The Solitary Soul

I was once a man who lived
within the measures of his time
paying homage to the laws
and the writ of social circumstance

I gave credence to friendship
the kindness of fellow men
giving loyalty due credit
to the tasks and duties at hand

Alas the world has other cues
the counting of self does outweigh all
selfless tradition has no dues
except as fodder to selfish chores

Upon a choice I opted to sever
all the ties that have bound me hither
unshackling the binds of social tenure
freeing my soul to freely wander

Enjoying the silence of empty harbors
exploring the expense of lands uncharted
in the cool waters of solitude's river
singing the song of a soul disenchanted.

Izra'el's Touch

All the time
Izra'el's shadowy hand
wilt forever
be just hence

a few feet away
an inch behind
around the next
corner's bend

no fleetness of foot
nor cunning of mind
could save one
whose time has come

from the very richest
to the most poor
to the embrace of death
will all defer

upon that moment
on the appointed time
will appear the angel
with death in his hands

the cleaving of a sword
a thousand times compound
the ripping of the soul
from it's bodily confines.

My Lullaby To You

Sleep baby sleep,
you're no angel tonight.
Even angels need,
to rest their wings from flight.

Close your lovely eyes,
my little angel true.
Let me be the one,
to be watching over you.

If you are lonely,
sad or in despair.
Just remember me,
for you I'll always be there.

A Tribute To Celine Dion

Through the distance of spaces
in the voyage of sounds
I hear your sweet sweet voice
bringing to me gentle songs

lilting lyrics that crushes
the sorrows of days to come
sweet melodies that batters
the sadness of nights beyond

in the solitude of my times
in the loneliness of my years
I play your sweet sweet songs
to soothe my mournful tears

the singing of an angel
reminding me that things
are bound to hopes and chances
what better dreams might tomorrow bring

with a piece of my heart
I give thanks to God
whose bounty on earth
has included your sweet sweet songs

Through the distance of spaces
in the voyage of sounds
may I always hear your sweet sweet voice
singing those tender gentle songs.

Of Broken Pieces Scattered By The Winds

The tale of a broken heart
scarred beyond conditions
shattered to million pieces
scattered to foreign corners

to quell the bleeding of a heart
the wounds needs to form a scab
a layer of armor to protect
the delicate tender exposed parts

to still the angst of a heart
it is good sense to lease
the stormy winds from up north
quenching the flames of agonies

to ease these hurtful feelings
we turn to science to cryogenics
freezing the heart and body
numbing the pain in theory

to heal a fragile personality
from the experience of defeat
solitude is the only favour
that a hurting heart can seek

to rebuild a house of glass
a heart toppled broken down
we must wait for a long long while
to find all the broken pieces

to relearn the thrills of emotions
a task perhaps insurmountable
how do you teach the lessons of living
to a heart with no reason to live

to conquer the fear of trusting
would need a willing teacher
someone to be there and near
a font of love and patience

to tango perchance to dance
reliving those dreaded tempos
a heart would need to follow
the beats fraught with danger

to reopen a shuttered door
is perhaps impossible to ponder
to let in another stranger
is perhaps too soon thereafter

This tale of a broken heart
the scars that are still fresh
the wounds the would not heal
the pieces that will never fit

perchance the tale of love's slumber
the retreat to solitude's favor
the start of a long long winter
the tale of a heart lost forever.

On Run From Shadows

Stalked by shadows,
by ghosts of memory.
Hunted by creatures,
by beasts of history.

Claws of regret,
that rips the soul.
Rending the heart,
the choices of old.

Jaws of guilt,
that shatters bone.
Shredding the flesh,
past wrongful turns.

Glares of accusation,
from blood red orbs.
Assigning damnation,
for every tear and every sob.

Howls of vengeance,
from long dead throats.
Demanding due payment,
for sins and hurts.

Followed by spectres,
every second of each day.
unable to sleep to rest,
or even to pray.

Chased by monsters,
every step of the way.
till the ending moments,
then to the shadows must I pay.

Lending My Muse To Thee

Beyond copper wires,
twisted pair connectors.
I blow to thee a kiss,
I float to thee a wish,
in friendship.

Stylings of rhyme
arrangements of metres
lyrics that shine
rhythm that inspires.

Borne by sultry winds
riding on wings gilded
I lend to thee my muse
for this thine interlude.

