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On Writing And Words Lonely Poems | On Writing And Words Poems About Lonely

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Details | Verse | |

Nightscapes



Late night summons madmen, 
madams, bold streetwalkers,
picking pennies from the gutters
as the merchants close their shutters
and the homeless crouch in doorways
in their rags, against the cold.
Black or white, no compromise,
no colours clothe the empty streets,
as Bobbies tread their lonely beats,
the watchmen rub their crusted eyes
and settle into vigilance,
no accident, just circumstance.

Midnight passes.
Leila in her bursting bodice
lingers, guesses who I am
and flaunts her body, all the same
to her, a customer who'll pay
for twenty minutes' satisfaction.
Dressed in taffeta and lace
she'll never even see my face,
night's sweet anonymity,
the very definition of her name.

Later, as the moonbeams shift,
and cloudlines disappear and drift,
come images in stark relief
of twisted metals magnified
that catch the eye, suspend belief.
Abandoned building, hollow-eyed
and squinting in a death mask grip,
skeletal, once filled with pride,
now empty, and for ever tongue-tied,
cadavered, and condemned to drip.

Still later, the street-lamps spot
the cats a'creeping worldly-wise,
and rats along the quayside waiting,
ready for the avalanche
of waste into the yawning dumpsters. 
I have seen the children sneaking out
before the dawn comes crawling,
dirty little ragamuffins forced
into leftover clothes,
weepy-eyed and snotty-nosed,
playing with a rotting carcass
or a broken bicycle.

Pre-dawn, and the street-lamp sputters,
merchants come to raise their shutters,
regard the fading moon, and mutter,
'yet another day.'
Begone, O Bride of Midnight!
favour us with not another glance,
put your spells away,
you'll not lead us in our daily dance.
Behold a wrinkled substitute, 
a crone who likes to think that she's a queen;
with as much grace as she can muster,
she flusters, fidgets, lonely in her room,
feathered and be-furbelowed
and plays with her decolletage, 
she's mutton dressed as lamb.
The smell of stale tobacco 
and a whiff of old perfume,
no longer with her entourage
she dances out of rhythm to the tango,
rusty and unconstituted,
wraith-like, a phantom in her tomb.

At twenty past I'm home at last,
the brass plate spells my name;
come inside!
familiar and gratifying,
slippers by my bed still lying,
dressing gown and cap are crying,
here abide!
The sheets are turned and ready.
I leave the night and take a final bow,

grateful for the here and now.


Details | Haiku | |

The Internet: Return

A void of Facebook
Creativity dies here...
Procrastination!


Details | Bio | |

I Am Poetry

I stand solo, aloof in the snow, a precipitation 
                     of words cascading from a nebulous eye 
Fathoms wide, forever dripping like wax onto 
                     a punctured paper serving a Sanskrit sky,

and spreading into sibilant sentences swiftly 
                     sliding from syllable sorcery to soulful serenades 
so silent in the shunting shout of white. Poetry 
                     fills a churning void where novels cannot wade,

Phrases solidifying into idolisation of emotion 
                     itself, isolation of the isometric individuality that so 
Crushes my keeling cavern of thought, ever 
                     careering from caustic career path to another new low,

Which so seems to crumble into crazy paving’s 
                    counterpart. In this first freeze-frame we can all grasp
A fraction of the familiar, oh so fractured by the 
                    fumbling nature of enforced form. Freed by the gasp 

Of a photo-opportunity glowing phosphorescent 
                    with firsts, I am no longer framed by the festering 
Constraints of non-fiction, and folding my fond 
                    farewells carefully, I hesitantly face a vision pestering 

Me, fearing the fiend that would open maw and 
                    gnaw beneath my feet, evoking an avalanche of the 
Vernacular, but I am further past this unfed 
                    existence now, loosened from the fickle friendship of a

Winter thaw. Focus not your gaze on the grinding 
                    gauze of the greats, for the pressing pestilence of 
Perishable poetry is elsewhere pondering its parallels 
                    in posturing and post-modern pining for forlorn love. 


Praise no other; I am poetry.


Details | Haiku | |

Haikus About God: III

Beauty of nature
Why condense it down to God?
Isn’t life enough?


Details | Verse | |

Le Vacance Pretentieuse: Going Home

What is it to see the soil of home again?
A welcome, snow-struck and a return
To cold; sharp white contrasts sunburn.
We converse in broken tongues to men

We know, hooked on holiday language
Comprised of wandering hand signs.
Collect the car and pay parking fines,
Drive through towns and over a bridge

Until we reach the Western gateway.
Oh when will we arrive at our house?
No camels there, only field mouse
Which are eaten by our cat anyway.

