some of you may be Christian, Some Jewish, Some
Buddhist, Or Atheist. I don’t care what you believe or not. I will not
try to impose my belief upon anyone through my posts, comments or even
the intros like this. I write this here because there is the mention of
God in this intro and I don’t want anyone to believe that I am trying
to impose what I believe on you or just offended by the mention of God
in here.

This is a poem I started writing in June 2005. I abandoned
it in between and kinda took some ideas from this poem and wrote other
poems that now don’t even look anything like the idea I took from this
poem. I started working on the idea when I went to India in May 2005 in
Kochi, where years back I had the wildest rides or the most hypocritcal
life any man I know ever lived. That life was only part of my life, I
thank God in giving me the oppurtunity to live life in my way and walk
paths I later realized are not for someone like me. The greatest
achievement was the understanding of the forgiveness of God Almighty.

That
is the thought process that went into this poem. I first worked about
for four days on this poem and later left it. I thought I may never get
back to it and started pulling out some portion of it to compose couple
of other poems.

Last night I felt left out. I am not going into
the details of it. At that time I pulled out from my archives this poem
and added the last stanza.

Walking Back To A Dead End

Walking by the road, I see,
No crowds or any motors high speeding.
The wonderful city is yet to burst,
Into the day being born,
On the lap of our nearby star.
Mongrels lying tired in deep sleep,
After evening scavenging,
And night time brawls in dust covered alleys,
Every step of mine so carefully laid,
Upon the road still warm,
From the wrath of the dead day gone by.

The cool breeze from the west flowing,
Deep into the alleys and pausing my thoughts,
The weary wind brings a hope for the day coming,
And the birds waking and yawing their squeaks,
Or are these chanting morning prayers,
Of creatures seeking forgiveness,
For the merciless minds of men,
And the cunning lust of women?

Into the west I looked and seen,
Darkness fading away,
The magnificence of the sun so bright,
Burying all stars and planets.
How many hands still will be lucky?
And how many lose their lives?
When the lord of the day buries himself away.

I could only walk into the concrete jungle,
Understanding the limitations of my care,
Where I once lived with every means,
Of pleasures material life can give.
Though regrets never touched my thoughts
Sometimes I heard the cry of my spiritual soul,
Uncared, misunderstood and abandoned,
Like a wandering orphan in this jungle.

Oh’ barefooted I am in my walks,
Legs don’t feel the pain,
Ears don’t hear any noise,
I can’t see the horizons anymore,
And I am not tired at all.
As I know the spiritual soul is carrying,
Me along this road where none recognize,
My face or my voice,
But merciless and cunning away they all walk.
Into oblivion with the screaming material side of me.

Are my days over or not?
A question that haunts me every moment,
But through this day I am carried away,
Through new roads and unknown faces,
From one side of life to the another,
The dreams are over and imaginations matured,
Nothing is over my soul said,
As I take another step of my own,
My own soul spoke another time,
“Those dark days still haunt,
The other side that left you astray,
Do not bury the half of you,
In that dark past but should raise,
Guiding through these new alleys,
Into your own self with love and for love.”

I turned around and back to alleys walked,
Where I heard the cry of my material soul,
As in those screams embedded are,
The whispers of my lost passions,
Even in the lusty wild rides I remembered,
To steal the glows in some eyes,
Now I realize in one of those hearts embedded are,
The spiritual completion of us.

A tiring day that’s all I can say about today. I was on and off that’s
the way it went with internet. Hehehe. I am loving this lifestyle. I
get free breakfast, free dinner for four days a week. My company pays
me about $50 everyday for food. The funny part to all these is I am on
a subway diet haha. Most of the $50 is a saving. The company also pays
the hotel bill, parking and even laundry money. Isn’t that cool?
Everyday a pretty girl comes in and cleans my suite spotless. That’s
the best part I like, because in the matter of cleanliness I am ‘Monk’
haha. God bless these people. Haha.

 I didn’t write a
single line these two days. I was sleeping in the morning. Earlier
today I did posted a poem in LonelyPoet.Org. I am posting it here as I
know my Xanga family have serious issues with most of my other sites.
That’s Okay, I don’t care who goes in there and reads my postings
there. I am the “Lonely” Poet isn’t it?

  This poem took
its course through time, that’s what I say about it. It was written
during a birthday party in Kansas in 2002. Afterwards I thought I will
add some more lines to this poem. The weird thing is I might’ve taken
this for modifying this poem may be a hundred times. But I couldn’t add
even one line. In the end today morning I modified one line. Here it is.

