Showing posts with label Love. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Love. Show all posts
Marvel
Saturday, November 12, 2011
by B.H.
You have the same peachy face after all this time, only a bit wrinkly now. You still drink in every lifelike nonsense no matter how irrelevant. I still see the tender folly and bright violet wandflowers adorned with myriad love in your tawny-brown eyes. The same somber expressions but surprisingly cheery when you feel like it, strangely mellow on some days - especially on rainy days, glowering when you read or write, deep in thought when you listen to your favorite songs and endlessly vacant when you walk. You have subtly deepened in a manner that I have too. And it's cute how you don't try to hide your teeth anymore when you laugh. Only your blackish-brown hair has changed in color, they seem faintly light and weak. Your dresses are still more stylish than you are but not a lot of people know about that. And humor, still hard to get but then, I have the same problem too. You're unearthly, lost in your own literary world, I love the songs that you sing in your enchantingly wild voice as you play the uke. And how you smell the old, frayed pages of the books before you read them. You're you and I live in a beautiful world.
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Being me,
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I'm a dreamer,
Love,
Musings in fog,
My Chemical Romance,
Smile,
Thoughts
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Noon
Tuesday, May 17, 2011
by B.H.
The crow upon the block on an ardent day
There swiftly perches
And shaft of the light of a higher temperature
Kisses womanly grimace
There lives a soul in frigid hour of mind
Too dull to notice
The nap of an infant – the crowing of a babbler
Remembering a wraith
A shade lingers upon that honeyed soul
As when on noonday
And then drifts away – the another cloud too
As we love to estimate
The consistency of the variable shades
In false mathematics
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Love
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From My Book Of Dreams
Wednesday, March 16, 2011
by B.H.
I have seen,
The nights being showered with the scent -
Of when the lady-of-the-night blooms,
And when the desires become fragrant,
Under indigo skies and salmon clouds -
And in azure eventides...
Pressed summer damask roses,
In the notebooks of the wishful thinkers...
I have felt
Summers' winds blazing away -
The eye sockets of elderly souls...
I have seen,
The lush energy of rippling of -
The very first ripe strawberry...
And strawberry geranium hiding -
The patches of soil in the backyard...
I have seen,
The emptiness and sunshine -
My guests - on the same day...
Aircrafts spewing hazy stallions-shaped clouds,
In the month of March...
And thorny bushes bruising the bosoms -
Of freshly arrived lovebirds...
And paintings of dreamt up fantasies...
I have seen,
People searching for truth, innocence -
And even God - in mortals...
I have seen and wondered,
And wondered some more...
On ivory sand deserted beaches,
In the violet-coloured Mornings...
And while treading carelessly -
Over the scattered daisies...
And yes, I have seen,
Withered daisies, barren lands...
And people watering them -
With tears...
I have seen,
People ageing in moments,
First, soulless manikins,
And then forehead wrinkles, hollow bones,
And twitching eyelids till the end...
I have felt,
The crimson-yellow feeling -
Of deaths of humans...
And of missing the better days -
In the best days...
I think, I have seen -
You in my dreams...
The nights being showered with the scent -
Of when the lady-of-the-night blooms,
And when the desires become fragrant,
Under indigo skies and salmon clouds -
And in azure eventides...
Pressed summer damask roses,
In the notebooks of the wishful thinkers...
I have felt
Summers' winds blazing away -
The eye sockets of elderly souls...
I have seen,
The lush energy of rippling of -
The very first ripe strawberry...
And strawberry geranium hiding -
The patches of soil in the backyard...
I have seen,
The emptiness and sunshine -
My guests - on the same day...
Aircrafts spewing hazy stallions-shaped clouds,
In the month of March...
And thorny bushes bruising the bosoms -
Of freshly arrived lovebirds...
And paintings of dreamt up fantasies...
I have seen,
People searching for truth, innocence -
And even God - in mortals...
I have seen and wondered,
And wondered some more...
On ivory sand deserted beaches,
In the violet-coloured Mornings...
And while treading carelessly -
Over the scattered daisies...
And yes, I have seen,
Withered daisies, barren lands...
And people watering them -
With tears...
I have seen,
People ageing in moments,
First, soulless manikins,
And then forehead wrinkles, hollow bones,
And twitching eyelids till the end...
I have felt,
The crimson-yellow feeling -
Of deaths of humans...
And of missing the better days -
In the best days...
I think, I have seen -
You in my dreams...
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I'm a dreamer,
Life as I should see,
Love,
Musings in fog,
My Poetry,
Thoughts
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Bearded Man Said...
Thursday, December 23, 2010
by B.H.
