Rain pelts a nightmare into her skin,
His punches sneak into her veins and explode,
The thunder of her broken heart lashes her,
His voice prowls in every bone of her fibre.

“Please! No more!”

He silences her pleas with sleep’s dead pillow,
On this night he buries their love beyond human reach,
His hands crack her with the rage of a killer’s moon,
Fingers probe her privacy and she recoils in the grip of his steely vice.

“No! Oh god! No!”

The devil is inside the room with her,
His vaporous form drowns her mind,
The beast worms and carves his name into her,
This night he wants more, he wants to own her.

*“...!”

Let my heart gently swim
in the silky warm smoothness
of a creamy chocolate coffee
on a sleepy Sunday morning,
The hours lazily evaporate in the steam.

Let my troubles and my woes sink,
Let my pains melt away this very day,
Let the fresh air sprinkle love’s dreamy spice,
Let the flavours mix in my hot coffee cup,
Let me unfurl the flag of life’s everlasting heights,

Rich, dark, and with a velvet touch,
My lips receive the frothy sweet kiss
and my tongue curls with a pleasure rare,
This is a coffee which will keep me wrapped warm
against the memory of years yet to rain and storm.

“Look here,” said the old man with some serious concern,
“Take these books and from them learn.”

“Why?” asked the boy as he halted and turned,
“Far better it is for these boring books to bin and burn.”

“My dear boy,” said the old man,
“with this band of books you can one day proudly learn to stand.”

“Stand?” the boy was confused and kicked a discarded tin pan,
“Upon my legs I do already walk and stand on this here so solid land.”

“But what will you do,” continued the old man,
“on that day when you sink into some slippery slimy quicksand?”

“What mean you by this quickly sinking quicksand?” retorted the boy,
“I am well and truly bored and must go away to play with my store of new toys.”

“Wait, look and see,” the old man held up a hand and pointed to the distant sea,
“By quicksand I mean all your problems on yonder misty horizons yet to be.”

“Problems on distant horizons so far away?” the boy stopped and at the ocean stared,
“I see no problems nor do I care.”

“A job, a house, a nice wife and much more besides,” the old man rested by a pool,
“For all this and much more you will need books and go to school.”

“Hmm, no fun is there to be had at school,” the boy sat down and lazily drowned the day,
“I want to sail and play, play and more play.”

“Listen, my bright boy, lay down that toy,” said the old man looking at the sad boy,
“Books, schools and golden rules are the very source for much pleasure and joy.”

“Really?” the boy was intrigued and his interest piqued,
“Can I have all my dreams and hopes at school realized? Please, can I have a peek?”

“Yes, and there’s much more besides,” the old man dusted himself and smiled,
“Come child, let us now to school glide. On this exciting trial walk your very first mile.”

“Lessons, teachers and knowledge lead to college,” the boy sang the words with happy delight,
“To study, read and write with the wings of a bird then will I freely fly like a kite.”



©Rangzeb Hussain

Earth,
This place of our birth,
Of all birth,
Has been blighted by Man's ****** curse,
We must sprinkle love from our golden purse,
It is time to restore our Mother Earth,
Come you there let us all help to nurse her,

Let’s heal Her broken heart and core,
It is time to open charity's door,
The Earth's rocky back is blistered and covered in sores,
Enough of all the corrupted words from the politicians' jaws,
Listen to me! I beg you and humbly implore,
Stop all the drilling, all this black lifeblood spilling, no more!
The oceans run sick with slick oil stolen from nations poor.

Time,
It sings of the end of life's rhythmic rhyme,
We are mired in catastrophic crimes,
The aging Earth is no longer in Her youthful prime,
We have smeared Her fair face with greasy grime,
Everywhere we drink champagne and waste time sipping wine
While outside the blessed Earth is in the twilight weeping.



©Rangzeb Hussain

We are closer to the Angels when we sleep
And to the Devil when we awake.



©Rangzeb Hussain

The rain strikes the sharp jagged window panes
As she huddles in a corner of the darkening room hurting full of shame,
The probing fingers of early evening frost play a game of chess
And invade the unprotected battlements of her frail body with success.

Outside,
The lightning bares its hideous teeth with savage intent
And the wind sings a song without hope.

