By Imran Ahmed
A Man Runs Wild Fierce And Proud
Head Held High Lost In The Crowd,
Chasing Dreams Too Far To Hold
Like Rain That Slips Through Fingers Cold,
A Dog Behind A Moving Wheel
Blind To Truth Deaf To Appeal,
It Runs And Runs But All In Vain
The Chase Is Endless Filled With Pain,
Some Roads Lead Nowhere Yet We Fight
Some Battles Fade Into The Night,
Oh Stubborn Heart Let Wisdom Grow
Not Every Wind Is Meant To Blow,
For What Is Ours Will Find Its Way
And What Is Lost Was Never Meant To Stay.
In secret gardens, far from sight,
I shed the masks I wear in light.
No eyes to judge, no voice to guide,
Just whisper of the self inside.
The whisper which wishes to reside in every heart,
i am the resonating echo of that restless void.
I wander, seeking light in the darkness,
I've heard I am the source of that very light.
Since I began to bear the weight of suffering,
Life has turned somewhat sweet, dear soul.
The poet's treasure is his precious grief,
That's why I weave garlands of tears.
In hidden paths, our souls unwind,
The tender parts, the raw, unkind.
The fears we guard, the dreams we hide,
All rise to meet the open sky.
Who are we then, beneath the stars,
Without the weight of who we are?
In secret gardens, free, we stand,
The truest self, with open hands.
No need for words, no need for form,
In quiet stillness, we transform.
We are the seed, the root, the flame,
Untouched by pride, untouched by name.
In that still place, where shadows bend,
We find ourselves, and there we mend.
For in the garden, we are whole—
A timeless truth, our deepest soul.
floating on waves
my boat anchored in the bay
sunlight growing dim
to my restless soul
the sea played a lullaby
I joined in the song
reflecting on life
I suddenly felt serene
content with nature
Restless souls yearn for more
Immorality is their final score
For how do you last the years
Does it temper your lasting fears
Do you worry about judgment
When your life is weighed for what it’s meant
For each of us has failed sometime
Would the outcome be judged as kind
For what have you stood for
Yourself or has there been more
Than there was at the time
Judgement can be so unkind.
© Paul Warren Poetry
Eventually, many centuries have passed
In the hopeless desire to uncover
This hidden pain.
And, in the shower of unpredictable love
The barren land of my restless soul
Will nourish again.
Maybe today or tomorrow, the blank pages
Of the unwritten book will shine
With pearl-like words.
Along with, the doors of unlocked cages,
Locked with a secret code will reopen
For imprisoned birds.
The day is about to come, which is expected in the unexpected world
Perhaps like a fraud.
So, call up all your subdued kith and kins,
To kill that blood soaking trauma
With your sword.
Restless soul what do you seek
Not resting as you search to keep
The things that complete your life
Always wanting sugar and spice
Eternally you continue to strive
Not to be alone or unsatisfied
The sour notes found in your journey
Will not curry you in your story.
© Paul Warren Poetry
Wandering feet never do know respite,
for wander they must, far as they might.
An unintended consequence,
husband, child, white picket fence.
There are places to be,
wondrous sights to see.
My restless soul,
never whole.
Scars made,
fade.
poems are the words that weave
that float above the clouds
they pierce the heart where hauntings live
to serve the fateful proud
should shadows fall upon the scene
to darken the amber light
poems read to heal the heart
will shorten the longing night
when mornings rise and eyes are still
when memories are gleaned
would chasing rainbows in the mind
fill the void between
read the poem with purposed cause
and heal the broken heart
let the poet cast his net
fill your restless soul with art
poetry's purpose
to calm the restless soul
contest Ars Poetica
6/18/15
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