#footprint
"Bob, track some mud on the carpet"
Words from Johnny Cash to Bob Dylan, a nudge to take risks and leave a mark.
“You are the light of the world…let your light shine before others.” Matthew 5.14. Words from someone who knew how to leave a mark. We can do the same.
I
Have you left some mud on the carpet?
When did you last leave a stain?
Do your words make an impression?
Will you risk sounding insane?
How will you best be remembered?
How soft are you tempted to tread?
How long will your footsteps echo,
in the years after you’re dead?
Why do you think you were here?
Why do you have breath within you?
Why do you have all these questions,
when there're answers that've always been true?
II
Created to be the creators.
Gifted to speak others' minds.
Your art is a voice unspoken.
A light to open their eyes.
So next time you walk in a room,
look for the ones in the crowd.
Those who show recognition
of the things you don’t dare say out loud.
These are your tribe and your family.
These are the ones you can trust.
Together you might find a way
to help new life form from the mud.
Apr 5, 2025
Apr 5, 2025 at 2:08 PM UTC
She lived safe and sound without showing up even a hair
Donning in the body, are the flesh and bone Earth's own?
She didn't want to take that with a pinch of salt,
Fathima, the first spiritual woman
rather touched down on earth with her own!
Lived in Makkah and Madina a secret wonder
No trained eyes nor born savvy nature could uncover!
The earth, hand on the heart, never did it air,
a name she lovely held close to her chest
The mass didn't know time and again
she approached mathematically but stuck
360 degrees away behind Fathima
lived in rigid encryption!
The earth turned her mighty math most fluid
threw her mammoth weight zeroing in thin and thick
only gently as 0 and 1 rubbing over this encrypted wrap-
happened to be on her own flower bud!
Closer she pressed to propel into an opening code
revealed a solid hub, the Moon shines on her forehead,
it's on her grip but into a deep base she couldn't bottom in.
It's more airy, a pure stack of rhythms, nightingale sings,
blossoming fragrance, melodious whisper through the air
singing birds returns “This way” on every new day,
ever more time and space angle in golden spiral
in this lively one-line circle home, but not yet done
one is myriad more spiral in circle, songs in fragrance
and golden ratio dance in blossoming flower.
So revealing the code a dream never been realised
Living Fathima thus behind her intact veil showed up!
Oh more, the sun too teamed up
raising the candle from the east to the west
Even went to the length in the memory lane,
striving to remember her pristine mirror
that Fathima only once exposed
long before the heaven was born!
But none could draw a sketch of it
not in the dawn cracking fast light
nor in the mid-summer's full moonlight.
The sun went on playing chiaroscuro,
the earth's beans split,
stars leapt out off her wonder bags
on the meadows and beyond the rainbow’s end.
Yet with their enduring painting in light and dark
let alone connecting the dots they couldn't bag
her footprint even at her death.
A millennium and half has passed masses still wish
spotting her grave is seeing the earth painting the wind.
Not a firefly nor a butterfly in Medina knew it where
yet a name generation after generation is still a buzz!
Sayeedatun Nessa, the feminine Queen in Paradise,
Fathima shifted the feminine mystique from Earth
enwrapped it back into heaven veiled and intact
the wonder is now paradise’s gold dust!
Oct 23, 2021
Oct 23, 2021 at 5:20 PM UTC
a falling boy's
measured out footprint,
slipping in vain search
for a breadcrumb of solace
lost is spring, and green,
and bird nesting,
lost is his mother's smile,
he breathes in deeply
a memory of trees,
an afternoon sun
emptied of fertility:
a high wood on its last, teetering legs
urban air is everywhere
and wishes to be free,
but we are all carbon emissions,
separate living-dying pieces
polluted hieroglyphics
with nothing to convey,
fragments of a prayer
with nothing left to say
Aug 2, 2021
Aug 2, 2021 at 2:16 PM UTC
I want to sleep closer to the sky,
Mark my footprints in the clouds,
Live my dreams without a reason why,
And hold you closer than my thoughts allow.
Jan 28, 2021
Jan 28, 2021 at 4:59 AM UTC
There was misery and agony all around,
Everyone was crying the blues with hands clasped,
With body trembling, heart palpitating.
Everyone was trying to engulf the grieve of the loss,
Of the total loss of a loved one.
His spirit is going to meet the deity,
He is going to heaven leaving this mortal bulk and
The thirst of abundance of wealth.
