"...and in the depths of silky darkness,
yet there was the brightest of lights,
in those jewels that are the eyes,
there rests the soul..."*



©Rangzeb Hussain

We

are

all

living

under

the

threat

of

Death,

Rich

or

Poor,

Black

or

White,

Christian

or

Jew,­

we

are

all

doomed

for

to

die,

no

one

can

run

or

hide,

go

ahead

I

dare

you

to

try

...



©Rangzeb Hussain

I hold her gently and I hold her still,
She grows cold and still in my iron hard fist,
She still swims in the cells of my dead and drowning mind,

Still…

The summer has come
And the summer has long gone,
Taking with it her symphony of yesterday’s songs,

Still…

I smell her rose red essence,
Still as fresh as a summer’s bygone day,
Her memories float over the dry and sharp jagged thorns,

Still…

Everything in time will be silent,
No more will I hear her light footsteps,
Yet I still hear her soft weeping in my suicidal screams.

Fall
in Love,
Fallen
in Love,
Fell
in Love.



©Rangzeb Hussain

Autumn light,
It shines bright,
Look how it delights,
It showers and ignites.

Then...

In the blink of coming night
The bright light
Becomes twilight,
And we fade from life's sight.

“The rains of Autumn are here,
They make wet my face
and hide well yesterday’s tears,
I will forsake all my smiles
and in the evening shadows
my life will wither and hide.”

Domestic Violence...

Those who perpetrate this crime are ****,
Those who turn a blind eye to it are society's social ****,
Those who defend it on cultural grounds are ****,
Those who use religion to hide the crime are ****,
Those who inflict guilt and shame upon the victim are ****,
Those who shelter and protect the perpetrators are ****,
Those who pass laws and then fail to help the victims are ****,
Those who gag and degrade the victims are ****,
****,
****,
****.

This is what Churchill
and his cabinet did to Dresden,
Total apocalypse,
A city reduced to rubble,
And families burnt to smoking ash.

We are doomed to repeat
the savagery and
barbarism of the past,
Skin and bone,
Glass and broken stones.

Anyone who supports attacks
on fellow human beings,
or defends mass ******,
Or speaks in favour of further bloodletting,
they are truly enemies of the human race.

Our world has suffered for too long,
Those who sell weapons,
You who profit from bullets and ****** bones,
and those who profit from igniting wars,
they are the ones who degrade us all.

What will we tell our children?

They call him Malik,
‘Mad’ Malik,
In the streets he tiptoes and dances,
From cold of dawn
to the dark of dusk,
He weaves and swings to beats,
On streets corners and by bus stops,
He shouts and sings,
Cars brake hard and drivers wave and smile.

In sun, wind or rain,
In storm, heatwave, and in the shade,
This man is the spirit of our streets,
His zesty zany jiving
It touches black and white,
It reaches young and old,
He makes us stop and pause,
Call him what you may,
But in his heart he hears music of the soul.

A rare human indeed,
Not one to be chained in an office,
Not one to run the rat race,
Not one to follow orders or conform,
He dares to do what others dream,
He dares to scream in the rain,
He dares to taste snowflakes,
Freedom wild and uncontained,
‘Mad’ Malik long may you dance away human pain.

Her name was Razan Ashraf Abdul Qadir al-Najjar,
From 7am till 8pm she helped the injured,
Tending to them on the fields of freedom.

This was her weapon,
Her white medical coat,
Now stained with her life’s blood.

“Her only weapon was her medical vest,”
Her Mother’s voice drowns in pain,
“She may have been small, but she was strong.”

The last time she saw her daughter,
“She stood up and smiled at me,
She flew like a bird in front of me.”

The angel of mercy,
Her goal was to save lives,
And offer relief to the wounded.

Her arms raised high to show she was unarmed,
She approached a victim lying upon the ground,
But the ******’s trigger only knew the language of hatred.

And a bullet blinked hard and fast,
The wrath of the single butterfly bullet was so brutal
It ruptured into three other medics.

A bullet designed to explode upon impact,
It lacerates and pulverises bone and tissue,
The Devil’s Banned Bullet.

It was a Friday,
In the month of Ramadan,
When the desert sand drank her blood.

A weeping Mother kisses a jacket
Stained with her daughter’s blood,
“I wish I could have seen her in her white wedding dress.”

Only the songs of lamentations now,
Grief shrieks through the streets without water,
And the world watches in censored silence.

