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Rangzeb Hussain Mar 2010
My silent love and longing  for you remains
forever doomed and upon my tongue chained

I could never sing the few magic words
that would have given me the wings of a bird

Heavy and dull was the ache in my heart
whenever we two friends were worlds apart

Your red hair and autumn hued celtic voice
will forever  charm my mind's haunted place

I miss you, my first and only  love,
Fear froze me and dined upon my dove

You traveled continents and soundly slept
whilst I in deep valleys of remorse daily wept

My soul mate my cerebral ache for you is still bright
I blame myself for turning my love into a mute blight



©Rangzeb Hussain
Rangzeb Hussain Mar 2010
Be not afraid...

My true heart, may you stay strong,
The jagged edge of a broken champagne glass
gently kisses my love’s wrist,
Her blade of glass drowns between the lines of blood,
She offers a rare gift, it is the silent music of her soul,
Life blood red as rubies sold,
It flows from veins still fresh with love’s eternal truth.

Be not afraid...

Man is the cruellest animal,
He plays games of hot desire and sticky traps,
Like bee to honey are girls attracted to Love’s dreadful fall,
The only good heart a Man has
is the one he rips from a Woman,
Man tramples, kills and destroys with his blind lust,
It is Woman who generates the creation of newborn beauty,
Man thou art but a false-hearted beast.

Be not afraid...

Remember your strength and never give up the fight,
The individual has always had to struggle
to keep from being buried under the tribe,
If you try it, you will be lonely often,
and sometimes frightened,
Out there in the cold no ear listens,
Born crying from the womb, only a few die smiling.

Be not afraid...

No price is too high
to pay for the freedom of owning yourself,
Too costly is the price of living in a cage,
You need chaos in your soul
to give birth to a dancing star,
Children of love’s revolution
are sacrificed in the summer solstice harvest fields.

Be not afraid...

There is always some madness in love,
But there is also always some reason in madness,
Beware the thorns amongst the gold red rose,
In the shadow of the wall
Men become monsters,
Flowers twist into barbed wire,
Tear down this wall of deceit and lies.

Be not afraid...

For Death shall never conquer Love,
Where be thy sting, Death?
Grave thou hast no victory!
Every breath we take is a step closer to Death,
In the kiss of Death we finally wake up
from the hollow dream of life,
In the cold twilight my love all alone she sits.

Be not afraid...

Dance with darkness to find the diamond light,
Fear eats the soul,
It dines on your desires and drinks your hopes,
Out there it waits, in the dim edge of your day to day,
Come my love, as the hour ticks by and bye,
I will wait for you by the gates from beyond the edge of reason,
There will my love find her heart’s true desire.

Be not afraid...

Take good care of yourself,
My lady of the crystal lake,
Below these wintery waters swims
a world more precious than air,
Here, take my hand, hold me tight
as we two take to the lake for one last time,
No crying do we want at our going, only songs of bitter joy.

Be not afraid...*



©Rangzeb Hussain
Rangzeb Hussain Mar 2010
My rooted feet are caked in blood brown mud
yet my head gazes upon the wonders of the rainbow sky,
I offer up my prayers with thorny crowned palms
and wait as the seasons savagely storm those who have died,
The years of hate have arrived all very calm,
Behind them lie the gliding galleons of well oiled gold.

O hear my pain of wingless hope,
Gales blast me,
Hail crushes,
Tears deeply drawn from the depths of a dead headstone
are soon licked dry by the Sun’s passionate caresses,
My land burns and drowns in War’s choking smoke.

Red as the early song of dawn’s new dew
is my dream this music of black swans bleeding chants of healing,
My petals shiver and away they float leaving me bare and exposed,
Here I am then, pure as the day I was recklessly seeded,
My life balanced upon the kiss of a crushed nightingale’s hopes,
Hearts of diamond stones my graveyard beyond yonder due.

