vendredi, février 20, 2009

questions...

A light breaks the shadow
Into the openness
The stillness is deafening
The insignificance takes prominence
Solitude in the empty street
The guardians at your behest
The king of solace
Emperor of the deserted track
Laden footprints
Whisked away by the wind
Goodness beholds
Humility awakens
Beckoning the dawn of wisdom
As darkness surrounds the light
Emanating its brightness
For when darkness is recognized
Radiance can be found
A hollow shell
A followed sound
Each step I take
The closer I get to the universal self

mercredi, février 18, 2009

Wavering Lust

Words that are unspoken
A drop of dew flowing on the window pane
A shattered smile, of incomprehensible sentiment
The savor that would make things sane
My sanity flows out on a voyage
And numbness rages inside
The flame is fizzled
As a whisker in the wavering night sound
Reaching to hear the whispery hum
A thousand distance miles away
My hearing fails
And wandering am I living wondering
For when our fingertips will touch
A tiny lingering star shall shine as the splendid sun

mercredi, février 04, 2009

on two stones, two silhouettes

He kneeled on the couch and overlooked through the window over the small mosaic openings.

There had been no sunset today. The sky was grey and the wind blew dust into the air. He looked at the children in the front yard, playing football under the murky air. His mother called on him –

“Hassan, your tea is ready!”

He went over to the table, picked up a cookie, laid it on his saucer and put both his hands around the warm glass of mint tea.

“Aren’t you going to join them?”

He shrugged.

“It’s been one month since you’ve stopped playing with them. Is there a problem?”

He nodded his head.

“The cat cut your tongue? If you want I can talk to Rasheed’s mother. They will let you play then.”

“NO!!”, Hassan stared at his mother. Then he lowered his eyes and sipped on his tea. “I don’t feel like playing.”

“Ok, whatever you say captain! Drink up your tea and go wash up”, she muttered as she made her way back to the kitchen.

Hassan took his tea back to the couch and looked over the street again. On the opposite pavement, a cobbler repaired a blue pair of snickers. He had been the neighborhood cobbler for as long as anyone could remember. He always wore his white pajama, covered his head with a brown turban, and wore a black shawl around his shoulders. His shawl would have looked almost majestic if it was not for the holes and dirt that it carried. When he had started out, his beard was thick black, but it had now turned into pure white. The people of the neighborhood, however, did not pay any attention to this detail.

The ball came towards his direction; he lifted his head when a boy came to collect it, and then turned back his attention to his blue snickers.

Hassan had finished his tea. He walked to the kitchen sink and washed his glass. He then went to take a shower.

The next day, on his way back from school, Hassan stopped at the cobbler’s.

“Hello, sir.”

“Well, hello there my son. Aren’t you the one who’s been spying on me? I was wondering when you would drop by to say hello!” replied the cobbler.

Hassan turned red. “umm… no! I did not spy on you!”

“I would have you known that I have eyes all over my body. I can see things that no one else can see!”

“Really?” Hassan felt the urge to run towards his home.

“Well, what can I do for you today? Would you like me to polish your shoes?”

“mmm… no.”

“Well, then?”

“Why is it that you come here everyday at three o’clock in the morning and sit at that corner over there and look at the sky?

The old man looked at the boy and smiled.

“Why don’t you let me polish your shoes? You will not have to pay for it. You can sit here, and I can tell you a secret.”

Hassan removed his shoes and handed them to the white bearded cobbler.

On the following night, at three am, there were two silhouettes, one small and one big one, one sitting on a small stone and the other on a big stone, with their heads lifted towards the sky. The direction of their heads remained towards the sky for thirty minutes after which they both made way for their homes.

lundi, février 02, 2009

No nonsensical nonsense sense

An apple on a field and a frog sings its praise
Two cups, three cups, filled up to the brim
Wine for one, or wine for two
Let’s drink up until we’re drunk
And we don’t remember
When was the last time we floated?
Two for one, one for two…
Let’s get a hang over
Feeling our heads burst into the sunlight
We’ll sleep all through the day
And then walk 44 miles to the sea
We’ll build a sand castle
And watch it get washed away
Seedlings sprout
A fountain flows
I smile and then turn a blind eye
Skirting flirting parting with the sunset
Let’s drink up until we’re drunk