The Venom To Which I am Addicted

The Venom To Which I am Addicted

Read all that I have written,
In the blasting summer storms,
Speak to your mind and once more ask,
Will you ever feel love in the way I loved you?

Burn up the sheets of my love,
Bury the ashes, float away the dreams,
The fires of love will remain above,
And still the words the flowing water will scream.

In the depths of love there is kindness,
And innocence none will know but in passions blinded,
There are lost ways none ever ventured,
There are lost years none ever counted,
The drift between our souls, Oh’ we always felt we needed,
Yet, the love so strong with silence so tightly bound.
The gift in our hearts, each other we feel,
Oh’ from it I can’t walk away, but can you?

Life as a concrete canyon grown,
Then along with my love for you apart it fell,
The steel and stones all twisted,
The dust like the mist from a volcano blown,
And my love a venom to which I am addicted.

Again and again to my heart I pleaded,
To turn away, erase away your face,
Again and again the remaining time and space of mine filled,
With a face, a smile and the deep rooted love of yours,
I once failed to understand and accept.

©RIAZAHAMMED.COM. All Rights Reserved. 2011.

Listen to the Broken Angel song I posted earlier you will know what I mean.. Half of the song is in some Turkish. But the english part is interesting.

Broken Angel Arash ft. Helena

January 6, 2011 7:38 PM

The Curse Of The LonelyPoet. Part III.

The New Year came with no thunder and lightning. The day passed just like another day. It was a year of recuperating. 2010 is a year I will remember as going back to basics. The counting of successful days was not a great idea then setbacks came in. We change doesn’t happen by itself one will force it and then the resistance from the whole nature around is amazingly awesome. It is not easy at all, still there is a touch of pleasantness to everything.

I am not a person who will forget the steps I climbed to reach a little more higher. These are days when it is not to heights I move, it is just ahead. Still I keep in mind every step that took me ahead. There were events involving people who deliberately hurt me. I have forgiven them all. Then my unconditional love still remains unaccepted.

The very thought of that unaccepted portion of my soul brought me to a very dramatic chaos in mind. This is not the first time this happened. Twice it happened; in both times I took those portions as a piece of time in life I called a curse. The first poem “The Curse Of The LonelyPoet” was published in my first book “Age Of Survival”. The second poem was written based on a real life event and then a dream I saw where I saw a doll talking to me in anger. I made it a bit spooky and called it “The Curse Of The LonelyPoet. Part II” This one takes a different turn.

Read.

The Curse Of The LonelyPoet. Part III.

See through the light from my soul,
See the love in my soul that glows,
Darkness is nothing strange to the true lover,
Ah’ nothing on Earth stay as is forever.
I laid all the light in my soul for you to see,
See the love for you glow in me.

Maybe a thousand lines of verse about us I already wrote,
Wrote in soul, memories, in a thousand years to come can remember,
Oh’ you are the flower, who withstood the winter storm,
You are the star that shines without any mass inside,
But for me you chose to leave,
Leave only a silhouette of gladness.

The phantoms of past faceless danced,
And about you again and again I thought,
Dragged along with a life consumed,
With crooked fate and dark times,
Oh’ the shining of a blessing I once saw,
The shining of a lucky star in the soul of yours,
But why ye chose again to throw,
Me back into the mighty dark of past.

Kindness of you I will not take,
Anger of you with love I will subdue,
And the loving me you can never curse,
Into oblivion my love will go,
Only your love for me can rekindle in me smile and love,
Until that day every object on the face of this planet I curse,
Not to feel the love of mine.

May 17, 2010 9:31 PM

Gone By Days.

Gone By Days.

The golden feathers of a bird in the spring sunshine glittered,
Oh’ upon her soft feathers wind glided,
Alone she rested and in thoughts maybe,
About the flight when summer warmth in air dance,
And in the cold morning of the fall fly,
Through the falling leaves low,
The ones once were green and large and gave,
Shelter and cover from mother nature’s wrath.
Then about the migration paths to find,
Leaving the howling winds and the piercing frost,
When to the southern thin and warm air fly,
But nothing down south can comfort,
Like the big green leaf’s touch,
When the piercing sun rays of the late summer noon binds,
When rain down comes and upon the leaf and splash,
And under it when with soaked feathers sit,
With nudging little ones for cover squeaking,
Yet another season unfolding,
Yet another set of events to come,
So much dynamism,
So much fascination,
Yet, results of events and actions,
Same as gone by days.

