OF MUTED CRIES

Bounce, my feelings,

Off the walls,

In the lonely chamber,

Where which I exist,

Not even a mirror,

To reflect a thought,

No one to hear,

Of what I speak,

Not even a mouse,

For company to keep,

A semblance of living,

I have none,

Makes me wonder,

What I have done,

To be alone;

With no one at all,

Is this life?

With nothing to add,

Am I alive?

Or am I.....DEAD?

OF DELIRIUM

Delirious in the dungeons of besieged time,

Grabbing on to all that I thought was mine,

I was the only one there;no company to keep,

Pinching myself hard to see if I was awake,

Or had fallen into the rabbit hole of sleep,

I

Lying still until the end of time,

On Judgment Day,when I am awakened,

Testify, I will ,to the one I was buried by,

With corruption of my soul not even slight,

The books of my past will be opened,

My dormant soul will then have risen,

Replayed will be the blood curdling cries,

Of the tortured I that lay mute to the world,

A just end for what I did fight,

THE UNCHAINED HUG

What I needed,you might not have given;
That was something I couldn't take,
So I chose to leave it to speculation;
How cleverly I outwitted fate,

My feelings, it could have forsaken,
And left me emotionally shaken,
The possibility will remain;for me,a chance,
Not really a confirmed void,
Now, in my heart,there's something that I have taken,
Because of  the knowledge  of what to go for,
And the wisdom of what to avoid,

A SAD SUN

Lost amidst the clouds of heaven,

I saw but one of seven,

Just today,the sun,in sorrow,

A brighter day,maybe,tomorrow,

OF ROGUES AND HOROLOGUES

Light as the feather it is,

Don't underestimate my quill,

It will cut you deeper than any sword,

With every point that it has to offer,

On every written word ,

But, not before giving you a chance,

To shy away from a glance,

Towards my work that you stalk ,still,

So begone,O reminder of where I was,

For you to stay there is no cause,

I was true with all my flaws,

I captured the moment and held it still,

Even as you relished it to your heart's fill,

But then you let the goblet spill,

Crimson red you flooded the floor,

No moment left ,now,in the cup,

For time to stop,the time was up,

The timekeeper,now, was shown the door,

In a thousand pieces,now, the horologue,

OF TRUTH AND TRADE

Love,one sided,is true,

Two sided,a trade,

That's all there's to it,

 For life's beguiling charade,

RUMI'S RUSE

I broke all the barriers within,Rumi,
My feelings were exposed ,without,
But your poem really was misleading,
Which left my heart bleeding,
And I still think and wonder,
What you wrote was about,

I did not find love,
Neither did it find me,
So what in damnation is happening,?
Stranded on an island,I am,
Where feelings  have shown me the door,
And love will not bind me,

Filled to the brim with pain,
Is my anxious heart,
No happiness to compare with,
The only colour seen is red,

My heart may still be beating,
And my body may be alive,
But ,as far as I can tell,
My soul ,actually, is dead,

On the right platform of life,
I caught the wrong train,
Going away from where I was to be,
Losing what I could have gained,

Was this the noble endeavor,?
For which you wrote a lot,
I am so confused with your writing,
In spite of having everything else,
For which many spend a lifetime fighting,
The love that you so passionately,
And beautifully wrote about,
Is what I really never got,

Or maybe it's my destiny,
To live a life of fantasy,
And then burn in hell,

For having the audacity,
Of a frog ,madly in love,
While living in a well,

No damsel jumps in a well,
To kiss an ugly frog,
And no sleeping beauty will rise,
From a bed of burning logs,

Denied of a life,imagined,
That someone else has already taken,
In your poetry,Rumi, I find nothing,
A facade was your concept of love,
Because of you,my faith is shaken,

Life will have many more battles,
Some I will win and,others, lose,
But,now,whenever confronted by feelings,
Lust, I may drown myself in,
But,love,I will never choose,

My feelings down the deep abyss,
No emotions expressed,
To any woman that I hold,
Or any lips that I may kiss.

