Home Of The LonelyPoet

Hi All,
I am kinda is walking into a turning point in my life. It takes a lot to explain and nothing is clear yet. It is connected to my immigration. I hope to get a clear picture of the choices I am going to get by tomorrow evening. There is a possibility that I may have to leave USA altogether, that is the worst case scenario. I will post the details either tomorrow evening or day after tomorrow.

Here is a poem I wrote after I fully realized that I am over “She”. I was kinda started seeing another girl at that time and this poem was written on my notepad upon her back sitting near Lake Michigan in Milwaukee, Wisconsin. Even though the ever changing aquarian mind of mine moved from Katrina and she from me to another guy and married him. We still are good friends.

I think the name of the poem fits the situation I am in. I think this is what I need to do.

Raising From Misfortune.
Still hear the echoes of the pathos, sung,
By nightingales long before my birth,
Glory to all those who went away,
Into the silent land, not to hear, not to see,
The misery I am in,
The loser’s wild cry.
Wishes are all powdered by misfortunes,
All my dreams were washed away,
By the violent sea of life into oblivion,
Love remain unheard and unknown,
When the one I love sealed her heart,
Glory to all those well wishers,
Their prayer went unheard with mine,
When bad man fate made me the unfortunate.
Now living against the waves,
And against the will of mankind,
Standing alone on the shore,
Weaving new dreams,
Blowing away the agony of fate,
Moving away from irony of misfortune,
Into the land of sweet dreams,
Raising new hopes of life and love,
Where you and I hold hands and pray,
For the day, for the ‘morrow and for the ages to come,
Where hopes are not just hopes,
But roots of a high yielding tree,
That bear the love of the ‘morrow and forever.

©RIAZAHAMMED.COM. This poem was released in LonelyPoet.Com in the summer of 1999.

I am getting caught up with the new job. Lot of things to do and I have very little time to do it all. Today I reached the office at 10:30 and my boss said hey buddy try to be here an hour before. He is cool. Nobody is upset, but it was a warning that outside life is getting caught up in my work, which is not good. My colleagues at work wherever I worked were the worst audience I ever faced. Computer programmers never enjoy poetry. I am a poet first and everything else after.

Now I haven’t wrote another word on my poems yet, so I am going to post another old poem. This is a poem I wrote when I was working in Florida way away from a girl I was dating. It was a tough time for both of us as we were at the verge of breaking up. I hope you all enjoy the poem.

The Vagabond.

Wandering through the battle field,
A battle lost even before fought,
Hopes and dreams were the weapons,
All lie shattered in pieces,
Love’s lost beyond any hope of recovery,
All across the horizon I see no lucky stars,
All murdered by a wicked thought,
Of whom i don’t know.
I’ll remain a vagabond,
Until I rediscover my senses,
But tell me girl where to look for,
A hope and dream to live for?.

©RIAZAHAMMED.COM. Poem was released in LonelyPoet.Com in the fall of 1998.

Hello Everyone!
A day I started late but now ends with total normalcy. Even though I am still not sure what I should do and should not here in this place I am kinda getting around. Now I know how good Texas was, how good Kansas was, how good California was and above all how wonderful Wisconsin was. I want to get back to Wisconsin, a place I consider as my second birthplace. I enjoyed every bit of it. I was angry, sad, happy and arrogant to say it in another way life was full there. Now no matter how I try to fit in and how much accommodative people are nothing satisfy me well like those three years. There are a lot of names, Megan, Katrina, Maggie, Jessica and someone not from there Linda these are some of the woman who came to my life. Then there were those great friends Ian, Nathan, Brian, Jim, Randy, Steve, Deepak, Nitin, Prabhakar, Cecil wow I can list a lot of names here. They all contributed to the well being of mine. There is one who stands out of it all ‘She’ taught me the biggest lesson, that love cannot be won by tricks or to put it in another way, she won the tricky game and I was defeated.

Now when I look back exactly 6 years after my life got royally screwed I know there are only two to blame Linda and myself. I know she will never see any of my writings as the hatred was that much. I may not even smile at her even if by chance I meet her because my love burned away in my struggle to survive. This is the first time ever I am mentioning her name in my sites till now I only said ‘She’. If she ever finds this post my apologies to her for saying her first name.

One thing is sure I am way away from that reality called love, I will never be able to backtrack to my own heart, on my own strength.