January 12, 2010 4:53 PM

Frozen Seeds.

I just thought of writing a poem and wrote the following. Then I thought I will write an introduction and blog post. I wrote some then I said, C’Mon man don’t do this. Because that blog post I wrote was filled with profanity. There are people in this world who thinks they are the best, you know what, they will learn that life is not what they think it is. Someone once asked me when I said, You will learn. “What will I learn?” here is the answer. You will learn that love and care is not something that will come to you easily. A dedicated lover will never leave or can never leave. All you see as friends, family are all reasons to reach that love. They will not last longer than they intended to stay with you. As for the person who truly love and care about you, it is up to you to decide how long that person should stay. I didn’t say that at that time as I know my anger may take what I may say as a curse for that someone. I can never, ever curse that person. But unfortunately that person chose the path that painfully will teach that person the lesson.
The above said thoughts kinda triggered this poem. It was so quickly written and I am very busy with some things, I just was not able to go through the poem a second time. My critics, kill me if you want to for any errors I made.

Frozen Seeds.

Buried in the forces of winter so brutal,
You all sleep under the comfort of freeze.
Freeze by the will of nature brought,
And through lands and seas in north, spread.

Remember the beginning of colder months,
When the first leaf through the light cold breeze floated,
And upon the green grass fallen helplessly.
Oh’ the tree in pride at the dead lost leaf, looked.

Then one by one seeds by many means taken,
Some by birds, some by people, many just fell,
And through fires, rains and winds far away went,
Life in a shell kept, in forced sleep.

Are you all dreaming to see the sunlight?
Are you all dreaming to see the blinking stars?
Are you all dreaming to soak in rains of spring?
Are you all dreaming to dance in the summer warmth?

With new leaves, flowers giving sweet honey and fruit,
Are you all dreaming to leave a mark of your own in this world?
Land is old, the air will be new, the winds will come,
With songs sung by birds in far away lands.

What lessons one can learn though not seen,
Thinking about a seed, deep buried,
Though in wonder one can still smile,
As life is same for all creations one know.

January 1, 2010 5:16 PM

The Fire Starters

Happy New Year everyone. woo hoo one more year went away. A year in which more bad than good took its marathon run. For many people it is just another step, in fact it is a step that taught most of us great, great lessons. I strongly believe this is just a bad patch of time and soon things will be better than before it all turned bad. New Year day is a holiday that makes us all smile. Well in all honestly, it is just another day. Nothing changed only we the people feel a difference inside us which can be had everyday. See every day is a new day. Everyday one can have this new feeling as everything is new on every given day. People just imagine things, assume things, predict things and expect things. When it all don’t happen in the way they want, all will look for things to blame. In fact there is nothing to blame. That’s the way things are supposed to happen on that piece of time.

This poem The Fire Starters, took nearly 2 weeks to write. I had this feeling in my mind which I tried my best to express in words. Well read it then you will know that I was not 100% successful in getting it all out into words. Please feel free to point out any mistakes or things you don’t understand properly. Here it is

The Fire Starters.

The wild fires through the jungle flared,
As everything on the ground flames consumed,
Further and further to the edges flames came,
And then deeper and deeper flames went.

The darkness of nights none can see,
Over the mountains and through the valley,
The flames took its Olympian run,
The wind in all directions took the flame.

Burning through all living, burning down all that stood gray,
Big and small, colored and colorless, the flames consumed,
And the monster smokes like giants in the dark, danced,
Through the air, covering even the noon time sun.

Winds first like an old witch near a pyre blown,
Then the warmth of the fires made winds on its own,
Through the jungles like veins in a body the fires grown,
Ashes and dusts through air to far away lands flown.

The flames through all corners of jungle passed,
And every ways in ashes erased,
Oh’ what wonders once in depths stood,
Now in warm winds from all sides came, all around flown.

The ones though with unclear minds started the fire,
Not knowing how fast and fiery the fire can move,
Now none knows what through their minds passed,
As paths to each other in their own fires erased.

A hope among the ashes and dust up in the air flown,
That as prayers all through the charred trees echoed,
All the green the flames in fury burned,
Will fertilize the lands into new born growth.

The sun from the horizons left, leaving night victorious,
The flames maybe gone and the winds upon the mounts rested,
The valley still bright in some unknown light laid,
And through every paths known and unknown the light spread.

