POETIC OCEANS 2

Clouds gather in the sky some are dark some light up high here they come rumbling wonder why they are grumbling? raising a storm , hue and cry! Clouds gather in the sky; are they showing us a fire? frowning on a sinful desire? warning of The Heaven’s Ire? or  to cool the bonfire? clouds gather in the sky I wonder if their thunder is a song of the celestial choir? praising the Divine Moist Sapphire, Dust we see and dust we are yet the particles conspire and relieve us from our misery cooling comfort we do require, clouds gather in the sky! I know they come to admire and blessing us , will soon retire away to their ocean home entire, they leave a message , a purifier be at peace and mercy be not a crier or a liar be like us without any fuss a bold graceful high flyer- OH Clouds Gather in the sky—

I traced some patterns in life and looked at them for long, thought they were strong in design color and length, But I was told I was wrong- I drew some lines in symbols shapes and signs erased and drew again till my fingers grew numb and my wrist cried 'pain' I believed all was bright But I was told I was not right- I gathered some letters and arranged them in words I read them over and over I thought I had the idea  from  under the dark cover but someone knew better  and I was entangled  in iron fetters- I passed some innocent smiles being told to be nice and polite and mannered well,  I thought I was human,held Truth and Prayer as my weapon, But I was dragged away for miles and forced to pay a  price- I collected some pictures all plain and blank no patterns or lines nor words or designs, with soundless motions no thoughts or notions as hard as stone, as thin as a bone as quiet as a mouse I lived-in the hou...

Ah, constant struggle yet  Cannot reach the flower   because of the thorn  crawling and twisting  trembling, climbing   Up the tender twig,   of wings the insect   is shorn;   sorrow seeps sinks   what does one feel?   Battle, blatant killing   fields and one thinks   why are there flowers   steel and splinter showers?      'as flies to wanton boys'     are we, the human beings     toys?  In the minds     of sinners and sinning?     When will love again     Be born?     O’ Innocent or knowing     Insect, do you know the Way?     We are lost and gone astray,        O' Lord, if only I were one     I would just creep and crawl nor scream nor moan nor  be forlorn   But of the flower will...

Do I need a job so desperately? Or but, rather, a bit separately Where I can keep all the earning And can count my very own saving; Oh what a pleasure it will be! When I will see, only   my money. But wait, listen Am I being a little selfish? Have I washed my own dirty dish? Did I remember to close the door? Or how long ago did I clean the floor? Ah don’t you know These are also jobs to be done Boring they may be, no fun, Then what type of job do I need A job to fulfil but, a strange Greed ? Why is this feeling growing day by day? Am I really going astray? Who will answer this question? Is anybody taking any lesson? Is there someone capable? Well, it’s no use neither hoping nor waiting I guess this is normal. I am not being so formal I like being human some of the time And this world does call me one, in line, And I guess to be human once in a while Really is not a crime, the Truth is- Humans must all the laws obey Humans must not fall and go astray.

One that I wish to be One, I wanted to be called But I was constantly stalled What is there in this for you? It’s not something that is true What a waste of time sitting And just drawing lines But who knows the secret of it all A writer to be is not The Great Fall; The writer is Supreme On any Theme A writer is Eternal A writer is the cream Of thoughts ideas and views Of visions stories and news Of emotions happy or sad Of feelings loving or mad Of happiness love tragedy or drama A writer is even The Great Dalai Lama! So I can be, a user of the pen And take a pseudo name among men But now it’s not sitting and staring At the pc, so mum and dumb, Your thoughts must touch The keyboard, and reach as such The page that is blank Must reflect the thoughts in ranks This must continue for hours and hours And words must form the patterns And forms, for readers who yearn To learn and feel good, They know they...

I feel it is a crime To play with someone’s emotions And speak of silly unnecessary notions. I feel it is a crime                                              To join in company for fun                                               And waste other people’s time. I feel it is a crime To first be friends, then stray away to other ends. I feel it is a crime To frown without reason And wear dresses out of season. I feel it is a crime to laze around making a sound That’s not popularly hummed around; I feel it is a crime To close the books And give others stares and looks I feel it is a crime To call someone fat or stout  And pickup something to fuss about; I feel it is a crime Not to make things better To destroy oth...

I walked on the pages of history and discovered poetry I stepped on the stages of mystery and discovered imagery I gazed at the rages of fires and flames and discovered slavery- I stood for hours in the extensive graveyard And discovered bravery I lay critically in intensive care unit And discovered recovery, I clutched the Religious Rope tightly and discovered the depths of forgery;  Drenched in mud and dirty blood I discovered  the soul's cemetery;  I prayed, I believed,I kept my faith I see the Gates of Heaven I am, but still in Purgatory… If I have been true, in Allahs view Surely then I will enter The Promised  Holy Vinery