The plane flies for an age, slyly yawning
Through the stretching, pealing sky,
A knife through air; what it is to fly.
Our travels over; a new day is dawning.


Details | Rhyme | |

IN A BRIGHT STUDIO OVERLOOKING THE NOISY STREET

In a bright studio overlooking the noisy street,
I hide from the living to write with a frantic beat;
loud voices and sounds will subdue before dark...
very sweet is the the melody of the lonely lark.


Even when it snows, the view is quite awesome:
watching snowflakes slowly come down and dress 
trees in glistening white...one can feel lonesome
when every audible sound is hushed by stillness. 


How lovely it is when happy faces peak from windows!
They may seem immensely surprised or stupefied;
and some even open their doors and come outside
to observe the fluffy snow descend on the pines' boughs.   


I pause for another minute, then resume my writing...
it's profound observation that inspires the heart and mind,
giving this motivated poet many ideas of positive feeling;
I sense and absorb them, not noticing kids getting wild.   


In a bright studio overlooking the noisy street,
I fear shadows towards evening when feet
make deep footprints that lead to my stairs... 
and afraid of ghosts, I begin chanting prayers.


Details | I do not know? | |

REST IN PEACE MUM ANN BROWN 18 AUG 2011

MUM ...

WHERE DO I START? I DON'T THINK THERE IS WORDS , TO EXPLAIN HOW I AM 


FEELING ABOUT THE LOSS OF YOU... BUT I WILL USE ALL THE STRENGTH YOU HAVE 


GIVEN TO ME , SO I CAN GET THESE FINAL WORDS OUT THE GUILT , SADNESS AND 

REGRET  FROM NOT SEEING YOU LIKE I WANTED TO  SO ****ING MUCH ,

 THEN THE PAIN OF NOT HAVING  A CHANCE TO SAY "GOODBYE" TO THE MOST 

BEAUTIFUL MOTHER COULD WANT, AND YES MUM I'M TALKING ABOUT YOUTO HOLD 

YOUR HAND, TO SEE YOU SMILE , TO HEAR YOUR VOICE, WOULD MAKE MY LIFE MORE 

WORTHWHILE. YOU TAUGHT ME HOW TO LIVE, BUT YOU NEVER TAUGHT ME HOW TO 

LIVE WITHOUT YOU I MISS YOU SO SO MUCH MUM, BUT THE LOVE IN MY HEART FOR YOU , WILL MAKE SURE 

YOUR LIFE , LOVE , WARMTH AND TOUCH , WILL LIVE ON FOREVER , 

IN ME I KNOW THAT YOU CHANGED ME , JUST FROM YOUR 

PRESENCE...THATS'S HOW STRONG YOU WERE MUM I KNOW YOU HAVEN'T LEFT ME , 

FOR THE LOVE IN MY HEART REMAINS , YOU WILL NEVER HAVE TO SUFFER AND YOUR 

BODY WILL FEEL NO PAIN...... GOD TOOK YOUR HAND , AND MADE US PART , HE CLOSED 

YOUR EYES , AND BROKE MY HEART ....FOR ALL THE TIMES WE HAVE BEEN TOGETHER,

I WILL NEVER FORGET YOUR FACE.

THERE IS NO MOTHER ANYWHERE LIKE YOU,

NO ONE COULD TAKE YOUR PLACE.

IF ONLY I HAD KNOWN YOU WERE LEAVING,

I GUESS I EXPECTED YOU TO FOREVER LAST,

ALL OF THE DREAMS OF US IN THE FUTURE,

ARE NOW BUT MEMORIES OF THE PAST.

GOD TAPPED YOU ON THE SHOULDER,

HE WAS THE ONLY ONE WHO KNEW,

THAT YOU WERE GOING WITH HIM,

TO THE SKY SO BEAUTIFUL BLUE.

ALTHOUGH I MAY NEVER SEE YOU MUM,

ARJAY WILL BE BY YOUR SIDE,

HE'S GONNA HOLD YOUR HAND,

AND LEAD THE WAY,

FOR HE WILL BE YOUR GUIDE.....