The storm gathers its troop for the carnage of fright
That it has lustfully planned for this nightmarish night,
People can be heard running outside on the wet pavements,
Humans hunting for shelters beneath gravestones.

Inside,
The decaying boards of the room reek
With insidious desires.

She can sense the lower depths of pollution
That surround her but nobody will ever execute a solution,
This child of mankind will be shrouded in a grim reality
Which is preached as a sincere morality.

*Within,
Even though her soul is sore,
She will never be vanquished by these feeble man made forces.

“...Turn me away
from the golden gates of Paradise
for today in folly
did I cruelly mock
the secret tears
of my love’s
forlorn weeping rose...

The cloth of Heaven itself
now bears the bloodstain
drawn from the pure heart
of this
my now lacerated rose...”*



©Rangzeb Hussain

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!”

This fleeting life,
it is merely the flicker of an eye,
and all too soon we become
part of the twilight shadows.

But know this...

Death has no victory
nor any glory,
it is but a door through which we all pass,
and thus begins another stage,
the stage of the hereafter
and the eternal peace in
the ***** of the beloved
Almighty.

My heart goes out
to the family
at this difficult
and sad time.
The way forward will be hard
but we must keep alive
the memory of one
who will never again come back.

It is through prayer
that healing and hope
will be found.
My prayers are with you,
Always...



©Rangzeb Hussain

Use me as your unblemished canvas,
Use me as your smooth sheet of sultry paper,
Write your story across the pages of my warm skin,
Take your hands and brush your lips with passion’s paint,

Take me,

And weave upon me your silky masterpiece,
Let me slide through the gates of your searching soul,
Let me kiss the dreams of passion which dance inside your mind,
Let me curl inside your heart and let our bodies become as one.

It is with the blood and bones
of the poor
that the rich
build their castles and thrones.



©Rangzeb Hussain

"Petal by petal,
step by step,
breath by breath,
Her dreams flutter away...

But...

Even though the mist curls
and the cold air caresses her,
In her heart
that's where the rose still grows."

There was no dragon
And there was no girl with hands bound with pearls,

But…

There was blood
And there was mass ****** littered all over the land and rivers.

There was no saint
And there were no hymns or marching pipes led by earls,

But…

There were lies
And there were bones inked to write and slaughter was delivered.

There was no lance
And there was no horse or swords drawn to help curvaceous girls,

But…

There was a red cross
And there was blood smeared on a pure white flag which flapped and curled.

There was no gallantry
And there was no dignity or pride nor was there justice delivered,

But…

There was a pale man
And he rode a pale horse and he rode from a land called Palestine.

"Let the world know I weep
for the souls
that lie at the heart
of the raven's claws...

Upon the wings of this night
a wolf's moon will howl
the enchanting songs
torn from the vice of love's doom..."



©Rangzeb Hussain

On this day, at this time,
Here and now, some of you will make a sign,
You may give a flower, maybe bake a cake
or you might throw a party for her sake.

Go ahead and throw a bone while you’re at it...

No dear child, and you too,
you sons of Adam, searching for clues,
All you, all of you,
Here, there, everywhere,
You have to pay,
You owe something at the end of life’s highway,
Yes you do, even as you finally sink into the grave’s clay,
There is a debt that you can never ever repay.

Why?

Because no matter what gift you buy today,
No matter how much money you spent yesterday,
No matter what you say,
You can never ever repay
the gift your Mother gave you yesteryear,
Hark it well, children dear.

Life...
She gave you life...
You were given the greatest gift there is,
A gift without Man’s price.

And yet here you stand in the world’s trap,
Saying this and yapping that,
You men pose, posture and point,
Everything you touch you taint.

On the dread days when pain rains,
When your hopes are flushed down sewers and drains,
That is when you howl and pray,
That is when you beg for Mother’s day.

Speak to her,
Understand her,
Kiss her,
Or soon, all too soon, you’ll miss her...

Sister,
Mother,
Daughter,

From oceans West, and deserts East,
From dawn of life to twilight rest,
From rainbows weeping love’s feast,

I bring you hope and I bring you delight,
I bring you dreams and I bring you light,
I bring you smiles and I bring you human rights,

I ask for peace,
I ask for freedom,
I ask for my life.