Where be the desire of Valentine which once tore into St. Sebastian
upon the scorched red Roman rust behind the Coliseum’s hated gates?
No rose dares grow there,
Trojan Cassandra looked to the sightless fates
and see how mercilessly they dealt her,
My roots forever ****** to be fertilized upon coffined carcasses.



©Rangzeb Hussain
Rangzeb Hussain Mar 2010
King Rat gnawed at the piece of wood for to bite and dine!
God's pure name was inscribed upon the battered sign,
But King Rat continued to snack like it was the flesh of freshly caught cod,

What was this then, maybe Rat was God?

Aha, oh no, but along came slinky Mistress Cat!
So quick and nimble was she, up she snapped and gobbled up fat King Rat,
She licked her lips upon a fallen slab of greasy salty lard,

What was this then, maybe Mistress Cat was God?

Aha, oh no, but along came faithful Master Dog!
Away he chased crafty Mistress Cat into the swampy mired bog,
Hardworking Master Dog surveyed his domain and his tail stood up to attention like a rigid rod,

What was this then, maybe Master Dog was God?

Aha, oh no, but along came Chief Wolf!
He bites and shakes hard into the collar of Master Dog, the neck tears like fleecy wool,
Blood ran down Chief Wolf's chin and he smiled with victory as he sat down by the warm coal road,

What was this then, maybe Chief Wolf was God?

Aha, oh no, but along came the Queen of Fire!
Into Chief Wolf she passionately burns, into ashes was he burnt upon her sultry bed of burning pyre,
The gleaming Queen of Fire burned with glowing glory, there was red life yet in her pulsating bud,

What was this then, maybe the Queen of Fire was God?

Aha, oh no, but along came a river of Mighty Water!
The fiery Queen of Fire hisses and fizzles and soon she is nothing more than steam, all slaughtered,
Mighty Water flows vast and rampant, he rules his oceanic valley just like a pea in a pod,

What was then, maybe Mighty Water was God?

Aha, oh no, but along came a pure-hearted Man!
Very thirsty was he and so away he gulps and guzzles the Mighty Water in the glen,
He channels the Mighty Water to quench his dry farmlands, this was indeed a smart farming lad,

What was this then, maybe Man was God?

Aha, oh no, but along went the Man licking a ripe red cherry ****!
Into the hallowed building of prayer he does go and gently picks up the Rat bitten name of God,
Down falls the Man upon his knees, he prays, he bows, he silently nods, he wishes his soul was resting in the blissful garden of his beloved God,

What was this then? Maybe...

God

IS

God!




©Rangzeb Hussain
Rangzeb Hussain Mar 2010
Said the Prince unto his raven-haired Lady as he rode and galloped away,
He leaned back and this is what he had to say:
“Beware the moor, beware the fog, beware the nightly shadow of Jack O’Lantern!
Be concerned! Lock and bolt the door until I return.”

Jack O’Lantern prowls and haunts the frosted hills hunting to ****** for fresh meat.
This monster, this dark beast creeps down from upon the heath!
Beware the moor, beware the fog, beware the nightly shadow of Jack O’Lantern!
Be concerned! Lock and bolt the door until I return.

“Where be the Lord of this warm and happy house?” says Jack O’Lantern with claws tapping.
“Gone to London town,” says the Nurse the coins from Jack receiving.
Beware the moor, beware the fog, beware the nightly shadow of Jack O’Lantern!
Be concerned! Lock and bolt the door until I return.

“Where be the lovely Lady of this house?” smiles Jack O’Lantern mouth full of jagged teeth.
“She’s in her red chamber,” says the Nurse asking for a treat.
Beware the moor, beware the fog, beware the nightly shadow of Jack O’Lantern!
Be concerned! Lock and bolt the door until I return.

