September 27, 2012 11:55 AMJune 24, 2018 11:04 PM

Love Made Me An Unknown Man To Myself

I was sitting in the middle of the night thinking about the way life always gets reset without us noticing it. I looked back at some events in the last one year and it only made me smile. Maybe I am a very lucky man to smile at many things that happened and I am a very lucky man to get chances over and over again. That very thought made me say the title of this poem. Rest of the poem just flowed from there.

Have a fantastic day.

Love Made Me An Unknown Man To Myself.

The sea like the vastness of imaginations spread,
In depths, dark and mysterious secrets held,
Silence in some corners in stillness loomed,
And roaring waves with unknown vengeance unrolled.

The vastness of sea and imaginations merged,
As near the never ending shore I sat,
The wicked winds with fury against my mind flew,
Splashing waves into imaginations, diluting images in mind.

Mind a Pandora’s Box none want to open,
And through the vastness of time mind upon imaginations flew,
Backwards through every moment with her in apologies,
And in tiredness of my dreams, time in exhaustion fell.

The galloping time returned me to a reality so ugly,
The pathos of a tune many times heard lingered,
Still for a moment about her I remembered,
And a million roses in the folds of my heart danced,

When against the wicked winds walked,
Once more to the vastness of the sea I looked,
Ah’ somewhere in the depths of that sea lost,
A man in all truths I no longer recognize in me.

September 2, 2011 8:15 AM

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.

@sajuashan

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

June 9, 2009 5:58 PM

Questions.

It was a lousy, drowsy weekend. A total waste of time. I didn’t do anything just slept most of the time and Vicodin helped too. The pain is still there so I cannot eat anything that needs good chewing. I want to eat steak, big outback steak. Damn when I wanted it I can’t eat it. One thing I don’t understand, my belly still is the same size, damn, one week of literally liquid food no change, if I eat one steak, my belly increases half an inch.

Enough rambling about my weekend and lonely life hehe. People misunderstand me. That is the curse I live with. I intend only good for everyone. If at any point what I said or did hurt anyone please forgive me. I have only one request, if one cannot pay attention to me or not make me wait please don’t even think about communicating with me. Because unlike many others I am very alone so I seek attention. You want to call me an attention freak, go ahead, if that is who I am in your definition so be it. But never wake me up and tell me there is no supper for you. Hope what I meant is understood.

Here is a poem.

Questions.

Clouds like dragons float around firing,

Venomous fire at each other sparking,

And falling on to Earth, as summer danced in,

In this season when spring left with promises unfulfilled.

The lush greenery spring time left bore no flowers,

And days like magical serpents into the depths of nights grew,

Still all across the horizon I see not,

No star with the glow from your eyes, born,

No wind in the rhythm of your heart singing, blown,

Ah’ still at the wonders of the world I look and wonder,

Why without a dream for me to see you left,

A thousand reasons you can tell,

A hundred different ways to walk,

Away from me into the world in rainbows bound.

Unrealistic all definitions are,

In every definition in the wonderful mind of yours,

And to the world around you, me and everyone else,

Why not walk on one of the rainbows into my heart pierce?

Didn’t you named the glow in your heart once after me?

Oh’ will you ever be able to turn off, the light you and I are?

Wipe away the mirages,

Whip away the whining distractions,

Who all with friendly smiles shadows,

But will leave you to melancholy and pain in dark.

O’ Summer sun come from above the darker clouds,

And with those gentle palms of light caress,

The face in brightness only seen by her,

Shine bright through moon at night,

To show her dreams filled with love of mine.

O’ my dear, there are no more definitions for my love,

As all my love was molded and made your soul,

As in your thoughts even nature around me dissolves in me,

Why not make the unreal real and bless the love of ours?

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.

January 30, 2008 2:13 AM

Drawing A Face

It is very interesting how days goes by. A very tough day, I just don’t know how I kept my composure all through the day. There are people out there who are totally business minded, who don’t care that it is people who works at computers to program them. There were many times I thought I’d say that I am not a computer. But luckily I have a very nice supervisor, she did all she can to keep me out of the reach of these jack asses. I told ya I will be taking a trip in the middle of the week. Rain, snow or shine I must do this. I don’t know how many more times I should do it. It is critical.

The poem came to me rather than me trying to get to it. I was watching a cold case show, I don’t remember what was the story line and in between I thought about drawing again. Well I did not draw, as, if I want to draw Katherine Morris I have to start drawing Julia Roberts. The connection I still was not able to figure out. So I don’t draw anymore, instead, I wrote this. Enjoy.

DrawingA Face.

In the sunlight facing westward she sat,
Not looking at anything but
The book of cheaper romance,
More beauty inside than outside found,
Still upon the dry clean sheet the pencil I pressed.

Between the curly hair her pretty face shined,
And what dark part, the graphite pencil can draw,
Mind can figure out still the silhouette slowly started,
To appear on the sheet from her left temple that glowed,
The kind face of sun in every ray from her reflected.

The line the pencil drew so smooth,
Towards the eyebrow bending,
Then the dark eyebrow draw, curved,
The brittle eye lashes covered the edge of the eyes,
The eyeballs were hard to fix,
As if in a dream, fast they moved.

And a little bulge my pencil felt,
As a little smile upon her face blossomed,
As the pencil curved through her cheeks,
And came all the way towards the only ear I can see,
Between those curly hairs pointed hide and seek it played.

From the outlines the pencil went,
To copy the fainted shadows,
The smiling, rosy cheeks leave around the eyes,
Oh’ I can see the rays of the evening sun fight,
To land upon those eluding eyes.

Then the pencil went about draw her nose,
A little curve that went up to a tiny tip,
Those little nostrils where the air she breathed,
Oh’ that heart gets its air from those, I wondered,
As the three dimensional touch the pencil finished.

Then what remained were those lips,
They twisted and many times whispered,
That which she read and those occasional smiles,
The pencil in my hand as it finished her lips shivered,
As deep into mind the image of a beautiful face, merged.

Oh’ with an apologetic mind I walked away,
As deeper and deeper into her romance she fell,
Not knowing through tip of a pencil an artists too,
Felt a little crush at a beautiful poetry,
The unimaginable supreme being wrote.

Elton John – Please

This is one great song. Anyone who have a little interest in poetry listen to the lyrics of this song and see how wonderfully Elton John blended the music with for this song. That’s the mastery of Elton John. That’s the reason why I like his songs a lot. It will not instantly catch you and leave you once it is over, his music and Bernie Taupin’s lyrics kinda grows in you and becomes part of you. I loved listening to this song when I was writing the poem above.

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