The light guided the streams back to the valley,
And the prayers answered as new sprouts from ashes arose,
Oh’ flames and heat can burn to ashes all lovely lives,
But the soul of this jungle remains untouched by any flames we know.

The depth of the jungle knows no heat,
Though flames of fires even deeper roots burned,
In the depth only light remained, light that came out of no fire,
That light never will fade even when everything is burned beyond roots.

December 10, 2009 8:16 PM

Rhythms Of An Unchoreographed Dance.

I am still sick actually not a lot more sick but I am sick. Coughing at steady intervals. Medicines have made my body very toxic that’s what I can say. So I am staying away from everyone sitting in the basement. I hope everyone survived the arctic blast. Woo that was cold but you know what, even though it makes me sick, I love the cold, freeze, snow and Ice any day. What else is going on? Mmm Obama received the Nobel peace prize pssst and justified wars. Daang he is one lucky guy who is fighting war on one side and receiving peace prize on the other. Anyway no other news really touched me than that. Actually it made me laugh. The world was way better when I was a kid at least spiritually.

Well, you all might’ve seen the video I posted along with the last poem. I can add just this. I am not a person who takes my way upon others, there is a way each and every person live, believes and achieves. It differs from person to person. One person’s treasure is another’s trash that doesn’t mean all are trash. I don’t thrust my ideas upon others just because I think for me it is right, it may be wrong for another person. So people should understand we are in many ways a collection of more than 6 billion islands connected by the care and love we give each other. It is those connections that makes life peaceful and more wonderful. Some people from totally different backgrounds, age and even geographical distances connect together in this age of information highway. Once connected even though people may not see, hear or communicate each other just don’t lose the connection between themselves. It will be there beyond, past, present and future which is defined by time. In the spiritual world, there is no time factor. Well, that’s just my way. Tell me about your way of dealing with things from past, in present, thinking about future.

Here is a poem I wrote as a first draft a while back and now gave a different context. The word Unchoreographed is not a perfect word as one may not find it in any dictionary. But it conveys the meaning in my mind. The idea of the poem is simple. It takes two to tango hehe. See, a connection happens between two people. It is up to those two to decide where to take it. Sometime one will fail to understand or some people go through delusions of just not accepting the fact that there is a feeling of care for another person. They try everything to just get rid of the feeling, justify with every means why they don’t care. Each time, they will only underline the care and love for another person. At times that reality makes both very, very sad. These are the thoughts that came to my mind when I wrote this poem. The whole idea is not depicted in the poem as is. But you all will know what is implied when you finish reading this poem.

Rhythms Of An Unchoreographed Dance.

Step by step the dancer moved,
The rhythm from music in mind heard gathered,
Picturing next steps standing on the present,
Not knowing anything about the next steps,
As all that is real is the past and the new born moment.

The mysterious illusions so tempting to follow,
The tender naked feet so fast lay,
Dragging thoughts way deep in the past erupted.
All those thoughts under those well laid steps buried.

Past is the history, the well laid foundation,
Future is the illusion the hunter in everyone hunts,
And present is where past can bring us,
And the bows well stretched to fire the feelings to morrows.

Though so wonderful to watch the dancer’s dance,
Taking rhythm from heart in spontaneity births,
For the odd laid steps a rhythm in another heart births,
For which no tune the dancer heard.

Every step of the dance piece of the jigsaw puzzle,
Every piece placed in the order it meant to be,
The puzzle when finished should always look,
In the past when the puzzle was drawn,
And step by step of a dance from a dynamic mind,
Portrayed the face of a lover the dancer never expected to see.

Oh listen to your own heart beat,
The whistling tunes gather the dusts of past,
From which colors of all kinds in love brewed,
And a jigsaw puzzle through fate of life made,
The finished jigsaw puzzle is meant to be in your heart,
Reality of all this is a dance none choreographed,
The rhythm of that dance can be heard,
Only when counterpoints of two heart beats are heard.

Here is the BlogTV presentation of the Poem.
Rhythms Of A Dance – Broadcast your self LIVE

October 31, 2009 3:28 PM

Shows

I think I had a similar post a while back. I do shows on BlogTV where I recite poems with my funny accent. Now I started the shows here on XangaTV too. Which you can find if you come to the front page of my site. here is the link http://poetrybox.xanga.com you can also watch other shows of my friends from BlogTV here as I show those shows here too at time. Come on around either here on XangaTV or on BlogTV and talk to me. Lets have some fun with poetry.

Happy Halloween everyone.