This life is but a state of war son… A war inside you. Loosen not the hold – keep a firm hold on the rope of guiltless freedom. Bear off the venom that churns within you for the righteous light…for the prayer of a righteous man availeth much. Remember son, the greatest Lord has set you free to choose 'tween the true and false and doubtlessly He is capable of impossibilities. The fuel for the Blazes is um men and stones. You are equipped with a plus – a plus fearsome for the darkness that is forgiveness. Son, this Earth and the heavens are made for you. And if you break, read and recite The Book that shall light your darkest ways of the darkest cities and shall bring you back from the lowest of the lows. Stay blessed son, wherever you remain.
Solace
Monday, October 18, 2010
by B.H.
They sat by the lake – secluded yet together
Along with the torn letter’s pieces to smother
And then Autumn passed by –– And He took it all away…!
“Their secret’s been revealed –– Yet they have told no other”
I give up before I even think about starting it. Such diffidence – I have not experienced.
There’s so much in grate to combust for –– that can lighten up the whole series of the darkest nights.
But still, there’s an invisible push –– the lethal weight pressing down on me like a rotten society’s slants that keeps one low –– low as a thrall, grasps one by one’s wings, plucks its feathers oftentimes and –– keeps one low, in the dwelling –– from flying.
The hands, –– as transparent as water, as mighty as a lion, as keen as an owl, as nimble as a deer, press me downwards in a hallow hole –– in an abyss so deep that it takes centuries to fall and once I fall painlessly, it presses down on me even more inside the shallow rubbles until I penetrate them and get swallowed up by the abyss and eventually forget –– everything I once remembered.
I’m done with hoping, I’m done with dreaming, I’m done with trying.
Let’s pretend now. “Look what I’ve found… A raw hope – a wingless bird!”
Let’s walk with it – till we part.
And because, it feels good… Somehow, it makes me want to walk. Somehow… someway, I like to walk, when I’m with you.
Such lonely lives in togetherness! Tsk! Tsk! Tsk!
And ultimately the push will say: “Cull the no-hopers from the herd!”
Help. Solace. Oh God. The push is mightier.
Aghast!
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Bad times,
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Confessions,
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Heck?,
Love,
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My Chemical Romance,
My Poetry,
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The Art of Forgetting
Friday, October 8, 2010
by B.H.
It has been days and days –– this daze –– I’m faced with and yet I am not able to aerify this solider-than-rock, more saturated than pain –– pain of burning skin state. The question that my braincase eludes in response to my question is that what the question is. Maybe it is sometimes futile to ask this scummy organ.
It seems I’ve lost something, my sun, my winter sun, the beautiful sun, the only sun. Every single glorious vision from my mind as if –– have perched away.
It’s like an infant thought with no unity in ideas, just swinging strands, a fabric woven by an amateur, like an abstraction.
I lost my fantasies –– my fantasies with you –– which were ineffable. Dreams that we wove together, the reason – we woolgathered for. We kept on weaving ruby dreams side by side, shoulder to shoulder in perfections. The dewy green grass of a glimmering morning –– that needs bare feet to feel alive, we walked on it and had a talk about dewdrops on lilies, remember? –– it seems blurry and misty now. The relief –– that slows my pulse down after the racing as if I may have seen life without you, I lost. It races now –– as if it has been challenged to race, and at times it slows down to zero.
We are all strong that’s why we are surviving.
Let me forget and survive.
I vivified you with my eyes closed and brought you as close to me as I could, and faced you, faced the blastoffs (pleasant and unpleasant) you had in store, you did everything you could, and then I pushed you away with the palms of my both hands, as far as I could with all the power I had, and transformed you into logs. I transformed you into everything –– deserted. Memory destroyed.
I have forgotten.
Brain? Check!
Senses? Check!
Reasons? Check!
Health? Check!
Goals? Check!
Wit? Check!
Dreams? Uncheck!
*takes a deep breath*
Ah, I can inhale the oxygen now. Good, I can breathe. I guess I’m okay now. =)
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Love,
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Smile,
Sometimes
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Unnamed
by B.H.
Phool rangeen
Sarkain sunsaan
Mizaaj sangeen
Udaasiyo ki shaam
Mujhe main samaye
Aur main naadaan
Aur pagal. Bus pagal.
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Love,
Of turning a new leaf
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Moral
Sunday, October 3, 2010
by B.H.
Lord can do anything – and He does it adeptly for our own good. Lord loves His – mankind seventy times more than a mother loves her children.
Let the hope not nestle low with the broken ruby wings for He is invariably and perpetually with you. We might dislike at times – the ways He chooses for us to pass through the tracts of life – but if we keep faith then the harvesting turns out fruitfully good – eventually.
Just heed to what He says to you –– what He wants you to do –– how He wants you to do.
Sometimes there can be no reason to smile, but smile…
For you have –
Another sun to see, a new day to look forward to…
How ill-disobedient you become when you think you’re alone.
***
And for you and me, I have this, my dearest.
As dainty as a pipit –– a hankering –– for an eternity
The moment –– stretches more – and seems a century
They carve it in souls –– and let them vaporize –
And float them in airs to their Shaper – divine
Mayhap He has a primmer bounty in store ––
For them –– a better ground to woolgather for
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Regrets
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Life is a Fickle Persistence
Monday, September 20, 2010
by B.H.
