I befriend the antonyms of the light
Now the face of the night won't let me go
No matter what I do, even with all my might
So have no choice but to dance with the flow

I am a man who ate the forbidden apples
Indeed the wisdom of the dark was among the highest
Definitely a door to the unknown, until I am longing for riffles
Because I can take the lies of reality no more, such lunacies

Life was supposed to be a thankful journey
A sweet dance from hello's to farewell
Lucky are those who've found serenity
Who hasn't heard the music of hell

I've been too far, my clock is ticking in a cycle of forever
I need a reformat not just a simple reboot
Do not save any good files, that's not so clever
All parts of me was already been infected even to the root

I befriend the antonyms of the light
Now the face of the night won't let me go
No matter what I do, even with all my might
So have no choice but to dance with the flow...


Written: March 4, 2015 @11:00am

Mysterious Aries

There is nothing darker than the putrid soul of your heart
Crusted by burnt desires and pyroclastic ash
Tortured by your existence, dipped into the hells of mankind

Bubbling skin and singed mercy embrace me whole
Turn up flames and burn me alive
Hear my screams ****** your mind

Cast me out of the dead, for I am not leaving
Laid in a forever coma then awakened
Pompeii is dead, Pompeii is dead, Pompeii is dead

With this pen
I fulfilled my dream
and a whole new people
in my own image
materialized in a once silent abode
and let there be laughter and dance
With this pen
I evoked images from the depths of life
and created unending literary melodies
From one pen oozed the seed of life
and from the other came the stamp of eternity
that made everything perpetual and precious

I sneak inside your mind
and tiptoe amongst
the broken glass
skirting around
disassociated thoughts
watching arguments
you thought you lost
sitting in the bleachers
of the upper reaches
of your subconsciousness

I find
I'm not the only spectator
that dwells within
your mind

you sit next to me
****** bare feet
you whisper softly
you're in for a treat

See that white knight
upon that fiery steed
that's you
waiting, for me

Waiting for the battle
sitting so calm
here I come
upon the darkest horse
ready to do you harm

I sat quietly in the stands
of your twisted tournament
holding onto your hand
waiting for spears to rend
skin from flesh
tear flesh from bone
waiting for blood to pour
from an empty wound

but the white knight
did not advance
just sat quietly
in saddle
waiting for a chance
for the black knight
to fall, stricken by
a ghostly lance
It was the white knights
chance, to catch him
as he tumbled
and fell

and there I dwell
inside your mind
you tumbled and fell
*I caught you in time

Hey,
I know it's hard
But I need you
Please stay

Hey,
I know you've been hurt
But I will never leave you
Please hold on

Hey,
I can't promise it will be okay
But I try to make it that way
Please keep going

Hey,
You're my best friend
I need you
Please, please stay
Stay here with me
I need you

Hey,
Let's make it okay together

Compassionate. Giving.
Loving. Living.
Dying. Sinning.
Sinking. Swimming.
Losing. Winning.
Birth.
Now.
I'm beginning.

~~
In the Stars Fair
Sometimes it's falling
Lost in the dark

My love,
Mingles with millions of stars
Same but hundreds of thousands of light in the line

Who are given
What I have found
But all I have taken

Among thee who am I
Even where are you
Or maybe known to me as the North Star

Lost within everyone
Beyond the known path
Apart from the light

Footprints fade out in the same path
Still spots on the shadows
Even yet it's called the galaxy
~~
@ Musfiq us shaleheen

Reading poems is the way of discovering
that people  write for fun, they write of
the very things that you think preposterous.
They write of love, and you write of hate.
Poetry is in many ways charade of indiscipline,
even gross indignity. Gives you joy rides and goose
bumps. Why do people write- poetry?
I deliberate and out of it curse people, write a poem
send it for publication. The laptop creaks. The editor whines
when flooded by my irksome mails.

In the streets of the city, and there are plenty, I see a rag picker.
I see the *****.
I see the blinded with begging bowl, but singing. Chanting.
I see barely seven or eight a child pleading for coins and mercy.
I stalk away. Walk away. My hauteur a new demeanour.

Why do people write- poetry?

A friend,
Who’s Godly,
Smart, and
Genuine.
A friend is a hand to lend.
A friend is a person you don’t have to make
Pretend.
A friend will never make your life
Bend.
So thank you friend, for being my
Friend.
Its because of you why I smiled so many
Grins.
A Friend.



-Marci H.