I pray for the end of the violence of anger,
No more knives, guns, bullets, or slayings,
Put aside the hatred that corrodes your soul,
Skulls grow upon the pathways of brutality,
The infection of cruelty spreads everywhere,

Live your life, enjoy your time, be at peace,
Look towards the days of solace and light,
Remember the love of the Eternal Beloved,
We are all one, black or white, me and you,
One day, today or tomorrow, you will know.

"...and her innocence,
torn and clawed,
it bled and dripped,
the tatters of her childhood flapped away
into the misty layers of life's hooded forest..."

There was Love,
and there was Trust,
and there was a child of Hope,
Peace glittered upon the jewels of Life.

International Women’s Day,
Let it be a day of celebration and hope,
of peace and life,
and of real love that knows
no borders, race, or creed,
A day of humanity, charity, and friendship,
Let it not be a day of regret,
sadness, or broken bones.

Too often,
under an avalanche of chocolate and flowers,
of shattered dreams
and torrents of lies and abuse,
people forget the real grace,
strength, contribution,
and importance of Women.

A horizon rises with man made towers,
Concrete buildings lacerating the sky,

And through it all nature watches,
The grass of ages blows in the wind of tears,

Man walks in a landscape all alone,
Weeping for the days before the darkness,

So many questions grieve inside the heart,
And a savage silence engulfs the soul of a city.

From the crack of cold dawn,
With a wheelbarrow trudging along,
On roads bitten by frost,
He would whistle on his way to work.

This gentle man,
A voice husky with Irish gold,
He would smile and talk,
His kindness for one and all.

One winter’s day, on a crowded bus,
He got up and made room
for my Mother and my Aunt,
He cemented his humanity into all of us.

The local kids knew him,
The streets and roads knew him,
We all knew him,
And he was trusted by all who knew him.

Tonight, the streets are silent,
Tonight, the tarmac is wet with tears,
Tonight, there is a song in heaven,
Tonight, a gentle man has left us.

The white feathers sail through the winter's whispers,
It is the bird of hope,
She is the dove of joy and love's peace too,
Her music carries the pure blood of the red rose,
In her beak she carries a message older than the universe,
It reads...
*"Humanity,
Drink from my cup,
Dip your heart in my love,
And rise to sing the glory of peace,
The child of mercy has been born.
I am the herald of the New Year.
The majestic Beloved, my eternal maker,
His music sings of the brotherhood of nations."

O, my eternal Beloved, my lamp,
Let your winter moon bring peace,

Our world seeks the light of healing,
We have seen the brutality of hate,

People yearn for the warmth of love,
Let all intolerance be swept far away.

A cold wind chills my face
as I stand on the high ridge of the cemetery,
This, here, on the grass beneath the old oak,
This is where my heart now sleeps,

Mother, she rests here.

Across her resting place, a few steps away,
Near the line of trees is the children’s cemetery,
Mother loved the sound of children,
The laughter, the energy,
The swirl of movement,

On some days, towards the dusk of a day,
I sometimes hear the wind,
And it twinkles though the branches,
The gentle breeze sounds like a chorus
of children at play in the fields of the Beloved,

This music, and this air,
This place, and this moment,
It has a peace,
And it has Mother’s warm smile,
That was her message to me,
A smile, she would say, brings light to our world,

We have no borders,
No barriers,
No divisions or colours,
We are the lovers of humanity,
That was her message,

Mother’s Day is not about flowers,
Or about chocolates,
Or cards and perfume,
Mother’s Day means ‘Life’,
Embrace Life,
The hour is getting colder
And time is friend to no one,
Remember Life.

For the Refugees who have lost their all,
For the Homeless who are abandoned,
For the Forsaken who have no one,
For the Voiceless who go unheard,
For the Loveless who grieve for trust,
For the Dead who perished in poverty's fire,
For the Orphans who dream no more,
For the Betrayed who died far from home,
For Humanity in a time of mass poison.

When things go wrong…

We cast blame,
We heap accusations,
We shovel suspicion,
We hurl abuse,
We point fingers,
We spit doubt.

Oh God, why war?
Oh God, why ******?
Oh God, why famine?
Oh God, why sickness?
Oh God, why poverty?
Oh God, why injustice?

When things work out…

We award ourselves,
We praise ourselves,
We celebrate ourselves,
We toast ourselves,
We pat ourselves,
We acknowledge ourselves.

I did it,
I did it all,
I did this,
I did that,
I did,
I did.

