Riding With The Shadow

Ride, my child, ride
Your long shadow will ride with you
It is your shadow that gives you splendour and delight
You cross the ocean, you cross the island
You never miss the fragrance of innocence
It is your innocence that kisses your shadow
Your innocence vibrates in punctual rhythm
Your life flies like birds of freedom.

Where is your home, my child?
Who combs your unruly hair?
Who whispers lullaby in your ear?
I know, my child, you are the child of yesterday
To-morrow des not bring you love and care
Nobody lifts his finger to allay your fear.
O, my fearless child, ride and ride
Covering a long distance of life
Some day you will reach the world of fortune.

Riding with the shadow
You will hold aloft your dream and hope
You will rain on a cloudless night
At your feet the whole world will dance
And like a white swan you will swim
Crossing all frontiers of hope and despair.

O, The Candleman!

Worship, worship, O the candleman!
Let the sparkling candle give you ample light
To fight out the canopy of veiled darkness
Darkness has overcome you with white shroud
Who will discover the rhythm of your befuddled existence,
Who will light the pyre of your blindness?

You are your own maker, you are your own destroyer
Life is calling you to take charge of the mantle
War has devastated everything around you
You clean up the ghosts of ruins
Why will you be left behind in the battle of rights?
What are you worshipping for?
Who are you worshipping to?
Not all quiet on the battle-front
Can you not hold aloft your candle
To show the way to others at this time of overkill?
Win this last battle, win all over
Let your worshipping be for all
Let your prayers be heard by every mortal soul
It is time for go on hunting
Do not let your candle be extinguished.

A Flux of White Veil

Sudden cloud of rain overshadowing the sky
In a flux of white veil shrouded in fogs and dews
Far from a no-man's isle an old man appears
He has traveled with his only walking stick
No one to give him a shelter or food for a day.

He went to a forest hermitage
The hermit did not oblige him.
He was left aside the forest
He was all by himself deserted.

Suddenly a prophet came in his dream
He did not preach a sermon, he just covered him with dry leaves
And left a jug of water for him
After brushing aside a pack of wolves
The wolves dared not to touch his hapless body
They only smelt him to taste his blood and flesh.

He woke up
Hunger did not impress him much
He drank the jug of water
And he saw a mist in a flux of white.

He did not remember his dream
But he heard a voice coming from the no-man's isle :
'Love thy son, my child'.

Praying In Unison

Have they lost hope? Millions of life roaring, millions of life trembling. The have assembled in a procession. They will journey to their home. Have they lost their home and hope. They will pray in silence. Millions of red ants have showered wisdom on them. They will worship the Almighty. What for they pray? They do not know. They do not know who to pray. Millions of red ants have discovered their pains. Beastly silence devours them, beastly silence recovers them. Do they know what to say in prayer?

Do they know on which horizon the storm awaiting them? On which horizon the clouds have gathered? Millions of red ants will show them the way to their home and hearth. No prophet has appeared to rescue them. Will they be able to reach the end of the tunnel where oodles of hope and lies tempt them? Will they be able to overcome the temptation? Millions of red ants have joined them in their procession. They will pray and sing with them.

They will sing songs of the river. They will greet life after life. Hope and lies will not drown them into oblivion.They will walk along the light. They will burn the fire of eternuty. They will be praying in unison. They have discovered their lost souls. Millions of red ants have joined them in quest of salvation. Will they be able to touch the god's feet in their prayers? Someday they will reach the shore of salvation. The white ship is set to carry them home through the mists.

kayzzaman

O, The Veiled Woman!

Discover yourself, O, the veiled woman! Where is your foothold? Everything seems to be carrying along you. Not touching you, not breathing you. Look forward to the oceanic sky calling you in stormy silence. Look backward to the life you have treaded on, life seems to be standing still like your self-existence. Your essence too seems to have lost you in the mid-way of time and essence. Burst out your anger and there will be rain.

What are whispering in your veiled silence? Are you wayward in your long journey? The journey will not end in smokes. Look up and down. Walk and walk in cheers and jeers to all and everything. Why are you shy of life and death. Life and death are the rules of the game. Follow life, follow death. And you will reach your ultimate destiny.

Love life, love all souls. Lovingly you will be accepted to one and all. It is a long journey, a long way to go. Then again you will be reborn in a flux of time. Discover yourself and you will be on the path of salvation. If you want to salvage your pride and glory, discover yourself. You will on the path of salvation. Your salvation is too close and yet too far. You walk and walk blindfolded but you cannot reach the shore.

World of Forgotten Moments

Moments come and moments go. She waits and waits. Her look is up on the sky. The birds flying away to the land of freedom. She just stares back lazily. She stares back to her long lost memories. The memories that give her a pale of tears. Tears of hope and despair. Will she walk along the aisle of life? The life has been an earthly metaphor to her. Nothing less, nothing more. Here she comes and goes back to her world of patience and glory. But it is glory of nothing. Yet she waits for the defining moments. Moments come and moments go to retrieve her patience and glory. If anything happens...

What will happen to her world? Her world of forgotten moments. She waits and waits, if anything happens but nothing happens at the end of her quest for a moment's sojourn into the depth of her unrequited voice, the voice that never tolled for the defining moments. It is like waiting for Godot to come. But nobody comes and nobody goes back to her lost horizon. Only the sky sometimes rains for her soul. When the moonless night shines on her forehead, she just wrinkles back to her pains and passion. But she never gives in. She dives into the vortex of console zone. It seems to be far removed from her virtual world.