It’s funny, when life happens to anyone, none can define. It’s neither like one’s ennui in barbershop nor like one’s fright while roaming with a fiend in an unknown market.
It’s funny to see the sunshine and the rain – at the same time and to be hopeless and the luckiest at the same time. Even nature makes fun of you.
It’s funny you have something, but you’re not supposed to own it. It’s like the feelings of a kid in a bakery, gazing savory pastries with sheer craving. I don’t know how but I find it funny.
It’s funny when you find your flair, none’s there to appreciate. When you master the art of crying on walls and pillows, they offer shoulders. When you are (happily) numb, someone actually starts loving you. It’s just funny.
It’s funny, when the only thing you are supposed to trust – brainpan doesn’t respond to the fixes you’re in – at times.
It’s funny when you’re the brightest yet the dingiest gem.
It’s funny when you care (give a damn)… Yes it is amusing!
It’s funnier when you get used to this fickleness of life’s persistency.
And eventually you start learning breaking away every twist and turn – malevolently adorned – of the pathway – that is supposed to lead you towards the terminus. It serves you its swinging random lanes for the repast in a crooked fashion – to scare you. But you hate not it anymore. Life… Is a fickle persistence and we are the meek grace. It dances in its ways in its folly like a kite up above the sky. It is just funny when you exist only – to follow the rites and go with the flow to curb yourself away from the taboo term called ‘rebel’.
Funny when you wage a war against nothingness and eventually you lose.
And
It was the last day of the perch. It’s time to fly again. I just hope the new sun brings smiles and happiness anew. I have been told that I am bright, brighter than the sun.
So, I must fight every eclipse I face, and regain the light.
Because I have ‘something’ worth fighting for. I am indeed the luckiest boy on this planet I believe. And hopelessness, I will conquer! God will help.
And as Emily Dickinson would put in,
"Hope" is the thing with feathers—
That perches in the soul—
And sings the tune without the words—
And never stops—at all—
And sweetest—in the Gale—is heard—
And sore must be the storm—
That could abash the little Bird
That kept so many warm—
I've heard it in the chillest land—
And on the strangest Sea—
Yet, never, in Extremity,
It asked a crumb—of Me.
If hope is the thing with feathers... Then hopelessness should be unfeathered.
=)
It’s funny to see the sunshine and the rain – at the same time and to be hopeless and the luckiest at the same time. Even nature makes fun of you.
It’s funny you have something, but you’re not supposed to own it. It’s like the feelings of a kid in a bakery, gazing savory pastries with sheer craving. I don’t know how but I find it funny.
It’s funny when you find your flair, none’s there to appreciate. When you master the art of crying on walls and pillows, they offer shoulders. When you are (happily) numb, someone actually starts loving you. It’s just funny.
It’s funny, when the only thing you are supposed to trust – brainpan doesn’t respond to the fixes you’re in – at times.
It’s funny when you’re the brightest yet the dingiest gem.
It’s funny when you care (give a damn)… Yes it is amusing!
It’s funnier when you get used to this fickleness of life’s persistency.
And eventually you start learning breaking away every twist and turn – malevolently adorned – of the pathway – that is supposed to lead you towards the terminus. It serves you its swinging random lanes for the repast in a crooked fashion – to scare you. But you hate not it anymore. Life… Is a fickle persistence and we are the meek grace. It dances in its ways in its folly like a kite up above the sky. It is just funny when you exist only – to follow the rites and go with the flow to curb yourself away from the taboo term called ‘rebel’.
Funny when you wage a war against nothingness and eventually you lose.
And
It was the last day of the perch. It’s time to fly again. I just hope the new sun brings smiles and happiness anew. I have been told that I am bright, brighter than the sun.
So, I must fight every eclipse I face, and regain the light.
Because I have ‘something’ worth fighting for. I am indeed the luckiest boy on this planet I believe. And hopelessness, I will conquer! God will help.
And as Emily Dickinson would put in,
"Hope" is the thing with feathers—
That perches in the soul—
And sings the tune without the words—
And never stops—at all—
And sweetest—in the Gale—is heard—
And sore must be the storm—
That could abash the little Bird
That kept so many warm—
I've heard it in the chillest land—
And on the strangest Sea—
Yet, never, in Extremity,
It asked a crumb—of Me.
If hope is the thing with feathers... Then hopelessness should be unfeathered.
=)
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The Promise
Wednesday, September 8, 2010
by B.H.
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Tick drop tock drip tick drop tock drip was what one could hear in that shallow twilight.
The noise of the wall-clock and the leaking pipe in the bathroom –– was quite grudgingly harsh to him in that silent twilight.
It wrote,
“I prevail. I prevail –– as a lowly slave.”
“It’s passing, it’s consuming me from inside and outside –– the times –– tabooed times.”