This is a poem I finished in the winter of 1999 when I was unemployed, broke and heart broken. I started long time back to write it about10 years before I even met Linda, but the screw up really helped me to finish this poem. There is a lot more I could’ve written in this poem but even now it is the longest poem I’ve ever written. I may add more but I am not sure if I will ever do that or not. The I idea of the poem first originated in mind after a real life event. When I was in college we wake up early in the morning to do our studies. One night me and my friend Timor heard this birds cry, it sounded very sad. And ever early morning we heard that for like a week and one morning there was no cry. Next day we went around the possible tree  where the bird might’ve sat. We found the corpse of a bird with black and white spots on it. I felt really sad and helpless. I don’t use to write at that time. I first thought about writing it and wrote it in a Malayalam poem. I am not good in writing in Malayalam. The idea was kept in my memory archives and when I started to write in English I tried to write a poem with that. But I was not knowing how to finish it. Like I said earlier… the bad relationship and the way it all turned out put me away from town and one day when I was walking beside the lake in the evening the whole area got covered with mist. I cannot walk any further as I can’t see anything in the dark. When the mist was cloaking me the ending of this poem came to my mind. I ran through darkness and the thick mist I ran home and sat and wrote it all down. I still remember one of my good friend who read this poem telling me this “By far the best poem I’ve read” Like I said when I first posted in LonelyPoet.Com in 1999 I hope you all have the patience to read a 95lines long poem.

Song Of The Dying Nightingale.

Oh those nights I remember,
Warm dark and starless,
The cunning fox howls after the steal,
Neighbor’s dog howls in frustration,
The rumblings of the city buses and trains,
All settles past the last phase of the night,
And at the first phase of the morn,
The low voice of the nightingales song I heard,
A tune adored by melancholy,
A tune the whole nature listens in stillness,
And as a blessing brings daybreak to the world,
Or may be to soothe the pain of the singer.
Every night I waited to hear,
The variations of the sad and painful tune,
Seven weeks and three days passed,
With every morning of mine in tears,
And on that night I waited,
But the long tiring day threw my mind away,
Into the depths of sleep and the world of subconscious,
Where I saw two lovely birds singing,
Sitting on the different branches of the same tree,
Singing in high and low note reaching counter point,
And to the different tune of each bird dances,
The whole nature with joy and pride,
Filling every corner with scent of love,
Taking sides of each bird in turns,
The clinging of the branches and leaves,
The whistling wind that bumps around,
The steady stream all in union,
Makes the perfect orchestra;
But the law of nature always is,
That nothing goes in perfect harmony,
The male trying hard to get in tune with the female.
The different tunes counter point lost,
In the obsession of her who craved,
The unknown, the unheard, the unbelievable,
And for him love remains untold,
What’s heard was the babblings of the Ravens instead,
After eyes shut, mouth sealed, and wings broken,
Every morning from his soul rose,
The pathos of the tunes she sung,
Never ate, never slept but lived his time in sorrow,
Seven weeks and three days he wept,
And the unforgiving life left him without mercy.
From the virtual death I woke up in tears,
Seeing the lord of the day in all his glory,
The sleep, the dream all seem unreal,
What felt was the pain of a departing soul,
The power of the dream was gone,
When at the end of the long search,
Beneath a big banyan tree I found,
The featherless corpse of the sad singer,
The ever roaring mother nature waited in stillness,
Anger, sorrow and frustration all merged,
To make me understand once more, helplessness,
Closing all my senses I walked away,
From that place with a pleadge,
That I’ll rather live as a broken-hearted,
Than break any lovers heart.
Time and long struggle with life,
Took away the sadness of mine,
And the tune which I adored,
Faded away into the bad memory of mine,
In the very many years gone by,
I won, I lost and I survived,
Newness to nothingness, believable to unbelievable,
But always stood up to life without regrets,
Seven seas I passed from motherland,
From the land of warmth and mystery,
To the land of snow and wonders unheard,
Here again I won, I lost and I survived,
But the ever loving soul seem tired,
When loses outnumbered success,
All the castles I built turned to dust,
All the harmonious to disharmonious,
No thoughts, no dreams, no sleep,
As everything is in the season of decline,
Even the just set sun seems to hide fast,
From the eyesight of an unfortunate,
I feel so much vulnerable these nights,
Walking by the lake through the mist,
In moonless nights burying my last hopes,
I feel the remains of the winter, when the mist embraces,
In between, the warmth kisses my cheeks,
And sometime the western wind,
Brings me the smell of spring,
But there are those moments,
When everything stops even stars not blinking,
No warmth, no cold, no smell around,
The deadly stillness and silence of the nature,
Where I see the darkest part of the dark,
And hear nothing but the beat of my heart,
Then from the depths of my soul rise,
The tune from the soul of the dying nightingale.