Logic will prevail in my life;
I have risen above your fallacy,
Drowned in the deepest trench,
Is your fictional representation,
Of the absurdity that you imagined,
And called it love;I call it stench,

THE PEARSON GRIND

Shoulder to shoulder with the 419,
Stand all the workers of Pearson's grind,
No more acceptance of unsafe work,
With job insecurity and the wages low,
We light the beacon to show the blind,
That better workers they'll never find,
We'll stop the use of labour scabs,
O' foolish profiteers of managements,
Our jobs are not out for grabs,
And we'll show you what you don't see,
That's SOLIDARITY at the YYZ

THE WAIT

On the day that fuses time,

When the body has lived it's course,

And paused will be all discourse,

When the universe will be standing still,

And answered might be my burning will,

Is the day when I will stand,

And ask for that maiden's hand,

OF BROKEN HEARTS AND SHATTERED DREAMS

Broken hearts and shattered dreams,

The sleepless nights of despair,

Or slumber with horrendous screams;

This misery is for real,

 

Tortured in damnation,my soul,
 
My bliss for you to keep,
 
Falling off the cliffs,my feelings,
 
And happiness, in heaps,


 
Tossed around the tumultuous waters,

My feelings drown so deep,

Death will be a relief from God,

The fall,a joyful leap,



But until the time my soul is free,

My heart will always weep,

Until,it escapes the darkness,

And brings itself to light,


 
 When ,no longer,darkness prevails,

Trapped inside this body of mine,

And ,out ,will come my tortured soul,

Holding hands with a little sunshine,

ANOTHER NAIL IN THE COFFIN OF HUMANITY

Cowards without a conscience,
 
They had no blood in their body;
 
With hatred, they were filled,

For them it was just water;
 
Not the blood that was spilled,


Even though it was the pilgrims,
 
That they attacked in cold blood,
 
It was humanity that was killed,


Regardless of who did this dastardly act,
 
They cannot be of any religion;
 
let alone any sect,


And we failed, again, to protect the weak,
 
With what right, deliverance, shall we seek?

And what legacy shall we leave behind?
 
When humans, on earth, there are none,
 
We had our chances to live as we should,
 
But indifference blew those to Kingdom Come,

OF "UNSINKABLE" LOVE

Love exists for me;you see,

And ,happily,I bear the pain,

While you struggle in life's mirage;

All your efforts in vain,

So,if “being in love” is the reasoning behind,

How come,true love you cannot find?,

Even when it is laid out on a platter,

You splash it away in a splatter;

Your delusion rendering you blind,

You miss your heart;you gave it away,

To resurrect a corpse that has long been dead,

Whatever I wrote ,you took it as jest,

No word absorbed ;just hastily read,

And,if confused,in the future,

With nowhere else to go,

Do read these bitter words of mine,

Just a little something you should know,

Your love boat did not stand a chance,

Towards a dead end,you gleefully sped,

You did fill it with your feelings of love,

But he,though, ballasted it with lead,

Like the Titanic,your vessel sank,

The cold waters of reality,you forcefully drank,

As what you thought was unending love,

Broke it's back ,before going under,

And not taking the hand that was offered,

By rejecting the one chance that was proffered,

You did not just make a mistake,my dear;