Another second passed, followed by another – the hand moved and went on, and then trembled a minute – and a minute melted into an hour followed by another hour and hours and hours.
The miles and the hours.
Tick tock, drip drop. Tick tock, drip drop. Tick tock, drip drop...
It wrote, “I’ll bend space and gravity, only if...”
The visions – blurred, emotions numbed and a sob unthinkingly was heard.
It slightly shed off the eye and made a way for the others to come; some followed it while others made their own ways. The tears they were, gleaming waterfalls against the room-light from the dark one could see. Trickling twinkles. Tick tock, drip drop. Teardrops embellished the cheeks like stars do to the sky.
Sobs.
The thunders of restlessness rumbled all over the place.
It wrote, “My thirst for you has become vampiric.”
Tick tock, drop, tick, drip, tock, drop, tick, drip, tock…
The night had risen over the world and covered it like a shawl. The night it was.
The dark and the room-light and…
A broken heart, a pain –– seared,
It wrote again, “I’d dive far below the oceans… I’d fly far above the clouds… only if…”
“None is to be blamed, oh my love. I hope you’re fine. I hope.”
Silent in disbelief, with awkward clingy emotions – he was. At square one – he was. He was.
The death each moment – he embraced.
Music played: “With every kiss and every hug you’ve made me fall in love.”
And silence crept again. Tick, drip, tock, drop, tick, drip, tock, drop, tick, drip, tock, drop…
It wrote then, “Only if I could lie within your soul and mind… and in your arms.”
And, “I’d sell it all… all my materialistic treasures.”
Music played: “Tum bin jaa’un kahan, ke dunya mein aa ke – kuch nehi chaha….”
The swollen eyes watered the sear cheeks again. The heart moaned. And then it wiped off them, all of them.
[What does he hide? Behind those scarred humid eyes.]
And it wrote, “You are my strength, and I shall keep the promise, I shall never fall apart, I shall mend my heart, even before it breaks.”
“I shall keep the promise and you will keep it too.”
“I hear, miracles happen.” Hand trembled, but he continued in imperfections. “For roses can bloom amongst the wrinkled rocks.” “For water can spurt in oasis in midst of deserts” “And if needles and threads could not do it, I shall mend it with love –– that is still alive.”
“Distances are mere a frail thread, our love is the robust string.”
The night was young, but the feelings were feeble.
Tock, drop, tick, drip, tock, drop, tick, drip…
The night kept on growing. Seconds passed. Minutes passed. Hours gone by.
And a dewdrop fell from the heaven on a leaf outside his window; it smiled at him and fell asleep on that very leaf, he saw it sleeping and waited for the sun to rise.
And then the sun fought its way up the horizon. Beams came in from the window and he saw the halos.
It was a new day, but the promise was the same.
The noise of the wall-clock and the leaking pipe in the bathroom –– was quite grudgingly harsh to him in that silent twilight.
It wrote,
“I prevail. I prevail –– as a lowly slave.”
“It’s passing, it’s consuming me from inside and outside –– the times –– tabooed times.”
Another second passed, followed by another – the hand moved and went on, and then trembled a minute – and a minute melted into an hour followed by another hour and hours and hours.
The miles and the hours.
Tick tock, drip drop. Tick tock, drip drop. Tick tock, drip drop...
It wrote, “I’ll bend space and gravity, only if...”
The visions – blurred, emotions numbed and a sob unthinkingly was heard.
It slightly shed off the eye and made a way for the others to come; some followed it while others made their own ways. The tears they were, gleaming waterfalls against the room-light from the dark one could see. Trickling twinkles. Tick tock, drip drop. Teardrops embellished the cheeks like stars do to the sky.
Sobs.
The thunders of restlessness rumbled all over the place.
It wrote, “My thirst for you has become vampiric.”
Tick tock, drop, tick, drip, tock, drop, tick, drip, tock…
The night had risen over the world and covered it like a shawl. The night it was.
The dark and the room-light and…
A broken heart, a pain –– seared,
It wrote again, “I’d dive far below the oceans… I’d fly far above the clouds… only if…”
“None is to be blamed, oh my love. I hope you’re fine. I hope.”
Silent in disbelief, with awkward clingy emotions – he was. At square one – he was. He was.
The death each moment – he embraced.
Music played: “With every kiss and every hug you’ve made me fall in love.”
And silence crept again. Tick, drip, tock, drop, tick, drip, tock, drop, tick, drip, tock, drop…
It wrote then, “Only if I could lie within your soul and mind… and in your arms.”
And, “I’d sell it all… all my materialistic treasures.”
Music played: “Tum bin jaa’un kahan, ke dunya mein aa ke – kuch nehi chaha….”
The swollen eyes watered the sear cheeks again. The heart moaned. And then it wiped off them, all of them.
[What does he hide? Behind those scarred humid eyes.]
And it wrote, “You are my strength, and I shall keep the promise, I shall never fall apart, I shall mend my heart, even before it breaks.”