Above and beyond
the whisperings of muses
knowledge and visions
the keys to greater prose.

All this and more
to thee I wish
upon the whisperings,
of this verse.

The Geography of My Life

My name is Hazlan Zakaria
my father was Haji Zakaria Haji Man
and my mother is Hajjah Rohani Ahmad
I was born in Malaysia
the country of my birth
to the race of Malays
in a multiracial land
with Chinese and Indians
I grew up friends
in all intermingled
a melting pot
cultural potpourri
but the best of course
is the confluence
of the arts culinary
the precursor to my generous belly

I began my life in Anak Bukit
the royal city for the state of Kedah
impatient to start I was born on the steps
of my grandparent's house as literal as it gets
quite a ways from the roads to the royal palace
sharing a hometown with my country's great
I trod upon the same grounds as Tun Dr. Mahathir Mohamed
my hero and Malaysia's Prime Minister once
a paragon of leaders and respected still
this state was also the home
to Malaysia's father of Independence
the Great Tunku Abdul Rahman Putra Al-Haj
a right royal prince
and a prince among men
or Bobby as he was known
by his fellow law students
and football buddies
while he studying in merry old England

Following my parents
I then lived in the state of Penang
once known as the Pearl of The Orient
taking my first steps upon this earth
learning to argue and mastering my girth
meeting my kiddy girlfriend at kindergarden's door
Allison I think was her lovely name
kiddy love if there ever was one
also had my first shiner here
a black eye that hurts as hell
given to me by a big bully boy named Johan
a name that until now I still remember when
we later met on in high school
I was larger and he was two thirds my height
about half my size a pint-sized guy
I could have crushed him there and then
a whimsy dream but I am not really into violence
unless really really pressed in advance
but then he could have been
a Karate black belt that could kick my shins
glad I never tried but I sometimes dream that I did

Then once before my late father passed
we took a trip with our entire family
on a pilgrimmage we took a trip
to the desert sands of Saudi Arabia
Visiting the holiest of Muslim lands
to the holy cities of Medina and Mecca
visiting the Ka'abah the Earthly House of God
the one built by the hands of the Prophet Ibrahim
at the sacred mosque of Masjidil Haram
to Masjidil Nabawi the Great Prophet's Mosque
and then on to Prophet Muhammad's tomb
contemplating my faith I walked through the dunes
of the deserts at the fields of Arafah
where the multitudes of faithful high and low
shared a tented landscape on a barren plain
a mirror of things to come in doomday's eve
at the endings of time in the Mashar plains

it was also here that I had a taste
of the written word and the fountain of knowledge
starting out as a very very curious child
I was asking questions and questioning all things
my father gave me three sets of encyclopedia
as a means of silencing my running mouth
Charlie Brown's Children Encyclopedia was the first
such a joy to read!
the second was the Children's Encyclopedia Britannica
nice but just whetted my appetites
finally my ticket to legends and tales
the Encyclopedia Britannica's full alphabetized set
I was in seventh heaven until I read the last page that is
of course then my father got me my own library card and thus it began
first the trips to school libraries then on to the district and on to state
the world of books and knowledge galore
then on I became a citizen of knowledge
my love of reading grew as well as my thirst for information and trivia

I stayed in Penang all through my years
six in primary school and another five in high school
learning all I could and travelling all around
trekking with the scouts or cycling with my friends
I was a debater and a performer of sorts
shining on the stage of public spectacles
chairing meetings masters of ceremonies
giving speeches loving public speaking
I even sang in the choir though no Pavarotti I was
acting in sketches and dramas I enjoyed the scene
a high school prefect I also became
heading the Beaureau of Investigation and Information
kinda like the disciplinary beaureau
handling spot checks and misbehaving students
but in all a sportsman I never was
the athletics clipboard I often hold
volunteering so as not to run the rigors
though to my surprise I did represent my sporting house
in shot putt and tug of war
as well as chess my favourite non computer game
and then an exam I had, SPM
or Malaysian Certificate of Education
getting good results a scholarship I won
and then off to college I went

