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 8, 2010 5:48 PM

The Essence Of A Lover’s Life.

This is a fantastic day, the Arctic blast is tap dancing around me. I am not a big fan of tap dancing still the tap dancing from North, yeah I can live with that. Tomorrow is going to get more colder in my mother tongue they say “Rudra Thandavam” it means the dance in Anger and Vengeance. Maybe what we are going to feel tomorrow is that kinda dance. I love cold, snow, ice and everything of winter. Today I was driving around in the cold by late afternoon I understood, I am an expert driver on icy roads but most others are not. So I got back home. Hope everyone is trying to stay warm this weekend. Enjoy the cold.
This poem is not a happy poem. For not a happy reason I thought of shutting down this PoetryBox. I am not going to go into the details of that. At that time I wrote this poem. It kinda gives the essence of the reasons. Well as I have decided not to shutdown the site I kept this poem away. I am not going to shutdown and go away from here. But the poem in its essence is very real. Sorry everyone on a cold winter day I only have more cold to give you all.

The Essence Of A Lover’s Life.

Sunday came and Sunday left,
He wished the sky were blue and air more warm,
He wished his love where in her arms,
But further and further form him she too left.

Wishes were all good, bad and many were just to be dreamt,
One way or the other from bad to just another dreamer he went,
A mad man talking to himself in the eyes of the world,
As so much about her love to himself he told.

The sleep in love brought the dream,
Then the dream through every corner of life weaved,
A drag net that gathered every bit of life and filled,
Love for her in way humanity unknown.

The wishes were like glaciers moved,
Eyes can’t see, legs can’t feel, no noise heard,
Love indeed is an unseen, unheard, untouched feeling,
Uninvited into him from all around consumed.

Unreal, impossible Oh many words from her he heard,
Mind like horses in a stable back and forth swayed,
As through every means love for her to erase he tried,
Ah’ the pain of the unloved he himself forget to forgive.

All he left, the pain still he felt and to erase he talked,
Talked again and again about all that came and gone,
To a wild world that danced around she too joined,
Unknowing, hearing his talks to erase his pain, to forget all, she too told.

A corner unknown, a way unknown he searched,
To go far, far away, far away from her he decided,
Oh’ then a drop of tear from the page he wrote erased,
The word love he wrote with the essence of his life, filled with her face.

©RIAZAHAMMED.COM. 2009 All Rights Reserved.

January 3, 2010 8:47 PM

Hooded

Hooded

In the cold of winter; trying to hide from Nature

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

June 11, 2009 5:49 PM

Murmur Of A Vagabond

I will be back on blogtv tonight for a brief show. I am not fully fit to do any show. My left chin still hurts. And I haven’t shaven for nearly two weeks. Still I will be there.

The week is almost over. I really wished for a week like this, so, no complaints. Catch you all later.

Enjoy the poem.

Murmur Of A Vagabond.

The crowd every moment fattened,

But none known to each other at each other they looked,

Strangers in a closely knit world filled,

By the pathetic portion of materialism,

That runs through the veins of screaming losers,

None hear them but their spiritual ghosts,

Oh’ the reality of those ghosts murdered,

By passionless lovers and their admirers.

More and more people to the middle of the town poured,

Even couples who left home as couples became strangers,

And through them all step by step he walked,

Many smiling strangers his eyes don’t see,

None of the mocking giggles his ears don’t hear,

Those arrogant ones who bumped on him he felt not.

The world as is from his mind left,

Life from his veins drained,

Oh’ the poison of the witchcraft of love too left,

As every loving feeling from his mind he erased.

The fast moving crowd, many without direction wandered,

Artificial lights in many colors glittered,

Oh’ their minds he could hear,

And only for one face all around him he looked,

Then the wisdom from the past through his mind breezed,

And to himself he murmured,

“Oh’ how much I loved you dear,

And how much I love you dear,

Why through the wilderness of this world you danced?

Why only scream of your long lost ghost I hear?

Why to the love of mine you never looked,

Through the spiritual side than the material mockery of the world?”

In his mind or any of his wisdom in his mind he knew,

Gave any answers to those questions murmured,

Rain poured and the crowd lost their grip,

As he walked on and on knowing where he will reach,

Not knowing how his mind will gain a bit of peace at that moment.

November 14, 2008 9:17 PM

To A Young Girl

This poem was written with vague images. The vagueness was deliberately put in so be careful before making any judgments.

Most part of this poem was written about two and a half years ago. I never thought I will post it or even to take it and read it again. The truth about this poem is very nasty and ugly when one looks at it from a distance, but in the details I found, there are couple of great souls that came at each other and one found other ways. But the other one was me who couldnt find a way out. It is at that point I wrote this poem. It was an attempt I really dont know why I wrote it. But I did and felt really weird. Recently I offered the character in this poem something and I felt like a stranger with the response and then I realized, Oh yeah I am a stranger and felt a bit stupid. Today morning while driving some more of this poem popped up in my head and after reaching work I added that. I tried hard to find a proper conclusion to this poem I just couldnt do it in the way I wanted, because at a point mind just went blank which anyone will understand once one reaches the end of this poem.

Read And Enjoy.

To A Young Girl

Once upon a time when time too stood still,

When darkest paths passed but darkness still remained,

When lucky stars faded and fate onto my life frowned,

Came to life a little girl, an angel with glow of life filled.

One thought of her words of good wishes,

Erased all darkness and into life brought light.

From reality to fantasy and a respected figure of fantasy,

And that fantasy figure placed herself upon the little angel.

Thoughts of respect and care merged,

And into a full bloomed garden became,

A garden with flowers and fruits filled,

A garden where birds always sung,

A garden where wishes always fulfilled,

A garden so wonderful none ever wanted to leave,

But the righteousness of me and appropriateness of truth,

Burned that garden in the mind grew,

And in seven seas the ashes scattered.

As stranger I am to the life of her,

As to it only from far away I can look,

Never wanted to meet her and never wanted to talk,

Never wanted to lie and to her never I lied,

Never wanted to pain but her blessed words always I seek.

Still she became the flower that forever will remain bloomed,

She became a darling of spiritual blessings,

She became the budding rose of colors I know not,

She became a life long event that leaves,

A pinch of happiness in every moment of her memory,

She became a star that carries the luck of mine,

And stars always stay far, far away,

Not knowing who received the blessing of her,

As for the lucky one who can only look from far,

Knowing one day that star will burn away,

But she will remain bright and twinkle,

As much as time can take me and from then forever,

And I could do nothing ever to change what reality brought.

Oh every new seed I sowed failed to grow,

In the place where that beautiful garden grew,

That land none can destroy and I never will,

As somewhere still in memories remain,

The images of a flower filled garden,

And never will I love as never ever I can,

As nothing can grow in that wasteland anymore.