Bridges.

The wind has left the town,
The light hidden from view,
Of minds in colorless dreams,
Silence lingers like a parasite,
Nothing goes deep but slowly moves,
As if in fear of being chained to souls,
And many uncared souls lost,
In the fantasy of the unloved.

Freedom is the curse of the loving heart,
Fear is the curse of the lonely heart,
There are no more ways ahead,
Only gulfs between islands,
In the fragile world of minds,
Where a look or word unpleasant,
Widens the gulfs to unconquerable oceans.

How many more bridges I need to build?
How many of them burned behind?

{UPDATE Nov, 11, 2005. I am going to relax a bit today. So forgive me for not commenting again. By the time I updated LonelyPoet.Org
about what I am doing I am feeling sleepy, haha. If interested visit
the link and read that post. Well… I just wanted to tell everyone.
Have a wonderful weekend.}

A short work week that consumed me
almost entirely, but there were those little break times which enjoyed
haha. Work is good, at least I can still write programs in  COBOL
than creating designs and specifications for some JAVA guy. Well the
second one pays more money. Hehehe.

I wrote this poem when I was
in Miami, in frustration about a relationship that took a different
turn than I expected. I had kinda romantic feelings to a lady which I
kept in my mind but did not told her. We were friendly and that part of
us grown well. In the end my procrastination paid the price and she
moved on to another guy. At that time I realized that the
procrastination really was good as she was using me all the time as a
“replacement friend”.

Now ‘replacement friend’ is a phrase I
recently read in a post written by Sam in her site. At that time I
remembered about this poem I wrote about seven years back. After some
really weird searching I found the poem in my LonelyPoet.Com site
itself as unnamed.
Here it is.

Thoughts About Untold Love.

Every day waking up in surprise,
That another day own my step ahead,
Most of the days went by in the wrath,
Of the untiring little star nearby,
And evenings were filled,
With the grave dance of the thunderstorms.

Most days thoughts about love never woke up,
But bury deep in mind asleep,
With my untold love searching unseen dreams,
Some days when my untold love wake up and weeps,
Don’t know how long will I say,
“What can a helpless poet do?”
Oh’ do I deserve to wipe those tears,
Or am I destined to drown in my fears,
Or just open my hands begging,
For some affection from some heart unknown.

Through the fading night into my eyes looks,
The crescent moon like a smiley face,
May be, even the nature is in a mockery mood,
Or just loving me to help me pass,
Another day that owns a step from my past.

The red sun wakes up in hurry,
So the entire life around,
I vowed my love once more,
And the thoughts about love fell back to sleep,
When alone I step into the day.

Job, room, job and room haha what a life. I am so sorry to many in not
commenting on their sites. My sincere apologies to all of you. I will
be free by the end of the day tomorrow as it is a short week. Because
of the short week job kinda tightened up on my neck. Said that, I still
managed to pull one old poem and gave a revision to it. This poem was
never posted anywhere and I kinda totally forgot about it. Last night
before sleeping when I was looking in my archive folder I found it. I
wrote it way back in 2000. I may later modify it. But for the time
being it is still readable. This one is from the short poems group for
those who have only little time to read. They know who they are, haha.
Here it is.

Curses.

Hopes, Wishes, Dreams and everything else in it,
They all live their moment and die away,
Memories about the reasons for all,
Make them all curses, haunting mind, day and night.
In this wilderness of the world,
Compassion slaves the mind,
And loses its meaning,
As every feeling attaches to a wish,
That in turn weaves a dream,
Which blooms hopes on hopes,
And affection sprouting out of attachments.

The thoughts of lost attachments lingers on,
What keeps it alive is a mind boggling mystery,
As most of them existed in those curses,
Into this life, only one more curse I could construct,
When from the depths of my heart I feel,
A dream filled with hopes and wish being weaved,
By the love of mine for you.

A very hectic day to begin with, then it slowed down. This whole
week is going to be up and down. This is a short week. Friday is
holiday for us, so a lot things need to be done before that.

Here is a poem I wrote as a first draft and kinda thought that it
did not connected internally at all. I wrote the first draft after a
drive from Overland Park, KS to Milwaukee in 2002. I wrote two poems in
that trip. This is one of them. The other one I don’t even know where
it is.haha. There are parts I first thought I should write but I left
it to rot away. That is why I took this much long to get back to it.