I LOVE YOU MY MOTHER.....
DON'T TELL ME THAT YOU UNDERSTAND, 
DON'T TELL ME THAT YOU KNOW,
DON'T TELL ME THAT I WILL SURVIVE,
HOW I WILL SURELY GROW.
DON'T TELL ME THIS IS JUST A TEST,
THAT I AM TRULY BLESSED,
THAT I AM CHOSEN FOR THIS TASK,
APART FROM ALL THE REST.
DON'T COME AT ME WITH  ANSWERS THAT CAN ONLY COME FROM ME,
DON'T TELL ME HOW MY GRIEF WILL PASS,
THAT I WILL SOON BE FREE.
DON'T STAND IN PIOUS JUDGMENT OF THE BONDS I MUST UNTIE,
DON'T TELL ME HOW TO SUFFER,
DON'T TELL ME HOW TO CRY.
MY LIFE IS FILLED WITH SELFISHNESS,
MY PAIN IS ALL I SEE,
BUT I  NEED YOU,
I NEED YOU YOUR LOVE UNCONDITONALLY.
ACCEPCT ME IN MY UPS AND DOWNS,
I NEED SOMEONE TO SHARE,
JUST TO HOLD MY HAND AND LET ME CRY,
AND SAY, MY FRIEND I REALLY DO CARE
Mom you mean the world to me
It’s hard to live without you ,You were always by my side
Through thick and thin you helped me


Details | I do not know? | |

Unashamed Self-Promotion

:-)


Greetings, good and kind fellow Soup-ers!

'Tis wonderful, I say,
to be a Soup-er, so if I may,

I humbly request you to lay down your pen dipped in fine ink,
and visit my blog which can be found at the following link:

http://afzalmoolla.wordpress.com/ 

Now if this blatant self-promoting of mine seems rude,
I ask for your generous forgiveness, dear fellow Soup-er,

And wish you a day, that is peaceful, kind, and just plain super!

So cheers from the scribbler for now,
and as I take leave, my fellow Soup-ers,
I, in courtesy, to you all, do bow!


:-)





Details | I do not know? | |

REST IN PEACE MUM ANN BROWN 18 AUG 2011

MUM ...

WHERE DO I START? I DON'T THINK THERE IS WORDS , TO EXPLAIN HOW I AM 


FEELING ABOUT THE LOSS OF YOU... BUT I WILL USE ALL THE STRENGTH YOU HAVE 


GIVEN TO ME , SO I CAN GET THESE FINAL WORDS OUT THE GUILT , SADNESS AND 

REGRET  FROM NOT SEEING YOU LIKE I WANTED TO  SO ****ING MUCH ,

 THEN THE PAIN OF NOT HAVING  A CHANCE TO SAY "GOODBYE" TO THE MOST 

BEAUTIFUL MOTHER COULD WANT, AND YES MUM I'M TALKING ABOUT YOUTO HOLD 

YOUR HAND, TO SEE YOU SMILE , TO HEAR YOUR VOICE, WOULD MAKE MY LIFE MORE 

WORTHWHILE. YOU TAUGHT ME HOW TO LIVE, BUT YOU NEVER TAUGHT ME HOW TO 

LIVE WITHOUT YOU I MISS YOU SO SO MUCH MUM, BUT THE LOVE IN MY HEART FOR YOU , WILL MAKE SURE 

YOUR LIFE , LOVE , WARMTH AND TOUCH , WILL LIVE ON FOREVER , 

IN ME I KNOW THAT YOU CHANGED ME , JUST FROM YOUR 

PRESENCE...THATS'S HOW STRONG YOU WERE MUM I KNOW YOU HAVEN'T LEFT ME , 

FOR THE LOVE IN MY HEART REMAINS , YOU WILL NEVER HAVE TO SUFFER AND YOUR 

BODY WILL FEEL NO PAIN...... GOD TOOK YOUR HAND , AND MADE US PART , HE CLOSED 

YOUR EYES , AND BROKE MY HEART ....FOR ALL THE TIMES WE HAVE BEEN TOGETHER,

I WILL NEVER FORGET YOUR FACE.

THERE IS NO MOTHER ANYWHERE LIKE YOU,

NO ONE COULD TAKE YOUR PLACE.

IF ONLY I HAD KNOWN YOU WERE LEAVING,

I GUESS I EXPECTED YOU TO FOREVER LAST,

ALL OF THE DREAMS OF US IN THE FUTURE,

ARE NOW BUT MEMORIES OF THE PAST.

GOD TAPPED YOU ON THE SHOULDER,

HE WAS THE ONLY ONE WHO KNEW,

THAT YOU WERE GOING WITH HIM,

TO THE SKY SO BEAUTIFUL BLUE.

ALTHOUGH I MAY NEVER SEE YOU MUM,

ARJAY WILL BE BY YOUR SIDE,

HE'S GONNA HOLD YOUR HAND,

AND LEAD THE WAY,

FOR HE WILL BE YOUR GUIDE.....