“I shall keep the promise and you will keep it too.”
“I hear, miracles happen.” Hand trembled, but he continued in imperfections. “For roses can bloom amongst the wrinkled rocks.” “For water can spurt in oasis in midst of deserts” “And if needles and threads could not do it, I shall mend it with love –– that is still alive.”
“Distances are mere a frail thread, our love is the robust string.”
The night was young, but the feelings were feeble.
Tock, drop, tick, drip, tock, drop, tick, drip…
The night kept on growing. Seconds passed. Minutes passed. Hours gone by.
And a dewdrop fell from the heaven on a leaf outside his window; it smiled at him and fell asleep on that very leaf, he saw it sleeping and waited for the sun to rise.
And then the sun fought its way up the horizon. Beams came in from the window and he saw the halos.
It was a new day, but the promise was the same.
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Bad times,
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Boredom notes,
Confessions,
Love,
My Chemical Romance
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The Isolation.
Monday, August 9, 2010
by B.H.
And again he starts walking on the hazy lands through hilly and hollow paths towards the beacon that appears so far – so obscure in the denseness of fog, and the mere feel of cold-white-smoky-tuft on the scars taken from past is numbing the traveler, breaking away of the tensity is difficult. But he keeps on walking, and this time he falls down and doesn’t get up for a while. Clumsy his – abilities might be, but he eyes there at the top of the mountain – there! The beacon calls. He leads again, grunts in pain and starts figuring out the path. The path is so blue and cold, with no lightening bugs in it, he can’t even figure out where the end is and where the start. Hindrance of time and toils – alone are good enough to make him fall down – give up. And now he bleeds, old scars taken from the dark pages of the ruthless past open their eyes to the cold fog, the blood seems to freeze and it pains infinite and he wishes to fall. He sways and swoons, falls on the misty dust, tries to crawl and slightly moans but is injured badly in the isolated journey, no one to save him, no one to cure the ailments. The beacon calls, but his eyes are shut, and he sees, the promises he made, the full moons of those nights spent with his better half he loved the most, the memories he saved, the giggles once he heard, the chirps and laughter are now a flickering flame that is fogged and tattered in the fog now.
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Bad times,
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Boredom notes,
Confessions,
Heck?,
Love,
Other,
Regrets,
Sometimes,
Stupid,
Suicidal
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Depression days - MCR.. Demolition lovers
Thursday, July 15, 2010
by B.H.
History is mystery! Past is just past...
But I still remember. And ah? you're awake again? I wish you die!
Demolition Lovers
(My room)
Hand in mine, into your icy blues
And then I'd say to you we could take to the highway
With this trunk of ammunition too
I'd end my days with you in a hail of bullets
I'm trying, I'm trying
To let you know just how much you mean to me
And after all the things we put each other through and
I would drive on to the end with you
A liquor store or two keeps the gas tank full
And I feel like there's nothing left to do
But prove myself to you and we'll keep it running
But this time, I mean it
I'll let you know just how much you mean to me
As snow falls on desert sky
Until the end of everything
I'm trying, I'm trying
To let you know how much you mean
As days fade, and nights grow
And we go cold
Until the end, until this pool of blood
Until this, I mean this, I mean this
Until the end of...
I'm trying, I'm trying
To let you know how much you mean
As days fade, and nights grow
And we go cold
But this time, we'll show them
We'll show them all how much we mean
As snow falls on desert sky
Until the end of every...
All we are, all we are
Is bullets I mean this
As lead rains, will pass on through our phantoms
Forever, forever
Like scarecrows that fuel this flame we're burning
Forever, and ever
Know how much I want to show you you're the only one
Like a bed of roses there's a dozen reasons in this gun
And as we're falling down, and in this pool of blood
And as we're touching hands, and as we're falling down
And in this pool of blood, and as we're falling down
I'll see your eyes, and in this pool of blood
I'll meet your eyes, I mean this forever
P.S. I am officialy a weirdo now. Whatever.
From my pen, to my diary
Sunday, July 11, 2010
by B.H.
"You are an epic failure, who couldn’t even get his things fixed uptil this day? Day of harvesting!" I hear her saying with a bitter glare and I nod.
So silently, that I start hearing the inner me. A sore tear trickles on the fluffy carpet. And visions yet again come before the closed eyes as ever.
I, whose edges of sanity are always tinged with illusions and confusions. From whence – my delusion deposited in me the harshness and the bitterness – how can I get it fixed?
Beckoning are these major stunning lights of fascinating sinful, beautiful city and yet I resist – I strain – to free her grip from my wrist – wiggle and squirm, wrestle and twist…
And still she pulls me in the crowd – and introduces me with her friends – wearing the solid masks - despair. I even hate the first sight of life. I am not born for this – not for that – not for her – not for you but for this which starts from S and ends with E – the solitude.