Age has taken her pristine charm. Mystery has overlapped her body and soul. Will she get back her lost wealth of wisdom? Will she burn the flame of her life's destiny? She waits and waits for something to happen. The white ship is coming through the mist. Will it carry her to her aisle of destiny? Will there be a rain again in her soul? Birds are flying for freedom. She reaches for them. They are beyond her reach. Who will be with her? Who will be with her to her path of salvation. Captivating moments have silenced her unrequited voice. Only the walking stick lies by her side. Will it be her companion to the other world?

With A Cup of Nectar

With a cup of nectar in your lazy hands
You say you can bring the sky down at your feet
You can destroy all the blazing suns with your wisdom
Like the ancient sages you walk down the yellow river
The ocenic waves shrink at the knock of closing hours
Splendour of beauty speaks in alien voices
Yet you never forget the burning fire
That stokes your hunger for more for hungry soul
As if immortality is your right to wield the power of wisdom.

Why have you known yourself?
Why have you lived up to your wisdom?
What have you known for yourself?
Eternity calls for more truth, eternity subjugates you
Your immortal desires kill you in your sacred quest
The quest that drives you home for nothing
The quest that ends nowhwere to explode your hunger
Yet truth will never awaken you to a sense of forgivenness.

With a cup of nectar
You can live up to your immortality
But the eternity will not absolve you of your life's predicament
Your wisdom will remain with you but not the truth
The truth will dig its own grave
When your immortality reaches the empire of heavenly bliss.

Nymph of The Valley

Where had I seen you? I know your cloudless face, bleary-eyed forehead. Everything says what I imagined you in my remotest dream and desire. It takes a long while to forget the intrepid looking body and soul, Had God fashioned you in his own hand and in his own image. Is God the creator of soul? Where are you hailing from? I asked you. You remained as if a stormy petrel is whispering a soul song in your ear.

But I got my heart at you when you abruptly melted into your own clouds. In tears and jeers you cheered at your sovereignty. Your sovereignty spoke in many languages. In many words, it became a tome of dignity. You are just an epitome of rude fire and smoky fumes that never burn at the slightest provocation of love or hate. At the end of the tunnel I got you not running behind the stray dogs.

What should I name you? Nymph of the valley? The jingles of your body language is still deafening my silence. You are standing at the threshold of my conscience. You are neither singing nor dancing. Your presence makes all the difference as if someday you will kiss some somnambulist on his journey to oblivion. You are right at the corner of my wakefulness when all the birds have left their nests to greet the tomorrow to come.

Child of Universal Desire

Mother, where are hiding your baby? Sky stares at him, birds singing lullaby. He will not sleep on your lap. He will discover you, he will run away from. You cannot deny him his freedom. Let him be dirty with his disguised tricks. He will trick you into his hidden world. Have you ever been to his sunshine world? You will be his plaything. He will play with your love, he will give you the half sky to conquer.


Mother, why are you worried to see him crossing all frontiers? Why are you begging him mercy? Someday he will be the emperor of your destined land. He will win you many battles and then he will dethrone you from your vested desire. He carries the scepter of enchanted silence to whisper your love into the wind. He will break the ice of love for you when the rising sun gathers storm to break the world apart.

Mother, what are you plucking in the perfume garden? His worried eyes roam like flatfooted swan in a blue lake. His innocence will show you the way to the gate of blessings. He is the child of universal desire. You cannot ever prison him in your world of lust and greed. Let him be free to play his innocent tricks. He will talk to the sky. He will fly with the wind. And he will destroy all the frontiers.

Rest Assured As Ever

Your world is full of gray desires, desires that give you neither hope nor despair. Joy and sorrow never violate the rules of your perfumed world. When agony strikes at the heart of your desires, you plunge into your holy dip. You do not know evenly whether you attain salvation. But you rest assured as ever. You drink the cup of nectar and you live long, as long as your desires take you home in a holy grail of your world.

In your world, there is no rain or sunshine. There is no time and space. It is timeless, its space is spread over volcanic distance. You walk and walk, you sail across with your white ship that carries you to your desired frontier where neither fish nor fowl swim across your desired dream. You think not, you dream not. It is like a sojourn into a untreaded zone. When the siren call comes, you too take your breath away.

But you die not, you live not. You just change your guise. You are disguised in your own veil. The veil is not all too clear to the confused eyes. The veil removes all disguises from your swift desires. It is somber feeling that you cherish and that is what makes all the difference. The earthly creatures see you as ca creature from the other world where desires never stoke the fire But still you rest assured as ever.

Is that the haunted house of the king

Where slaves were slaughtered to celebrate god's blessings?

Is that the palace where the king plotted to burn the soldiers houses?

All those slaves still cry in the air

All those soldiers sacrificed their lives to save the king's grace

They are the nameless and faceless mortals

Who have been written off the pages of history

History repeated history in cruel tongue banishing humanity from the soil

Has history ever told the true story of mankind?

Will history ever uphold the manifesto of the wretched?



Someday there will arrive the harbinger of the forgotten

He will rememember the untold stories of burns and ruins

The slaughtered slaves will come alive in thousands

They will repeat the history in a new verse

The history will be replicated on a new horizon

Humanity will smile on the faces of the forgotten

The forgotten history will be manifesto of the wretched

And the wretched will be the new pages of history.