I LOVE YOU MY MOTHER.....
DON'T TELL ME THAT YOU UNDERSTAND, 
DON'T TELL ME THAT YOU KNOW,
DON'T TELL ME THAT I WILL SURVIVE,
HOW I WILL SURELY GROW.
DON'T TELL ME THIS IS JUST A TEST,
THAT I AM TRULY BLESSED,
THAT I AM CHOSEN FOR THIS TASK,
APART FROM ALL THE REST.
DON'T COME AT ME WITH  ANSWERS THAT CAN ONLY COME FROM ME,
DON'T TELL ME HOW MY GRIEF WILL PASS,
THAT I WILL SOON BE FREE.
DON'T STAND IN PIOUS JUDGMENT OF THE BONDS I MUST UNTIE,
DON'T TELL ME HOW TO SUFFER,
DON'T TELL ME HOW TO CRY.
MY LIFE IS FILLED WITH SELFISHNESS,
MY PAIN IS ALL I SEE,
BUT I  NEED YOU,
I NEED YOU YOUR LOVE UNCONDITONALLY.
ACCEPCT ME IN MY UPS AND DOWNS,
I NEED SOMEONE TO SHARE,
JUST TO HOLD MY HAND AND LET ME CRY,
AND SAY, MY FRIEND I REALLY DO CARE
Mom you mean the world to me
It’s hard to live without you ,You were always by my side
Through thick and thin you helped me


Details | Epic | |

I Have No Girlfriend

A girl of my choice is way too hard to find. Every time I see an attractive girl, I keep finding out that she already has a boyfriend or is happily married to her husband and has children with the guy. It breaks my heart just thinking about it. It seems that I'm trying way too hard. Maybe I'm looking too hard for this special someone. It also seems that I'm not good enough for any of the girls of my choice, let alone one girl who's about my age. Now that all of the good, attractive ones have been taken by random guys, I'm reduced to nothing. I should've met those girls by choice sooner rather than later. No matter what I do, no matter how hard I try, and no matter how many times I have to reach out to those girls from my past or whatever, I couldn't give her some St. Valentine's Day presents, let alone red roses, I couldn't ask her out on a date, I'm barely dealing with the fact that these girls each have boyfriends or happily married, and I've been rejected one too many times. I should be in a serious relationship with a girl of my choice and trust, I shouldn't spend Saturday nights in total boredom. But the fact that one of the girls I was interested in is with a guy who's way more attractive than I am makes me very sick. And no matter what I do, no matter how hard I try, it's just not enough for any of them. And since I have no girlfriend of my choice, even one of them outside my race, I'm forced to spend the rest of my life in solitude alone; thereby remaining in a real, depressive state. And every time I see a loving couple, it makes me depressed and they shove it right in my face. It's like someone had taken a butcher knife, plunged in in my chest, and yanked my heart out, killing me in an instant. I can't bear to handle this type of rejection. Well, I might as well die a virgin because there's just no point of me dealing with the fact that these girls are either happily married or already in multiple serious relationships with their current boyfriends. Being lonely and depressed and not having a female companion of my choice to talk to on a Saturday night is sad, and it's definitely pathetic. How legitimately disappointing. If I don't find me a girlfriend of my choice and I don't get married on time before my 25th or 30th birthday, I'm going to die a virgin. When will all of the rejection and the torment end? When will I stop being lonely and depressed? When will I ever learn?


Details | Free verse | |

She walks among books as if they are flowers

She walks among books as if they are flowers – 
Picking the dust from their parched leaves 
like the busy bumblebee seeking for pollen. 

Breathless – She caress the patchy pages
to feel their scent – her favored perfume, 
and the texture of their numbered petals. 

She hears the song – The Silence- with glee,
evading the moonlight in her daily course – 
No bird sings in her hallowed garden. 

No poets praise her unchanging beauty – 
but all poems she takes to herself, 
reigning lonely and terrible in her Helicon.

She is never lost but she never leaves – 
Nor greets any visitor with her pale hello, 
absently wandering near her chilly stroke. 

The seedbed is sterile, yet she still rejoices – 
Winter never leaves, Winter never arrives, 
her flowers still colorful as they never were. 

She dances – her feet barely touch the ground, 
serene –never closing her eyes – not once, 
her fortune clasped closely to her still chest. 

As a confined moth wriggling her wings in a fray
- restless – she unfolds her arms and gazes 
mirrors incapable to reflect her own pale face.  

She walks among books as if they are flowers –
Flipping their pages without rest, without break, 
in deadly splendor after every lonely midnight.


Details | I do not know? | |

My Tea Stained Heart

And written on top of my sonnet – a note…
Hey babe – working late see you soon…

All those lonely hours... 
Writing to capture the thought for what?
 A soulful rite...