 At that time, I broke up with a girl because of a difference
in belief. I am a Muslim and she was an Atheist. I don’t mind what
kinda religious belief or unbelief one has. I consider belief as matter
of choice of the individual. Like I said in my poem “To My Bride” “

“By the love you gave, I swear,
To preserve the sanctity of the individual in you. “

 I made it very clear to her too. But she wanted me to leave my
belief altogether. For the first time in my life, anyone told that to
me. I tolerated her for more than 6 months and eventually told her good
bye. The middle portion of the poem was written with that in mind. It
is different from the actual situation but still it is about the
lessons I learned from it all.

The Drive.

Through the never ending roads, driving,
In the high speed traffic and the passing scenes,
Of towns and villages with people filled,
The music of my liking, the radio and CD changer plays,
The loud noise and the rhythm always speaks
Something more than the lyrics and music.
All those I read and wrote in between I recollect,
That silences the roaring rock.
But part of mind is always agile,
To keep me right on lane, safe.

Oh’ Years of this vagabond taught,
The link between lives is in the attachment.
That connects with affection filled,
And disconnects in the lack of it.
Never had I forgotten the faces passed me by,
Those who agreed and those who disagreed,
Those who protested aloud,
And those who walked away in silence,
And the many paths I ventured to adjust,
With everyone in one or the other way,
In the many types of relationships,
To ease it all a lesson learned,
To cope with the disagreement of others,
And to live with disagreement of mine to others.

With thoughts about lessons learned,
The plight of mine from phase to phase moves,
The passing scenes sometimes turns vivid,
Filling empty mind with imaginations,
Into which deep I fall,
And bring all those felt in my soliloquy
That popup a line or two for me to write.
Sometime I stop and write it down,
Most of the time aloud I say,
And into the folds of my heart I write,
And through the dark dry road away I drive,
Saying a prayer for the nearest living,
As a thankful deed, the only one I could do.
At that time I always feel,
Mind still agile but fragile,
As loneliness is always where I drive it to.

Hey all who wished me good luck in finding the phone. I found it. Its
hard to lose any phone. It will be harder to lose this one.

I am indebted to you all for the well wishes. Here again one wish stood
out better than everyone read what Kekeway_Arinya_Mekae said.. “My Luck
goes out to you. ” It worked again.  Thanks again Sam. You are
indeed my Mo Cushle and of course whoever feels your presense in real
are the lucky blessed ones.
  I don’t have a poem as I am a little busy with a small move from
one hotel to another. I may have something later tonight but I am not
sure when I will be back tonight.  As Ramadhan is over and life is
getting settled here. I am back with “Tess Of The D’Urbervilles”. I am
making a lot of changes in whatever I’ve written so far. It may take
couple of weeks at least before you can find the first of the Eight
large poems.  When I say large you can imagine how large it is.
haha.
 Enjoy what remains of the weekend and be blessed in the Sunday.

This day the 29th day of Ramadhan is important to me.  When I was young I missed my father a lot, as
he was away from us in his business place. Once in 6 months he will come for
couple of weeks. Then in 1988, age and diabetes kinda got to him and he came
back to our little town and lived there with us. At that time I was first away
in another city doing my graduation and once I graduated I came back to town
but day time I spent most of the time in the big city nearby with my friends as
well as getting trained on computers. Surprisingly my father who spent most of
the time away was always eager to know when I came home. He never told a harsh
word at me. He never beat me or scolded me. Always soft spoken, a man I know
otherwise very short tempered and brutally strong. The only thing that upset
him at that time was me getting angry at my nephew for some reason. My dad
hated anyone saying anything bad or getting angry at my only sister’s children.
From 1988 till 1993, without giving one lecture he had shown me what a father
is supposed to be. Filled my life as a father till that time and another 150
years. On that fateful day after he gave charity money to all the poor he retired
for the night. Later that night he complained about breathing problems. We
tried our best to get him to the hospital but even the best of the doctors were
not able to save him. He died in 1993 of a massive heart attack. Because of the
diabetes he never felt the pain. Today is his 12^th death
anniversary.

  I am a little pissed off, I lost my phone. It is like losing
my girlfriend to an unknown guy. I spent $300 on that PDA phone. It’s not the
money or the data in there that matters. I loved it. I am not pissed off at
anyone but me..
Update: Ramadhan is over. Tomorrow is Eid..