Did you, really?

Cassius,
Muhammad,
Human,

Fighter,
Revolutionary,
Poet,

Fear never knew you,
Hate never knew you,
Anger never knew you,

Love knew you,
Peace knew you,
Charity knew you,

You gave us hope,
You gave us trust,
You gave us unity,

We all know you,
We all love you,
We all miss you,

Be at rest gentle soul,
Be at peace sweet soul,
Sleep the sleep of champions.

Today, far away from the headlines,
In the distant cover of sand and media oblivion,
A nation is targeting the orphans of forgotten villages,
The average age of the culled population is seventeen.

One of the world’s most advanced military war machines
Is daily incinerating the flowers of a deleted generation,
Whole areas reduced to smoking rubble and jagged bones,
This is a butcher’s paradise where schools are turned into abattoirs.

This genocide has been silenced by the complicit newsrooms,
Those who dare to speak out are condemned as traitors to patriotism,
Politicians and world speakers dance the sermon of inhuman lies,
All the while the children have their lives and dreams bled out of them.

In a hospital that was pulverized by an American gifted missile,
Little two-year old Maha clings to what remains of her fractured life,
Her glazed eyes are circled black like a Panda’s patches
Because shrapnel made a home inside her skull and spine.

Remember them...

They were soldiers once upon a time,
They fought so we could live in better times,

Remember them...

Many of them died far from their families and homes,
Many of them came back with scars and broken bones,

Remember them...

They are old, and fast marching time is not on their side,
They are old, please help them live with dignity and pride,

Remember them...

If some Mother could see this now,
And know that her child slept here,
In a tight shed of death and decay,
What would she say?
How would you answer her tears?
Would you dare to meet her gaze?

This is a place of eternal sleeping,
Of wrapping dreams in asbestos,
Cockroaches and leeches reign here,
Those who weep here are ghosts,
The fingerprint of torture marks them,
They have no name, only merciless pain.

Through the window a waxy light leaks in,
Casting wispy streaks across a damp floor,
Each step squelching on the moist moss,
The air is stained with invisible cancer,
This is a cell where Death throws his dice,
The squares of life are fragmented here.

*** ends, broken bottles, needles, empty cans,
Torn rags, and shoes with holes and no laces,
Peeling plaster, and electrical veins exposed,
Razor blades clogged with bloodied hair,
Hope, broken and cracked, smoked and gone,
Fear lurks in every corner, all teeth and claws.

Four claustrophobic walls, doors crushing in,
Held together with the glue of desperation,
This is a house, a bed, a self-made coffin,
No radiators of home and comfort here,
No hope, no form, no fixed abode, no nothing,
They who snuggle here are by poverty ravaged.

Still, through the bitter hunger,
Through the dirt and the daily thirst,
Through the headline of stagnant lies,
Upon the table something yet shines,
In a world of black and white,
The colour of Truth brightly shines.

For those who never came back,
For those who were told fragrant lies,
For those who once dreamt of peace,
For those who sleep in forgotten soil,

For those who left behind fresh faced roses,
For those who waved away weeping mothers,
For those who sang the dying hymns of life,
For those who once farmed and tilled the land,

For those who slipped and fell in spiked ditches,
For those who danced with bayonets and bullets,
For those who serenaded the shrieking shells,
For those who drank and sank in slippery trenches,

For those whose bones bleach in desert dust,
For those whose blood and hopes were betrayed,
For those whose lives line the poppy and flags,
For those whose souls were sacrificed for us all,

*For them there is no today, only yesterday…

The message was not racism and slavery,
The message was not lies and daily news fakery,

The message was not war and plunder,
The message was not hate and ******,

The message was not walls and invasions,
The message was not hypocrisy and devastation,

The message was not flags and borders,
The message was not chaos and disorder,

The message was not hot cross buns and chocolate bunnies,
The message was not idols and money,

The message was family and humanity,
The message was love and unity.

I am the wrath of inhumanity,
The heart of dead eyed hatred,
I am the devourer of nations,
I will rupture hopes and bones
and strip the magic from dreams,
I swim inside you all.

Mankind stares into the abyss
of madness, chaos, and anger,
It slithers and divides us,
The leviathan of ignorance eyes us,
Something in the dark depths stirs,
It will sink and drown us all.