You actually committed a blunder,

THE BELLE AT THE FOUNTAIN

Somewhere deep in the Caledon hills,

There is an age old fountain,still,

In several stages ,the water collects,

In graduated pools ,before it spills,

And on the mossy fountain's rim,

I chanced upon a beautiful sight,

Lost in thoughts was a lonely belle,

I watched her long as she stood still,

With flowing long hair in a cascade, dark,

Oh,what a sight it was in the park,

One slender arm rested on her thigh,

While the other one held on to the side,

In black and gold was she dressed,

Never so hard had my heart compressed,

One long glimpse;as I saw her there,

It was a sight that would never disappear,

As much as I wanted that image to clear,

The emptiness remained in my heart to fill,

OF TORN TETHERS

Being tethered with the string of love,

So hard it was to leave her now,

Especially with the sudden tear,

Though I thought that the string would bear,

But as the clock struck that wretched hour,

Darkness crept along with fear,

Not that my love was worse for wear,

Despite the fact that I wasn't there,

Where my love was waiting now,

With a heavy heart,she did allow,

The void in between us to fill,

With a crimson flood that she had spilled,

How I waited at my window sill,

Wondering when the tide would turn,

And quench the thirst of my burning yearn,

So that I could catch a glimpse of her face,

Straining my eyes through the twilight haze,

A DIP IN GARLIC

Hungry, you are, away from my eyes,

I can feel those emotions of emptiness,

Far ,though,I may seem to you,

Your feelings don't fade into nothingness,

O,beautiful garlic clove,

I can't wait to unwrap,

The goodness that you keep,

Far and wide,I search for you,

And buy you,expensive or cheap,

To spread you gently on toasted bread,

For,her hunger is something that I dread,

So ,please oblige and let me spread,

The goodness that you always bring,

The satisfaction of her soul,

Before her smile turns into a frown,

On that witty and ever so pretty head,

MY LADY'S FINGER

Though,just a cut on the finger,
And a couple of days in pain,
It was the blood on that maiden's  hand,
The one that I reached out to gain,

These are the  feelings that linger,
That just dont let things change,
You can convince yourself to feel better,
Any attempts,though,are in vain,

In life we search for love,
Through sunny days and rain,
The heart of a relationship,though,
Inevitably,is the pain,

And,the expressions on our faces,
Being caught  in the roller coaster,   
We ever so tactfully feign,
As we  lose control of our thoughts,
And just feel the tight  iron grip,
Of the relationship's rusty chain,

Lost,but happy,that I loved at all,
At least I broke that impregnable wall,
Momentarily,I was shackled to that maiden's  heart,
And now,since that rusty chain is gone,
On those long days of feeling forlorn,
I will roll my sleeves and look at my arm,
And wistfully cherish the stain,

OF QUICKSANDS

Stuck in the quicksand of emotions,

Down goes another soul,

Flailing her arms around in vain,

Along with her life and her goals,

I don't know what is worse in life,

To accept helplessness , and cry?

Or strongly reject a possible way out,

When you don't even try,

Suffering all the way down,

As life will pass you by,

Emotions eclipsing your reasoning,this way,

I have often wondered why,

BEHOLDING THE BELLE

I once beheld the village belle,

Singing in the mustard fields,

Or passing by, on country roads,

Along the poplar trees,

Enchanting as spring's freshest flowers,

Her brown hair highlighted by the sun,

Or wet,with the sweetness of rain,

Beauty,in my sight,was only one,

Embedded is her image in my mind,

For all the places that I traveled to,

Through sunny days or hues of blue,

With all the goodness that life had to offer,

I rejected each and every proffer,

Because,her parity,I could never find,

REFLECTIONS OF AN ILLUDING KIND

Beguiling enough to lose my mind,
 

The heart pumps up the rhythm,

The whole world changes around me,

And the time starts going slow,

 

Being with you is when  I find,
 

The inner light of your psyche,

Unwittingly,you project an aura;

That is what makes you glow,

 

I wish ,that you,for once could know,

What you are not able to see;

The person that you already are,

Is the person you avoid to be,

 

Unfortunately,while I can see,

Your own reflection is blind,

You are gazing at the mirror,

With nothing there to find,

Except an illuding imposter,

That just resembles you,

Except an illuding imposter,

That just resembles you,

Beguiling enow to loseth mine own mind

The heart pumps up the rhythm,

The whole w'rld changes 'round me,

And the timeth starts going sloweth,

Being with thee is when i findeth

The inn'r lighteth of thy psyche,

Unwittingly,you projecteth an aura;

Yond is what maketh thee gloweth,

I wisheth ,that thee,f'r once couldst knoweth,

What thou art not able to seeth;

The p'rson yond thee already art,

Is the p'rson thee avoideth to beest,

Unf'rtunately,while i can seeth,

Thy owneth reflection is blindeth,

Thou art gazing at the mirr'r,

With nothing th're to findeth,

Except an illuding impost'r,

Yond just resembles thee,

Except an illuding impost'r,

Yond just resembles thee,

NOT EVEN THE PAIN

I live for the sake of giving;

Happiness,I may not always see,

But nothing can change my mind;