But he is leaving all the unforgettable relationships,
leaving all the immortal memories,
going to last till demise, with all of us alone.
But why to cry, when a loved one is going
To meet the enormous supernatural being?
When his spirit is going to meet the almighty,
When he is leaving all these venial desires, all these Mortal thoughts, leaving this ill world.
Whether to cry our eyes out or to be full of the joys of springs?
Whether to grieve or to rejoice on this event
Of bonding among the spirit and the almighty?
Whether to follow footprints or to make one?
Jan 3, 2021
Jan 3, 2021 at 9:43 AM UTC
If I'm broken up
Every pieces of me
Opens up
Reflecting you
As a fragile
Work of art
Ended up
Nov 9, 2020
Nov 9, 2020 at 1:15 AM UTC
Banal breathes,
why must I pressure myself
to do cornfed motions,
that serve as life...
I held you in,
tried to suffocate your existence.
But self preservation
is an inhalation of regrets.
We rob the planet, feeding it our exhaust,
a carbon footprint
better off with out..
Sometimes the day to day
bland reasoning,
out ways the necessity of us.
May 24, 2020
May 24, 2020 at 11:51 AM UTC
gliding and sliding
between two sheets of slippery translucent paper
no friction, no traction, no adhesions
no trace or footprint
closing behind you as you pass
you can live a whole life
striving and trying but
it's as if you were never there
Jan 17, 2020
Jan 17, 2020 at 10:13 AM UTC
One day, in my travels, I found a monument to the forgotten.
I found footprints there, and though they fit my feet, I had no memory of being there before.
One side of the monument was blank, full of words that could not be read.
One side was burnt, and ashes twisted in the mourning breeze.
One side was covered with a sheet.
One side towered high, yet was gone before I fully looked away.
And all around, footprints.
All of them mine.
Sep 11, 2019
Sep 11, 2019 at 11:28 PM UTC
Endless story
Abstract world
Floating thoughts
Forgetting differences
Harmony so tranquil
Whispering wind
That remind me
Of you
But tell me
What do you see,
When you look at me?
Beside
Echoes and reflection
Affection submise
Gleam of hope
Truth of life
And
Essence of you
All at once
Smile aglow
Wax and wane
Everything else fades
When soul is content
Jun 12, 2019
Jun 12, 2019 at 5:46 AM UTC
Shadows play pirouettes in my soul
and they reveal unwritten secrets,
the taste of love is lost in a whisper.
I'd like to be your tough wool jacket
that you wear in all the seasons,
you hang me on the half-broken hanger
only when you go to sleep in the middle of the night,
then I smile at you in the morning
when you take me out of the darkness.
I'd like to wear you like my favorite shirt
made of mulberry silk with fine lace buttons,
to feel you at my chest and dance with you
the dance of the common days,
I'd like like you to be the nectar of the Manuka flowers
from which I could feed for the whole year
then I would fly in search of the sunset,
I'd like to be your footprint
on the wet sand of the hot sea
that would take me away in distant worlds,
I'd like to…
Mar 26, 2019
Mar 26, 2019 at 3:14 PM UTC
How can it be that your words describe what I have seen?
How can the words you write describe the path I have trodden?
Bumps and hills, hurdles, smiles... how do you know them?
Are my thoughts, experiences all so openly seen that you have access?
Were you following, reading minds, perhaps spying or stalking?
Even my thoughts and emotions in precise framing in your words.
Are you me in some other form I have until now never seen?
How can you understand me and know me when we have never met?
You were not there when I lived these things. How can you know them?
Our pathways in different lands, at different times and yet you write me.
How can we share these footprints and yet never meet?
Mar 13, 2019
Mar 13, 2019 at 2:42 AM UTC
shoreline littered
broken shells,
bits of seagrapes,
parts of a dead crab,
and footprints.