Relentlessly pulling – my hand towards the people, she has the epic love for me, that can make my death so peaceful and heavenly, but I am silly or genius. And I try to flee, I can’t break away – the tension – Igniting as – now I want to stay and now as – I break through to sanities side – my eyes leak obtusely – as I realize, the place I’ve come back to… Is chock full of lies…
But I don’t want to stay, leave me, I love thee and I hate it. I am overwhelmed with anger on being piteous and yet feel piteous on being raging and then this monster – hatred comes – as I sprinkle it on both feelings, and I still have this monster – I’m opening the cage… But don’t go! I want you to hate you; I love you to hate you. I am the darkness lost in night, find me.
So silently, that I start hearing the inner me. A sore tear trickles on the fluffy carpet. And visions yet again come before the closed eyes as ever.
I, whose edges of sanity are always tinged with illusions and confusions. From whence – my delusion deposited in me the harshness and the bitterness – how can I get it fixed?
Beckoning are these major stunning lights of fascinating sinful, beautiful city and yet I resist – I strain – to free her grip from my wrist – wiggle and squirm, wrestle and twist…
And still she pulls me in the crowd – and introduces me with her friends – wearing the solid masks - despair. I even hate the first sight of life. I am not born for this – not for that – not for her – not for you but for this which starts from S and ends with E – the solitude.
Relentlessly pulling – my hand towards the people, she has the epic love for me, that can make my death so peaceful and heavenly, but I am silly or genius. And I try to flee, I can’t break away – the tension – Igniting as – now I want to stay and now as – I break through to sanities side – my eyes leak obtusely – as I realize, the place I’ve come back to… Is chock full of lies…
But I don’t want to stay, leave me, I love thee and I hate it. I am overwhelmed with anger on being piteous and yet feel piteous on being raging and then this monster – hatred comes – as I sprinkle it on both feelings, and I still have this monster – I’m opening the cage… But don’t go! I want you to hate you; I love you to hate you. I am the darkness lost in night, find me.
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My Cell Phone’s draft box – The things that I think
Sunday, June 27, 2010
by B.H.
This is what my cell phone draft box has in it. Today, I am removing the-things-that-I-think.
25-June-10 2:59 pm
She is stupid, dumb yet respected
He is misunderstood genius thus dejected
25-June-10 2:07 pm
I love you, and that girl in pink.
23-june-10 9:01 pm
I felt like a girl, not functionally but habitually…
22-June-10 12:13 am
When I read her blog I hear the peaceful serenades
When I read my own diary I hear the electric guitars
21-June-10 11:34 pm
I like to lick the white muse in an Oreo.
21-June-10 5:38 pm
I wish I were a bird, or at least that smoke from the chimney…
21-June-10 5:15 am
I dreamt that I was fighting for wrong and comparably weak side. Morning dream! Sigh. I guess I’m born to be a loser.
20-June-10 4:10 pm
There’s nothing I feel in heart but the ache and beat, every thing is in head, even you my love.
13-June-10 10:55 pm
I look uncomforted, she looks suspicious, we are on date, we talk in whispers, I hold her hand, she smiles and whisper, just a whisper and some whispers. Yes, we are on a roller coaster
11-June-10 12:05 am
Bad day… good day!
Thou – a curse – I wish not thy sun to rise
And tonight when thou goest in sleep
I shall burn thee on a pyre
I do not adore the eclipse
I do not wish the toil
Bad day… good day!
I hope thou dost not rise again
10-June-10 11:48 pm
I just wanted to get hit by a bus, but I was unlucky enough to make it to home.
07-June-10 8:39 pm
Moon is pale, what’s its ail?
Why is it sad? What is the tale?
Had its lover drowned? ‘cause he could not sail?
Or did he do wrong and sent to jail?
07-June-10 10:02 am
In the days of dark knights
Why did you not come?
Why did you not save me?
Even when they…
Sliced me into two…
05-June-10 1:02 am
I caressed its wings; it frowned and bit me on my finger.
05-June-10 1:00 am
Doomsday: - As the examiner stepped towards me, I gripped the arms of my chair fiercely and mumbled all the mystical prayer I knew, and then I faced the music.
05-June-10 12:47 am
She… in the black and she in the white are both sisters, but that boy in the red and the other in yellow are not brothers…
05-June-10 12:46 am
I stood in the rain, soaked from head to toe, and then I thought in dismay, I should open the umbrella.
05-June-10 12:44 am
I thought I am mad for her but not made for her…
05-June-10 12:41 am
When I gained consciousness, the witch was still chanting the incantation.
03-June-10 05:01 pm
Three awesome things in a row
Way to go way to go
That rhymes a bit, no?
02-June-10 1:59 am
7 Impossible things: (pathetically secret draft)
01-June-10 02:21 pm
Every shoulder’s vanishing and I’m crying on walls. Sigh.
31-May-10 5:25 pm
I wrote what they taught
But never came in handy…
Sigh!