Not even the pain,

Life was only meant for living,

No promises were made ,of perfection,

Everything wasn’t meant to be clear,

Through the troughs and crests of it's waves,

Happiness would leave it's share,

Luck could change it's course,

Then bring forth some despair,

No excuses for not living,

Not even the pain,

Life is a birthday present,

With ribbons,neatly tied,

What's inside the box,

Is not really that matters,

More important is the fact,

That something is inside,

A gift from God,for you,

You can like it or hate it,

Nothing else can be done,

No better way to state it,

Yes,you can blame fate,

But nothing will change who you are,

Not even the pain,






 

NOT COEQUAL THE TEEN

I liveth f'r the sake of giving;

Happiness,i may not at each moment see,

But nothing can changeth mine own mind;

Not coequal the teen,

Life wast only meanteth f'r living,

Nay promises wast madeth ,of perfection,

Everything wasn’t meanteth to beest clear,

Through the troughs and crests of t's waves,

Happiness would leaveth t's share,

Luck couldst changeth t's course,

Then bringeth forth some despair,

Nay fetches f'r not living,

Not coequal the teen,

Life is a birthday present,

With ribbons neatly did tie,

What's inside the box,

Is not very much yond matters,

Moo important is the fact,

Yond something is inside,

A gift from god,f'r thee,

Thee can like t 'r misprise t,

Nothing else can beest done,

Nay better way to state t,

Aye,you can censure fate,

But nothing shall changeth who is't thou art,

Not coequal the teen,

TICK,TOCK,TICK,TOCK...

Tick,tock,tick,tock,
Nay,I'm not crazy;really, 
T's the horologe yond's ticking,
Moments from mine own life,
T's the time yond it is picking,

Memories pour out of mine own mind,
Of long summers and starry nights,
The holidays hath spent with cater-cousins,
And those fartuous pillow fights,


'r at which hour we ranneth about in the gardens,
Hunting f'r grasshoppers and butterflies,
Plucking the quite quaint flowers,
Nay responsibility in life,no tether,
Did wet in the merit summer showers,
Nay one to stand ho us;not coequal the weather,

Oft we would just forswear down,
And gaze the night sky ,with wonder,
Looking f'r shooting stars ,and shapes,
Of the constellations  in the infinite space,

Nothing bother'd us,
Not mosquitoes,'r flies,
'r coequal parents shouting ,
At the top of their voices,
To calleth us in f'r the night;

Those wast the wonder years,
At which hour we did throw caution to the winds,
Nothing wast moo important than excit'ment,
Logic and reasoning,we very much hadst none,

THE MORNING'S TRASH

What is the truth,really,and what is life?

Is it the soft sound of a bubbling brook?

Or is it a picnic under a shaded tree,

Or is it the pages of a well written book.

That pause life for a long moment,

So that,in wisdom,we can see,

Here,beside a picnic basket full of food,

Where friends sit and laugh,and play,

Or the children romp about on the grassy knoll,

As we free ourselves and embrace the satisfaction,

Of flying kites and chasing ducks,

As if we have broken the urban wall,

Why is this not life,if anything is?

Why do we wonder about the simplest things?

And attempt to answer questions,complicated,

But reject the things that life does show,

That wisdom,old,is still good,

And not antiquated,

Not that life is an endless spring,

But ,water,to the thirsty wayfarer,

It certainly does ,sometimes,bring,

Just a little is what it takes,

To have life that is not a waste,

So why do we grab it by it's horns?

And complain when we fall on a thistle,

Let alone a bush of thorns,

Or is it the beautiful bosoms,

And,oh ,such shapely thighs!

For which you steal a look?

 The affections ,unwise,

I suppose that I will never know,

And just reflect in thought and surmise,

Where is logic when you need it,

Why do we give in to emotions?,

And deflect the logical thought,

By embracing foolish notions,

Pondering,O humanity,

Where were we ,really,?

What did we lose?

And what have we got?

Walking without looking,

And looking without seeing,

We live like machines,

And call ourselves beings,

Trashy novels ,we joyfully read,

And have children to raise,

But it's pets that we breed,

And on false pride do we ride,

Sitting pompously on an ass;

Rejecting the steed,

What is life,really,now?

I don't know,

But I am living it,