©RIAZAHAMMED.COM. This poem was written and released in LonelyPoet.Com in the winter of 1999.

 

While I was driving through Arkansas which like I said was surprisingly beautiful there was this girl who was almost racing with me in her VW beetle the same color as mine. When I stopped at a rest area she also stopped there I did not talked to her as I was busy refreshing she came along and told me “You drive fast” I told her “So are you, you were there always on my right” smiling she told me that she is going to exit in another fifty miles, shook hands with me and told her name as Joan.
When I started I started recording what I was saying to myself. Last night I wrote it down and modified what I told a bit.
Here it is

Pleasant is the word that came to my mind,
Upon seeing you through my eyes,
You are like that cool breeze,
Upon my face I felt,
In the never ending sands of a golden beach,
Imprinting an image deep in my minds eye.

You are that flower by nature,
Again and again touched to perfection,
You are that flower by bee.
Again and again touched to fulfillment,
You are that flower to my bosom I will hold,
And keep in my love ever bloomed.

Your hands in every way perfect,
Every action every humans ever do,
Up in the prayers when they do rise,
None will go unanswered.
And forever blessed will remain,
My heart in those soft hands of yours.

The footsteps of yours is ever guiding,
In paths so righteous,
Every lovers dream of the eternal walk,
Began with the first step of yours,
And forever I will walk over those footsteps,
In the trans of the love of yours.

Yours is the face nature try to steal.
Every morning, evening, night and day.
Yours is the face I wish to carry,
In every bit of my view and beyond,
Yours is the face I promise to hold upright,
Even when tired in the fall of time.

I made a blunder, I did not asked any other details not even her email if she have one, nor did I gave any of mine to her.
I don’t know if this poem is completed, I have a lot more in my mind. I will update it when I add some more to it.
 

Arranging and re-arranging things in the apartment, watching rain,driving through rain and walking through rain. Day went by with all itsinsanity or my insanity for the day.
I comment on many sites on many different posts of people in xanga. IfI annoyed anyone through posts or replies my sincere apologies. I saidthis because someone told me so.
I am not going to post a poem but the lyrics of this great old song which I loved from the moment I heard it and still love it.

The Unforgiven

New blood joins this earth
and quikly he’s subdued
through constant pain disgrace
the young boy learns their rules

with time the child draws in
this whipping boy done wrong
deprived of all his thoughts
the young man struggles on and on he’s known
a vow unto his own
that never from this day
his will they’ll take away

what I’ve felt
what I’ve known
never shined through in what I’ve shown
never be
never see
won’t see what might have been

what I’ve felt
what I’ve known
never shined through in what I’ve shown
never free
never me
so I dub thee unforgiven

they dedicate their lives
to running all of his
he tries to please them all
this bitter man he is
throughout his life the same
he’s battled constantly
this fight he cannot win
a tired man they see no longer cares
the old man then prepares
to die regretfully
that old man here is me

what I’ve felt
what I’ve known
never shined through in what I’ve shown
never be
never see
won’t see what might have been

what I’ve felt
what I’ve known
never shined through in what I’ve shown
never free
never me
so I dub thee unforgiven

you labeled me
I’ll label you
so I dub thee unforgiven

Forgive me my little friend.

Oh boy, what a wild week. The drive from Irving, Texas to Sterling, Virginia was one of my best drives ever. I’ve fallen in love with Arkansas. That place is flat and fits my dreams. I drove through, Memphis, the home of Elvis, stayed for a night there, I drove through Nashville, the capital of country music and altogether I am tired of being happy.

I did not updated for some days thinking that I can finish the poem “The Drive” but I am kinda stuck at a point or cannot link one part of the poem to another. I am really thankful to all of you for the great words of well wishes you all left in my site. I have a special thanks for Cristalite who visited LonelyPoet.Com and left some constructive comments and I owe her a lot for that.

Now here is an old poem I wrote a while back for you all to read and hope you all enjoy this.

Thanks all have a wonderful weekend.

God’s Wish.