I should have learned it by heart,
Now it’s not like eating candy…
31-May-10 5:11 pm
(Wrote ‘poison’ in design)
30-May-10 12:57 pm
Rais Bano’s book in the market.
New Day – poetry book.
29-May-10 2:06 pm
(Wrote a long ode to Emily Dickinson, which I’ll share sometime)
28-May-10 08:08 am
I am expecting thee O little bird – thou my lucky charm
Thou hast not come –
My eyes hath wilted
Why hast thee not come?
Thou – O bird…
25-May-10 11:25 pm
I had no flair to wait,
Until I met you…
And left me
Boundaries of pain
Stars unseen –
Flowers unsmell’d
I had no talent to dwell
Until I met you…
25-May-10 6:12 pm
I love my life for it made me meet you: Trying to be happy,
I hate my life for it made me meet you: Wake up and smell the coffee
24-May-10 11:52 pm
Alone – Lonely – loner
In the togetherness of thee
In the mystique of inspirations
Images are mystical – but ability is ailed
O writer’s block! Shoo! Go away!
24-May-10 10:38 pm
All but death – can be adjusted (Emily Dickinson)
23-May-10 11:43 pm
Haikus
Harsh loneliness
A cruel mask of despair
Let me put it off
* * *
I see no change
And I have grown up
Why don’t they?
18-May-10 7:57 pm
I don’t make poetry; it makes me – my immortality.
14-May-10 7:09 pm
Ancestry dot com (some website I saw on Geo TV but never opened)
08-May-10 4:54 pm
I love thee, thou lovest me
I turn in thee, thou in me…
25-June-10 2:59 pm
She is stupid, dumb yet respected
He is misunderstood genius thus dejected
25-June-10 2:07 pm
I love you, and that girl in pink.
23-june-10 9:01 pm
I felt like a girl, not functionally but habitually…
22-June-10 12:13 am
When I read her blog I hear the peaceful serenades
When I read my own diary I hear the electric guitars
21-June-10 11:34 pm
I like to lick the white muse in an Oreo.
21-June-10 5:38 pm
I wish I were a bird, or at least that smoke from the chimney…
21-June-10 5:15 am
I dreamt that I was fighting for wrong and comparably weak side. Morning dream! Sigh. I guess I’m born to be a loser.
20-June-10 4:10 pm
There’s nothing I feel in heart but the ache and beat, every thing is in head, even you my love.
13-June-10 10:55 pm
I look uncomforted, she looks suspicious, we are on date, we talk in whispers, I hold her hand, she smiles and whisper, just a whisper and some whispers. Yes, we are on a roller coaster
11-June-10 12:05 am
Bad day… good day!
Thou – a curse – I wish not thy sun to rise
And tonight when thou goest in sleep
I shall burn thee on a pyre
I do not adore the eclipse
I do not wish the toil
Bad day… good day!
I hope thou dost not rise again
10-June-10 11:48 pm
I just wanted to get hit by a bus, but I was unlucky enough to make it to home.
07-June-10 8:39 pm
Moon is pale, what’s its ail?
Why is it sad? What is the tale?
Had its lover drowned? ‘cause he could not sail?
Or did he do wrong and sent to jail?
07-June-10 10:02 am
In the days of dark knights
Why did you not come?
Why did you not save me?
Even when they…
Sliced me into two…
05-June-10 1:02 am
I caressed its wings; it frowned and bit me on my finger.
05-June-10 1:00 am
Doomsday: - As the examiner stepped towards me, I gripped the arms of my chair fiercely and mumbled all the mystical prayer I knew, and then I faced the music.
05-June-10 12:47 am
She… in the black and she in the white are both sisters, but that boy in the red and the other in yellow are not brothers…
05-June-10 12:46 am
I stood in the rain, soaked from head to toe, and then I thought in dismay, I should open the umbrella.
05-June-10 12:44 am
I thought I am mad for her but not made for her…
05-June-10 12:41 am
When I gained consciousness, the witch was still chanting the incantation.
03-June-10 05:01 pm
Three awesome things in a row
Way to go way to go
That rhymes a bit, no?
02-June-10 1:59 am
7 Impossible things: (pathetically secret draft)
01-June-10 02:21 pm
Every shoulder’s vanishing and I’m crying on walls. Sigh.
31-May-10 5:25 pm
I wrote what they taught
But never came in handy…
Sigh!
I should have learned it by heart,
Now it’s not like eating candy…
31-May-10 5:11 pm
(Wrote ‘poison’ in design)
30-May-10 12:57 pm
Rais Bano’s book in the market.
New Day – poetry book.
29-May-10 2:06 pm
(Wrote a long ode to Emily Dickinson, which I’ll share sometime)
28-May-10 08:08 am
I am expecting thee O little bird – thou my lucky charm
Thou hast not come –
My eyes hath wilted
Why hast thee not come?