Mar 12, 2019
Mar 12, 2019 at 6:20 PM UTC
It was divine
Perhaps
A destiny
Or a conincidence
But, little did she know
How far she travelled
Making this world
Smaller
To a new place
Inside the thought
Without any border
Where she meant to be
Feb 23, 2019
Feb 23, 2019 at 8:48 AM UTC
I drive to the early coffee shop
and order my decaf tea
I don't drink caffeine you see
as my body is a temple
and needs its insides
kept pristine
my cup bears my name with pride
and I slide to the side bar
just a drop of milk
not too much
and skimmed
of course
then stir my conscience
and avoid the cake
I take my takeaway
to my MPV
which has plenty of room
just for me
I start up the engine
to enjoy the air conditioning
sit and start up my thinking
til I'm a venti ready to drive away
more awake and ready
to start a fresh new day
there's barely a hint
of my early bleary eyed squint
and I sing
blissfully oblivious
of my oversized
first world
footprint
Sep 15, 2018
Sep 15, 2018 at 10:36 AM UTC
On sandy land and muddy plains it appears
A mark left for succeeding generations
Carved with hands, sweat and blood
Indelible a mark that cannot be erased
You can find them on the various paths of life
For very few have been careful to leave them behind
And many careless if they mark their path
They are heroes and heroines of songs
They line the pages of books and poems
They grace the walls of museums and temples
Some are men and others are gods
And all of them have walked the earth
They discovered the heights of the sky
And the depths of the seas
They found the distances of lands
And lengths of deserts
They carved their names on stones and monuments of rocks
With their blood, sweat and hands
Marks the walls of earth with their names
Heroes of wars
Lords of science
Kings of nations
Queens of kingdoms
Loved and hate, doubted and scorned but none was a fool
Lords of art
Kings of songs
Telling their stories in pages with age
Prose, Drama and Poems
Today we sing memories of them
And we have heard
How they made war
How they caused war to cease
And we have heard
How they shed blood
How they saved lives
And we have heard
How they fought death
And overcame reproach
Great and small but none was a fool
Some and have been found and their stories told
Others are lost and the search is on
But diligent as we may be
Forever they may be lost
In the heights of the sky
In the depth of the sea
In the dark alleys of the cave
In the heavy sands of the desert
In the deep belly of the Bermuda triangle
And in the racist and hateful heart of men
But still abide their footprint on the rock
And the sands of time may tell it all
Or never will their footprints reveal.
Jul 28, 2018
Jul 28, 2018 at 3:40 AM UTC
You leave a mark where you stand,
the kind that doesn't fade easily.
like a flower, sprouted
from the shadow of your footprint
and made a bed for tired little me.
May 28, 2018
May 28, 2018 at 7:01 PM UTC
Chasers of the light
Searching footprints
Gone astray
Defying rules
Lost in tranquility
Hoping against hope
Giving ideas a chance
Learning to fight
Challenge everything
Fear is only in the mind
Thinking outside the box
Lessons I have learned
Never stop dreaming
Explore arch of life
Smile at the reflection
Healing and restoring
Truth will set everyone free
Giving meaning to life
A lasting conclusion
Let peace begin.
Let peace begin.
Feb 17, 2018
Feb 17, 2018 at 8:47 PM UTC
A footstep stood
is better than a step back.
We may leave a deeper print,
but it shows others
that's its not easily filled.
And that those that try to fill it,
have lot more to prove
than the reason of its depth..
Feb 16, 2018
Feb 16, 2018 at 5:10 PM UTC
I say learn to practice what you preach
You have no rights to tear other people down
Remember this life is a long sandy beach
Each man has a unique print of his own.
So learn to always show love and support
No man is an Island, the famous adage says,
Brother-keeping is what life's entirely about
And kindness is a blessed seed sown for better days.
Love your neighbor as thyself, the good book says
How long will we go contrary to this universal law,
Commanded by God Himself since ancient of days?
A law in which he invested time and love to draw.
So where is humanity, where is that universal love?
It's time for the strong to give the weak a helping hand
The seed of love is the will of the Most High from above
So let love become that unique footprint left in the sand.
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Jan 9, 2018
Jan 9, 2018 at 12:07 AM UTC
I'm but footsteps already fading
even though I have taken many.
People may not realize that this
is but a collage of many footprints
wishing to make theirs stay a while.
But everything is but a collection
that is sold off to time.
It's worn down, till not a memory
of its imprint is left, just a silhouette.
But shades change and new ones cultivate.
Some, only a few.. Collect enough on the
motions of others, that for every few that
fade, one clings to the reflection of others
eyes, and they walk where you walked.
And then another moulds upon one before.
We are then not just a faded footprint of our
time, but a memory. Kept clean by those who
remember our steps, never letting them
corrode but stay visible. For it only takes one
to walk in ours, too know we lived not just a memory.
Sep 12, 2017
Sep 12, 2017 at 4:49 PM UTC
fossilized footprints
collecting echoes of time
child's footprints do tread
Jun 9, 2017
Jun 9, 2017 at 7:09 PM UTC