Unless…

Unless…

Unless…

I have seen emperors fall,
And I have seen empires crumble,
I have felt the tears of history,
And I have bled the blood of nations,
I have witnessed slavery,
And I have watched freedom die,
I know the silence of a hollow heart,
And I know the pain of memory,
I stand here mute and cold,
But one day I will dare to speak,
Fear me on that dread day...

Days of darkness loom
and the land shivers with dread
while the headlines blister with hate.

In these unknown times
the shadows claw at the truth
and the nation reeks of paranoia.

Know this…

Love will walk again in my nation,
Hands of friendship shall warm us,
and the light of unity will heal us all.

Our children will ask,
They will point to us,
And their eyes will see our souls,

What will we tell them?
We kept silent as the world fell apart,
We let monsters scare away our freedom.

In a world rotting with death,
Piled high with decay and mess,
In a land where flags are flesh,
Where the carrion crows fly,
The birds of Freedom die,
Their nests encrusted with lies,
Our Earth coughs and withers,
Our birds float on dead rivers,
Our nation with fear shivers.

The tides of Easter twilight,
In these skies glowing with colour
I see an eternal message,
It speaks of a love deeper than time,
This is the music of humanity,
Remember each other,
And kiss the lips of peace.

A city burns,
a road to hell opens,
and in that fire and fury,
comes a judgement older than time.

I spent a few hours with a kindred spirit today,
and I was energized by the hope
and positive energy she spread.

A gentle soul like hers is living proof
that no matter how dark our world becomes,
there is still light and compassion.

The world is getting colder,
getting ever darker,
and becoming ever more violent.  

If each one of us reaches out to the person next to us,
and strikes up a few words of kindness and humanity,
we can bridge the gap,
and drive out the ignorance and paranoia.

To all the ships out upon frozen seas,
to the orphans who snuggle alone,
and to the families adrift upon oceans of grief,
and to those who shelter in the ruins of a toothless city,
and the ones who shift through bins for scraps of food,
and to the animals abandoned along lonely and forgotten lanes,
I say this:

The Beloved Knows...

Reach out to the light in your heart,
Warm each other with kindness,
And trust the beauty of peace.

Stop, pause, read, and think,
Before you point at me,
Before you shout at me,
Before you cast judgement upon me,
Before you **** me.

What you see before you is…
My bed,
My bag,
My shirt,
My humble home.

I exist here,
In this leaking place,
Cold winds tear through here,
Purple pain injects into me,
Into my bones seeps the autumn rain.

I have art sprayed here,
Free from the confines of a museum wall,
I have songs here,
Songs my beloved Mother sang to me,
True and real, they wipe away my tears.

I am a son with no hope,
I am that daughter you sold,
I am the forgotten soldier,
I am a country forsaken,
I am all alone.

Here, in this room,
In this place of weeping,
There is a whisper,
A yawn of dying dreams.

He never asked for mansions,
Or for grand banqueting halls,
He never asked for servants,
Or for a legion of suited waiters.

His Mother knew him,
His Child knew him,
His Maker knew him,
We don’t know him.

The sunlight fears to enter here,
Even the very air holds its breath,
The stench of another night purrs,
And no King will curl upon this pillow.

In a bed of infernal inhumanity,
Where cruelty corrodes into a life,
A lonely man is nightly crucified here,
The hymn of compassion snuffed out.

In the city the wealth runs rampant,
Suited power brokers spit and point,
A rat infested suite is not for them,
Their champagne and wines will flow on.

Remember,
The grave equals us all in the end,
That room fits King and Poor alike,
Fear the memory of what you did.

Give your ear to the voiceless,
Give your hand to the homeless,
Give your heart to the forgotten,
Give your life a moment to pause.

High up on a summer's day three roses did fly,
Each rose woven with a prayer for humanity,
Three roses, three dreams, three wishes,

First, a prayer of unity for the broken nations,
Second, a prayer of peace for a world polluted by war,
Third, a prayer of love for one and all,

The red maiden, summer's dazzling light,
She dances and sails on a sea of green,
A living and radiant flower.

Love is…
to breathe,
to hold,
to feel,
to kiss,
to heal,
and to be free.

Love each other,
Love one another,
Love here and now.

One Love.

The night skies lounge across the heavens,
Golden flecked paint shimmers and swirls,

Flames of orange kiss smoky lipped clouds,
Purple velvet drapes the throne of twilight,

White, silver and black, all dancing together,
This is the soul of a city rich with humanity,

Love is here, light and beauty too, all here,
Every colour, and every song is sung here.