“Where be the delightful baby of the house?” says Jack O’Lantern purring like a cat.
“Asleep in the cradle,” says the Nurse accepting Jack’s gold sack.
Beware the moor, beware the fog, beware the nightly shadow of Jack O’Lantern!
Be concerned! Lock and bolt the door until I return.

“We will pinch him, we will ***** him, we will stab him with a long pin!
Nurse, you will hold the basin for the blood all to run in.”
Beware the moor, beware the fog, beware the nightly shadow of Jack O’Lantern!
Be concerned! Lock and bolt the door until I return.

So they pinched him and they pricked him, then they stabbed him with a very sharp pin.
The false Nurse did hold the basin for the blood all to run in.
Beware the moor, beware the fog, beware the nightly shadow of Jack O’Lantern!
Be concerned! Lock and bolt the door until I return.

“Lady, come down the stairs, come drink this tasty gin,” says Jack O’Lantern dripping sin.
“How can I see thee in the dark?” says the Lady unto him.
Beware the moor, beware the fog, beware the nightly shadow of Jack O’Lantern!
Be concerned! Lock and bolt the door until I return.

“I have silver bracelets and rings fashioned out of gold,” says Jack O’Lantern bowing.
“Lady, pray sail down the stairs and come see them glowing.”
Beware the moor, beware the fog, beware the nightly shadow of Jack O’Lantern!
Be concerned! Lock and bolt the door until I return.

Down the stairs the radiant Lady gently glided without alarm, thinking there to be no harm.
Black-eyed Jack stood ready to snap her in his arms.
Beware the moor, beware the fog, beware the nightly shadow of Jack O’Lantern!
Be concerned! Lock and bolt the door until I return.

There is blood in the kitchen and blood on the chamber floor, there is blood also in the hall.
There is blood upon the open door and blood upon the wall.
Beware the moor, beware the fog, beware the nightly shadow of Jack O’Lantern!
Be concerned! Lock and bolt the door until I return.

There is slippery blood in the parlour and bedroom too where the Lady did slip and fall.
Now Jack will be caught and hanged and punished in hell’s hall.
Beware the moor, beware the fog, beware the nightly shadow of Jack O’Lantern!
Be concerned! Lock and bolt the door until I return.

And the false Nurse will be broken and burnt in the fire raging scarlet and black.
Said the Prince unto his Lady dead as he rode back:
“Beware the moor, beware the fog, beware the nightly shadow of Jack O’Lantern!
O why did you unlock the door? My heart will now forever twist and turn!”
Inspired by a traditional Folk song which has been sung and rearranged by many artists over the years.
Rangzeb Hussain Mar 2010
Who is that rides so late in the forest so dark and wild?
It is but a helpless father and his frightened and lonely child,
The wind blows sharp and cold,
Hush! Listen quietly as this tragic tale is told.

The father cradles his lovely son gently in his arms,
He keeps him snug and he keeps him warm and he keeps him calm,
The wind blows sharp and cold,
Hush! Listen quietly as this tragic tale is told.

“My son, why do you wrap your radiant face in such dread and fear?”
“Mine father, can you not see the Erl-King? He draws ever so near!”
The wind blows sharp and cold,
Hush! Listen quietly as this tragic tale is told.

“O father! The Erl-King with his weedy crown and thorns of pain is here!”
“My son, it is nothing more than mist and rain on the plain over there.”
The wind blows sharp and cold,
Hush! Listen quietly as this tragic tale is told.

“Sweet lad, O come into my jolly lair and join me, do!
Many pretty and joyful games do I promise to play with you.”
The wind blows sharp and cold,
Hush! Listen quietly as this tragic tale is told.

On the forest floor the autumn flowers die in the suffocating cold.
“O you dreaming lad, I have for you garments of red silk dyed in gold.”
The wind blows sharp and cold,
Hush! Listen quietly as this tragic tale is told.

“Mine father, mine father, can you not hear my rising fear?
The Erl-King drips dark promises and breathes in my ear! Help me, father dear!”
The wind blows sharp and cold,
Hush! Listen quietly as this tragic tale is told.

