Segregate

•August 6, 2010 • Leave a Comment

She came to me hoping to find an answer,
and then went out the door without a clue,
is this the same fear that kills your demise,
or is this the same void that completes you?

Rescue efforts to save souls lost in grace,
carry themselves towards the night and die,
where the truth hopes for a lie to get thrown,
and the false pretense asks you slowly, “why?”.

And then you can tell them and jitter in peace,
where the park slowly ends, the green begins,
and the garden that was your ultimate savior,
bows down, burns into ashes, and silence wins.

Like a silent raindrop

•July 31, 2010 • 1 Comment

Like a silent raindrop would,
trickle down the windowpane,
I would wish for tears to dry,
for this confusion to be inane.

Like a silent raindrop would,
bid farewell to the sky and cloud,
I would wish to solemnly depart,
without making a sound, be loud.

Like a silent raindrop would,
slither down life and be aware,
I would hope that this story lets go,
of wisdom with nothing left to share.

See and hear, the moist mist go by,
these writings on paper, and still I try.

Natural Harmonic

•July 31, 2010 • 1 Comment

Through the hollow body,
a sound rings and I hear an echo,
where the scent would go when blue
where nature embarks upon a show.

To envision a hatred free living,
is to creep up inside a webbed halo,
to call for a truce with disease,
is to end ones happiness in true woe.

The scent of incense fills the sky,
and people who loved and lost, cry,
but a sound harvests the crop of life,
as blunt as rust, as sharp as a knife.

To think the hills took their shallow pace,
and took off towards the light and the day,
is to lose the charm, and lose the faith,
that people who left are in a better place.

Dedicated to Hasan Alam’s father.

Easy to breathe.

•July 25, 2010 • 3 Comments

The walls now push me back,
my freedom was never intact,
given that it’s easier to breathe,
I’d like to be my own self again.

Locked inside like the demon of wrath,
the fiery fire burns and they start to pray,
the angels who had it easy, never had to be,
in the line to work for it and then be free.

Suppose it did go on, suppose I did revive,
the soul that eluded me, took the heavenly dive,
contradictions would still exist, I would still ask why,
living in this world is a synonym to simply try.

I get that it’s not as it seems,
I get that it’s not merely a dream,
but this isn’t a life I chose for myself,
this isn’t where I wanted to try,
because each day I breathe my last,
each day I decide to sigh,
each day I revolve again,
and simply count the days till I die.

Plausible Deniability

•July 15, 2010 • 3 Comments

Don’t jump to conclusions, this isn’t over,
stab me in the back, expect me to answer?
I did not run down the track and disappear,
those weren’t my footsteps, Not mine at all.

Pain as a median, shadows as the meridian,
slowly and surely, it will vanish, soon enough,
freedom is as subjective as me telling a lie,
following it is requesting a pious martyr to die.

I don’t remember this happening at all,
I don’t know you, I don’t know this place,
this fortress of whispers, this rusty space,
this isn’t the war I signed up to wage,
look at me, this is me, locked up in a cage.

When I set the building on fire,
I never knew it’d burn to the ground,
when I married illusions and disappeared,
I hopelessly thought I wouldn’t be found.

I will tell you all of this is true,
and then say I don’t know you.

Vanish, disappear, reappear, slowly,
calmly, solemnly, rightly, again I,
Disappear.

Alley

•July 14, 2010 • 3 Comments

Do you talk when you are awake,
and when you wander do you see?
the corner of the alley and the tree,
standing there in dark, you and me?

The street lights flicker and it stays,
the torrid torment did find a way,
I lean against the wall and you sway,
till the hopes stutter and find a day.

Saying…

“The doors were open, I walked inside,
the bridge that covered the great divide,
because you were always so far away,
like a tearless, starless night longing day. ”

The music that echoed in my ear stopped,
the pictures once well composed now cropped,
the look on the face shallow, the glass dropped.

When the shallow hearts scream, I do not care,
when solitude challenges solemnly, I may not hear,
but when the last leaf falls, I know I’ve failed,
and when the dream is over, the shadows disappear.

Search

•July 4, 2010 • 5 Comments

The search started with the flame,
and then it was on with the game,
a look here, a peak there, sigh,
and all answers, were just dry.

In classrooms, between lectures,
it was always about who is right,
the guy with the green cap on top,
or the black cap goons who fight.

Then the teachers,those items intense,
some left, some were right on the fence,
but there was definite hate, a solid try,
to predict where we’d go after we all die.

And there in the middle was me, thinking,
pondering over their words, their words,
that just never made any sense, and I’d fly,
thinking about blasphemy, dogma, and why?!

Because I was supposed to, or I’d just piss off,
the angels in the sky, and the man sitting up high,
and he’d send me to hell, and make me burn forever,
and never let me see heaven, ah! Wasn’t I clever?

And then I’d go to pray, five times a day,
and if you’d ask me why? I wouldn’t say,
I would just smile and tell you, it’s sacred verse,
and if you disagree, then let me be there to curse.

So it was me, my pants up over my ankle,
my head spinning, without knowing a clause, reason,
because if I did that, it would be bad, solid treason,
and then it just stopped making sense to me,
was I being held captive, or was actually free.

That’s where the real search started,
I started to question here, there and now,
about why we are here, and it all works how?
and the search continues but one things for sure,
I would never let dogma influence me, or allure.

It is seduction and it is wrong,
I’m way over it, and I am strong,
hate me for I utter mere crap,
but this is not me, it is your trap.

The search is for me to embark upon,
from dusk till night, and back to dawn,
who am I is nothing to you,
a lie to me, is truth to you,
so whatever you say or whatever you do,
always remember, I am me, and you are you.

Picture by Hasan Alam