Wander with peace of mind,
Between valleys and on country gravel roads,
Play like a kid on the shore,
Making sand castles and chasing little crabs,
Lay on the lawn with her in a summer night,
Between roses, kissing daffodils and her,
Marry the tall lean sweet heart of mine,
Give a little more kindness to innocent hearts,
Give a little more respect to my elders,
Be that sweet and great poet,
Who loves all and give them verse to share.
I said it all in my bed time prayer and slept.
Don’t know what woke me up,
May be a dream, may be its real,
Don’t know what I heard,don’t know what I saw,
Don’t know what touched me so deep,
But the feeling in the depths of my soul said,
       “God Wishes Otherwise”.

 ©RIAZAHAMMED.COM. This poem was released in LonelyPoet.Com in the summer of 1999.

Hi All,

I am resting now in preparation for the second leg of my wild ride. Tomorrow morning I am flying back to Texas to vacate my apartment and pick up my car. It will be a drive I hope to enjoy. I started writing a poem a while back called ‘The Drive’ for some reason I never felt it as a completed one. I may figure out a way to finish it in this two day long drive from Texas to Virginia.

I won’t online for couple of days so I thought I will just post a poem from my website LonelyPoet.Com. Recently I asked someone why he did not comment on my poems in LonelyPoet.Com he told me that I didn’t asked him to do so. So I am asking you all now to visit LonelyPoet.Com and comment on my works.

You all have a wonderful weekend and pray for me to have a safe and happy trip.

The Puppets Of Fate
The majestic sun all rolled up in glory,
Spreading warmth and light in every corner,
How many more dawns and dusks,
To see and sip in the feelings?
And how many more days to push away,
Looking at the sun, stars and the moon?
Like puppets going up and down.
They all stand witness to the uncertainty,
Of life, in all its complexity.
I am just another puppet of my own mistakes,
Handled by fate so far away from reality,
A heart filled with passions,
Fueled by wishes that fill in every nerve,
They are parasites who knows no reality,
But bear fruit evil;
And life disappears before every wish,
But feelings that sprout out of reality,
They linger deep inside with sanctity,
Though put to sleep in the awe,
Of the unpredictable games of fate,
Leaving imaginations to rule the reality of life,
Imaginations have become a cancer for the mind,
And faith in all good ever existed,
Blinding sight in the unbearable silence,
When I sung a song in the rhythm of my own heart,
To drag my consensus out of the fear of silence,
“Oh’ how many more times I wake
The feelings deep in sleep,
And forced to put them back to sleep again,
Singing a rhyme of pathos of the unloved?”

©RIAZAHAMMED.COM. Poem was first written during a flight to Amsterdam from Kuwait on my way to United States from India in April 2002, later re-written in Overland Park, Kansas in the fall of 2004.
 

Today a tiring day at work looking at programs and presentations and a lot of talking. I really don’t know why I am here and what I should do to make me feel better. I am preparing for the second half of the wild ride. Saturday morning I am flying back to Irving, Texas to leave my apartment there, take my car and drive back to Virginia. Today I got an apartment here in Virginia and it costs more than double the rent I was paying in Texas. I could’ve saved money by staying with someone but considering my sleeping, smoking and talking habits, it is better for me to pay more and live as myself.
    I did not touched the other poem I am working on today but I always have something for you my Xanga family. Here is a poem from the chapter I called “She” that is the last woman I really loved but I ended up empty handed and broken hearted. This poem was written when I hated love, but it was spoken from a heart filled with love and eyes filled with tears. Visit LonelyPoet.Com to read the whole chapter with 23 poems.

Dawn To Dusk.
The morning woke up from the sleep,
With the warm caressing of the sun,
Darkness seems lost so deep,
In the ocean of light all around.
Into the morning mist I walk,
With thought that weaves dreams,
Dreams for the day to carry on;
Never wanted to live in a fantasy,
But was never out of it,
Never ever felt the reality,
Of love, of care and true passions,
Never found a way around it,
And still on a search in this crawling life,
To find a way to reality.
Though I see you only in my dreams,
I know you’re just not a dream;
But the touch of love I felt,
That will last far beyond my life,
Soothes my fears and pain,
And fills every moment of the day,
With thoughts about you in every way,
And I miss the charm of the day,
With the charm of you that sway,
A heart and soul that lives with hopes,
To see the light of just your love.
The tired sun takes his mighty dip,
Into oblivion leaving horizons bleeding
,And my hopes remains as it is;
I feel the cold hand of the nightfall,
I hear the growl of the aging owl,
And in this starless night I see,
Darkness creeping into every soul,
Filling in every corner of the world,
And warns me once more of the end of time,
But my feelings brightens with this thought,
Even the end of time will not,
Fill any darkness between our souls.