“Be calm, stay calm, rest my child, stay easy and keep your head low,
In these withered leaves it is only the night winds that creep and roar.”
The wind blows sharp and cold,
Hush! Listen quietly as this tragic tale is told.

“My rosy lipped lad, will you come take a merry stroll and dine with me?
My daughters three shall care for you and many wonders will you see.”
The wind blows sharp and cold,
Hush! Listen quietly as this tragic tale is told.

“My silky daughters of darkness live in yonder castle in shadows deep,
They three will dance and sing and cradle you to the sweetest of sleep.”
The wind blows sharp and cold,
Hush! Listen quietly as this tragic tale is told.

“Mine father, mine father, O can you not see the red eyes in his fearful face?
The Erl-King’s misty-eyed daughters live in that haunted place!"
The wind blows icy cold,
Hush! Listen quietly as this tragic tale is told.

“My son, my son, I see the frozen milky moon very clear
And how the ancient weeping willows like castles in the dark do appear.”
The wind blows sharp and cold,
Hush! Listen quietly as this tragic tale is told.

“O how delicious you smell, my tender innocent succulent boy!
Come off that horse and take these wonderfully coloured bright toys.”
The wind blows sharp and cold,
Hush! Listen quietly as this tragic tale is told.

“O father, my father, the Erl-King has seized me by the arm!
His long bony claws crawl toward my heart to do to me hungry harm.”
The wind blows sharp and cold,
Hush! Listen quietly as this tragic tale is told.

The father whips and rides fast but his warm cottage is away by a mile,
In his arms he holds the groaning, twisting, shivering child,
The wind blows sharp and cold,
Hush! Listen quietly as this tragic tale is told.

The horse halts outside the family home and the father looks with dread
For his son, his only child, he holds in his arms is now dead!
The wind blows sharp and cold,
Hush! Weep quietly as this tragic tale is now all told.
Inspired by the work of Johann Wolfgang von Goethe and Franz Schubert.
Rangzeb Hussain Mar 2010
At this late hour you ache for Eden’s precious priceless peace,
Shy shame pecked you until you recklessly plucked forsaken fruit
from yonder randomly ravished tree,
You no more sleep sweetly in deep dreams
with your beautiful bountiful luscious lovely turtledove,
Tintoretto’s golden lipped asp is now by you so poorly pawned.

You day by day wastefully just joke away
with an old cloaked crone already fertilized, discarded yet owned,
It makes me want to croak cry
how this age old dastardly liar desperately detains you,
He is but a shallow sinking stinking tainted tyrant
with a hundred thousand hidden talented talons.

His moist mobile tongue ensnares you
from dewy dawn down to darkened dusk,
He is nothing more than a tasteless thankless fat figureless fig,
His contorted contours all folded fool’s flesh
and insides as empty as dusty dried rotten garlic,
He truly is sinfully seeded and begotten love’s handicapped lie.

He has tightly tied his bearded corded coils
round about the pure purse of your emotional riches,
Even though there is no fragrant flower nor creamy silky milk
inside the horizontal trunk of his bloated body
you still pin ***** for a crust of vertical ***** joy,
Your promiscuous ***** red rose brings baleful blight upon your pure soul.

Death will wise wide prise open your poor glazed grazed eyes
to what his false face really is:
A murky mournful mountain of hideous crags
filled with black broken backed snails,
The roots of his treacherous tree burrow into your fine feathers,
He means to have and hold more than just you.

No more morbid advice.

Let yourself be silently drawn
by the stronger pull of your original lost love,
There, in the distant future yet to birth, comes days of the pearly past,
Embrace them, those were the songs sung in the halls of summer long gone,
Birds of prey, birds of paradise, birds of every colour and hue,
Just remember to keep well away from the wizened vulture with the bloodshot eyes.



©Rangzeb Hussain
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