Thou – O bird…
25-May-10 11:25 pm
I had no flair to wait,
Until I met you…
And left me
Boundaries of pain
Stars unseen –
Flowers unsmell’d
I had no talent to dwell
Until I met you…
25-May-10 6:12 pm
I love my life for it made me meet you: Trying to be happy,
I hate my life for it made me meet you: Wake up and smell the coffee
24-May-10 11:52 pm
Alone – Lonely – loner
In the togetherness of thee
In the mystique of inspirations
Images are mystical – but ability is ailed
O writer’s block! Shoo! Go away!
24-May-10 10:38 pm
All but death – can be adjusted (Emily Dickinson)
23-May-10 11:43 pm
Haikus
Harsh loneliness
A cruel mask of despair
Let me put it off
* * *
I see no change
And I have grown up
Why don’t they?
18-May-10 7:57 pm
I don’t make poetry; it makes me – my immortality.
14-May-10 7:09 pm
Ancestry dot com (some website I saw on Geo TV but never opened)
08-May-10 4:54 pm
I love thee, thou lovest me
I turn in thee, thou in me…
Haiku'd Birthday
Sunday, May 23, 2010
by B.H.
I had the best/cheapest birthday ever yesterday, and my day was constantly interrupted by my siblings' and a friend's creativity. And then my haiku challenge was accepted by my bro, cousin sis, dad and by a friend and they did not disappoint me. The response was so good, So, I decided to post all haiku here. Haha Billz rocked the challenge and then waris bagged 2nd position Aimz 3rd and Dad 4th! :D
So another year falls
Of my traveller-like life with
Some deeds undone
Of my traveller-like life with
Some deeds undone
***pardon me, If I've breached 5-7-5 uncool syllable rule***
My bro Bilawal's:
Aren’t you so fancy
To think of this little game?
Here, I’ll humor you
To think of this little game?
Here, I’ll humor you
In vain I create
Something great so I can win
I’m competitive
Birthday cheers to you
This is your gift by the way
So enjoy it now
I could get mushy
Really, what would be the point?
You know how I feel
I’d write like you
But sigh it is my vacation
So my brain’s shut off
Instead I’ll just write
Bro, you always rock my world
Now repeat after me
Waris':
I’ll try to be cool
with a fun birthday greeting
that rhymes a bit too!
Aimz's:
Another year young
Loved by family and friends
Happy Birthday bro
Dad's:
A Birthday Haiku
That is a dumb idea
I shall not do it
I dislike haiku
I wish you wouldn’t want it
Still, Happy Birthday
That is a dumb idea
I shall not do it
I dislike haiku
I wish you wouldn’t want it
Still, Happy Birthday
My dad's haiku was really fun, We were litterally rolling on floor laughing out loud, These deeds of love mean a lot to me :D How can I ever thank/repay you guys for making this day so special for me! specially my dad, I Love my dad more than any thing!! *heart*
And since it was my birthday... So I penned a quick written kind of poem last night as well...
.
.
Year Fall- Saal Gira
.
Thus another year of my traveller-like life falls down,
With some deeds undone, few words unsaid,
Wafted away with whispering winds and dried leaves
Took away my living togetherness and dying lonliness
Every moment passing - my journey towards a house
A house that is mere a pile of clay - my grave - my home
Like others around this year knew no loyalty -
For It also left- with some stars unseen, some tears unshed...
My Glimmering Beloved
Thursday, May 13, 2010
by B.H.
For a person that is blind - not by sight but by heart - She sees but ignores - the love that is being showered on her by friends and family - she calls herself an isolated, loner and dejected soul. She is fascinating - everything in her - her habits, face and her words attract me. This poem (ode) - I wrote, was mere a gift for her. If one reads between the lines, one can tell that how pure her soul is.
Let the orange of love spill
And let it sprinkle the magic
Let the dusk die and dawn begin
And water the ecstasy living within
Now shall I call you the pile of beauty?
And a crimson feeling of life?
Shall I take your hand in mine?
And shower you with ample love?
Oh, what shall I call your smile?
A dewdrop on lily?
Or the aroma of rain and soil?
A shooting star?
Or a red young rose?
Oh how stunningly mesmerising
It looks on you.
As my heart flies on its wings-
pouring the fairy dust behind-
To the seventh cloud....
But I shall come one day
To pluck you away-
From this nescient world
O my glimmering beloved!
(Bahadur Hussain)
And let it sprinkle the magic
Let the dusk die and dawn begin
And water the ecstasy living within
Now shall I call you the pile of beauty?
And a crimson feeling of life?
Shall I take your hand in mine?
And shower you with ample love?
Oh, what shall I call your smile?
A dewdrop on lily?
Or the aroma of rain and soil?
A shooting star?
Or a red young rose?
Oh how stunningly mesmerising
It looks on you.
As my heart flies on its wings-
pouring the fairy dust behind-
To the seventh cloud....
But I shall come one day
To pluck you away-
From this nescient world
O my glimmering beloved!
(Bahadur Hussain)
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