©RIAZAHAMMED.COM. This poem was released in LonelyPoet.Com in the winter of 1999.
 

Hi, all, my xanga family, I felt deep the curiosity of all of you. Let me first say my sincere thanks to you all for the great well wishes for me in my new job and my cousin who is still struggling to regain her memory.

My cousin is still having memory problems, she asked for me who left India more than 7 years ago and have no memory of me leaving India. The sad part was she asked for my dad who died 12 years ago. She have no memory of my dad’s death either. But there is hope, as she recognizes her children who were born after my dad’s death. She keeps on talking things that have no connection to reality. But prayers and faith sure will get her out of this mess.

About my move, as usual something that can happen in a simple manner got into all sorts of complications. I was supposed to get into a plane at Dallas/Fort Worth airport at 6:45PM and the manager of the company that arranged the assignment told me to call him so that I can leave my car with him. He made a mistake when he told the phone number, he said 517 instead of 571 and I was calling him from 5:30PM onwards with no answer. At last at 6:10PM he called me and then I left the car at his place and we were rushing through the traffic to the airport. Alas, the check in close exactly when we reached there. I got bumped to another flight to Atlanta, the problem is there is no connection and I need to spent the whole night in the airport. The manger guy was almost pleading to me to go as they need someone to start on Thursday. I agreed and got into the airport. Then comes another problem. As I am a Muslim who changed the flight at the last minute, I got strip searched… I don’t think those guys might’ve slept for another couple of days. When I reached Atlanta a flash came to my mind with a name Kim Thomas my old buddy in India who now lives in Atlanta, we haven’t seen for nearly 8 years and I called him when I landed in Atlanta. He came and picked me up and we spent the whole night talking about the stories of all these years. The next day morning I got on to the plane to Dulles and now I am here in Virginia.

As for the new poems I always promised, I finished one. It was a request from a young and pretty friend here in Xanga. This is what she requested…”something exotic…wild..
about forgiveness, the hardships of life.. “. It was a great request. Fitting what I’ve gone through. This poem is a decentralized one, there is no central theme. It only speaks about the feelings. But I hope you all will enjoy it.

Thanks again my little family here. I love you all.

Scattered Dreams.

The feelings of dreams unfulfilled,
Flow through veins burning,
Every corner senses can feel,
As days pass me by,
Unknown about my existence.

All the emotions and the feelings that sprout,
From deep inside, deep in a forest grows,
Like that flower in vivid colors blossomed,
But unnoticed and uncared tall she stands,
In the shade even the spring rain missing,
To feel the touch of her adoration.
The humming birds and bees,
Around her they fly and admire,
Color and the sweetness taste,
Of the honey she offer,
But none felt the beatings of her fragile heart.
Only the tears of that flower wets the roots,
And fertilizes the dreams for her to see.
The emotions and feelings scatter,
Like the pollens of that flower unknown.

Oh’ none of the emotions and feelings scattered,
Connect to the thoughts of loved ones,
Parents, relatives and friends,
Who loves me even in my imperfections,
And they are lost in those imperfections,
Care and love in scrutiny defined,
Every moment of life bound in obligations,
And those things I feel the perfect me,
Unheard, unseen, unfelt and remains rusted. <>

Into all those eyes filled with care,
How will I look,
And live to fit in a life with deceptions,
Unloved and uncared by my conscience?
And how long will I suppress,
And live for the day in frustrations,
And wait for that day when I will stand,
Upon my own dreams in fulfillment?

There are those days to come,
When with the forgiveness of all those who loved,
For all the deceptions and in the forgiveness
Of mine to all those who forget to understand,
I will be a dream fulfillment,
With you nearby, a realization,
Of the gathering of all those pollens.

©RIAZAHAMMED.COM.

Hi All,
  I will be out for couple of days.. I think.. I will explain indetail what is going on. I am going on a wild ride…. nothing special.Today I was assigned in a new job in Virginia and I have to report inVirginia tomorrow morning on a new assignment. I don’t know where I amgoing to work and what I am going to do.
Anyway once I get settled I will respond to all your replies and post more poems.
Peace And Love
.