My life left gashed and dripping as her aimless pen slashed my heart…

The tears cried over each line and verse...
I knew these words would  let her see...
The spark carried in this ancient soul displayed just for her...

Even a fool knows that lonely passion serves no more purpose at all...

In the end your heart stands alone...
All those tear stained pages amount to no more than landfill.

Awkward feelings trying to fit into a verse...
My angel, my love, this wounded heart...
Love knows the bounds when it all falls apart.

Heaven please accept this tea stained note for it is lost amongst the living - my heart soon to follow...


Details | I do not know? | |

Tendrils of Hope

Refusing to succumb,

to the alluring haze of self-pity,

I refuse to wallow,
in an ocean of regret,

I choose to banish thoughts of despair,

dispelling pain, while tempting joy to emerge from its shielded lair.

I shall sow the seeds of promise,

nourishing well,

the tendrils of hope,

breathing new life into my nights, my days.

I must stand, I will rise, I have to believe,

in a better tomorrow,

not perfect, nor rosy,

yet filled with tidbits of bliss,


as well as with shards of sorrow.


Details | Rhyme | |

LONELINESS

Something is missing in my life,
I feel wounded and hurt inside;
This kind of feeling is hard to bear,
I know I'll struggle just to find you there.

Just like the moon without the sun,
Light disappears as the darkness is felt by everyone;
Incompleteness is felt in the air,
As the breeze roars my cry else where.

Along the roads of nowhere,
Is an unending sorrows to suffer;
The beauty of being so left out,
Full of guilt and doubt.

As the others celebrate with glee,
I celebrate the feeling of displeased;
Where else should I go, Does anyone know?,
When will this lonely feeling of mine go?.

Though at time I learned to trust,
But was replaced with so called “mistrust”;
A laugh for joy throughout the years,
But that was before I felt this fear.

Alone so cold, no hands to hold,
Feeling of emptiness, a so called loneliness;
In the dark side of the earth and in the outside world,
“I am lonely will someone come stay with me”.


Details | Rhyme | |

The Poet's Prison

Why must a poet write such things
Of sorrow and despair?
Does he not understand he brings
The darkness with him there?

He brings a hollow lonesome wind
That chills us to our souls
Each time he waves his mournful pen
The breeze of heartache blows

For he writes with pure emotion
Where demons sometimes sleep
He will write of his devotion
He's ever reaching deep

He will write of his rejection
He lives with every day
He knows no words of affection
His mind doesn't work that way

So write on now lonely poet
And tell us of your scars
Tell us of your lonely prison
With heartache as your bars


Details | Light Poetry | |

Le Mot Juste

...inspiration from 'Preludes' by T.S. Eliot

Loose leaves rustle. 
The grey light of evening dips and sways. 
Evening birds bleat
their lonely tattoo. 
Gone are the jays and the wagtails, 
the burnt-out end of smoky days.

No fancy gadgets,
just a jar of pencils newly sharpened.
The clatter
of a typewriter
haunts the silence, like a woodpecker
seeking for nutrition, finding little.

Curtains flutter.
She's shabbily dressed and thin. 
A lonely candle sputters 
and she struggles.
Notes and erasers jostle for space,
still no inspiration will brighten her face.

Coffee and cigarettes,
vodka and tears, and none will curb her fears
of ever grasping 
white from black,
light from limbo, the curse of the damned,
the neverland that has her clammed.

One word, one spark
of enlightenment nudges her back.
Exhilaration wracks her,
electricity whacks her
like a sharp evening breeze,
and her fingers are dancing all over the keys!


Details | Enclosed Rhyme | |

In Lonely Tears, I Pray


O Lord, to you, I come today;
Fruits of my lips, I bring;
Hymns of praises, to you, I sing; 
In lonely tears, I pray. 

Yet worthy not I am, I ask
Have mercy on my soul; 
Lord, despise not my every call;
‘Tis life, to you, I trust. 

O Lord, to you, I come today;
Keep me, from vanity;
For in peace, where I longed to be;
In lonely tears, I pray. 







Details | Ballad | |

A MESSAGE SENT

One smile 
to her... 
Message sent 

One touch 
to him... 
Message sent 

One look 
an open book... 
Message sent 

Such a lonely world, 
yet billions of messages sent 
Everyday... 
What they meant 
What they should 
What they say 

Reach out today, 
a message to send 
To a lonely one, 
family, 
a friend 
What you can say 

Such warmth, 
to travel far, 
in a heart star 
In a message, 
sent to you 
Given today 

A message sent... 
For you... 
For me... 
What it all meant