To the great state of Pahang then in turn
the home of the great rain forest and Malaysian National Parks
to MARA Community College for my associate degree
it was a wonderful time a bachelor's dream
living on my own and with friends on a whim
learning the trade of scholar and computer schemes
as a peer counselor I was trained
a surprise even to me it seemed
but then I was roped in into the counseling club
more for my management skills rather than emphatic trims
to act as president in official matters
rather than things emotional and more personal
but my greatest thrills my greatest spills
is the time I spent with the English Society
an anomaly it seems
for my major is Computer Information Systems
and my Associate Degree is in science
but a great time I had therein this language club
chairing the Talkshow Unit and helping in our many many shouts
my English major contemporaries always had a grudge
held against me for in english lit.
public speaking and other english courses
I sometimes got the better of their grades in standings and classes
I certainly topped the charts in TOEFL
taken for my application to US colleges
scoring the highest in my class of Fall '94

In the fall of '96 I was accepted into the states
gaining a junior year entrance to the University of Miami
at the lovely town of Coral Gables
in the wonderful tropical state of Florida
apartment number 407 SW 74th Street
Sunset Square Apartments FL 33143
managed by a kind soul named Milo
was the domicile I had then
sharing with my distant uncle doing his masters
and a roommate who was a fellow graduate
from my days in MARA Community College
upon the wings of mighty Boeing
I flew on to this my next stage
leaving my country for the first time
on my own and somewhat alone in a distant land

this was when my moniker of Baronhawk was born
started out as my America On-Line screenname
it ended up becoming my nom de guerre in other things
I used it I think for all my web personas and online stints
in the online worlds of Ultima, Neverwinter Nights
and the tales of Dark Sun
except for in where HoraBorzaZorbul is my name
I was always a fan of hawks those deadly raptorial birds
and I got to know this movie from long ago
starring Michelle Pfeiffer and Rutger Hauer
along with the antics of the young Matthew Broderick
Lady Hawke was the movie's title
I fancied my self as the great Lord Hawk
alas that name was already taken
and I was left with Baronhawk
but in retrospect with no regrets
I made a really really good choice

quite as good as my choice of university it seems
the Sun Shine Uni. was quite the place to be
then land of endless summer not quite! mild winters do arrive
but babes in bikinis is still plenty all year round
quite a distraction but it made things great
I made some new friends in the thick of things
meeting with caucasian Spanish and Latin Americans
Afro Americans too as well as fellow Asians and some Europeans
an American lady aspiring to be an important government official
a German lady taking Nuclear physics her accent was sweet
an exquisite south american lady equestrianne extraordinaire
enough said I had a trip and quite readily had a treat

in the land of pink flamingos of Crockett and Tubs
MAC-10s Uzis strip clubs and South Beach big bikes
Coconut Grove nightclubs Saw Grass strip malls
Dadeland computer superstores Florida Keys hot spots
I was there too when that Versace guy was shot
not that I really cared for much just something to tell
the news about Princess Diana also hit me while here
it hit me hard I was a fan die hard
on a lighter side I also followed the tales of Tiger Woods
in his glorious win of the US open
sadly I even got to see two friends to prison sent
one guy got a gun and went to ask this girl why she did not love him
people always thought that I would be the first to be taken down by SWAT
I may be no redneck but a gun toting militia dude I was almost one
too much fascination with guns
bombs and stuff from the anarchists' cook book
but he beat me to the punch to that front page spread
the other tried to rape his own girl friend
needless to say he soon got to know that the state can press charges
without the victim's consent sexual assault and all that
I also came face to face with the problem of youths with drugs
thankfully I was never tempted to try out it never seemed cutting edge to me
but on coffee black and cherry cola coke
kosher hotdogs and Subway subs I was weaned

if any regret do I have it is that staying so close
to Busch Gardens, Disney World and Universal Studios
I never did sneak a peek too fascinated by the things on internet
three whole days straight I did sometimes spend
in front of the computer I vegetated for months
but I did get a trip squeezed in just before graduation
up north the east coast to the cities of Pennsylvania and Washington
visiting friends and seeing sights we were even stopped thrice
by cops looking for drugs, Florida Tags, foreign drivers enough said
nothing major but I hate the drug sniffing dogs wet nosed runts
then into the heartland did we turn into the great expense
of deserts and farms on lonely lonely drives through empty interstate towns
to Boulder, Colorado we then went again calling on some friends
we then went on a trek in the Colorado Mountain Home National Park
high up in the Rockies on those snowy capped peaks
I surprised a lot of people when I turned up
only wearing trekking sandals, jeans, varsity t-shirt and baseball cap
with thermal boxers underneath of course
it was a bit nippy out for the rest
but like coach Lubboch from Eight is Enough
I could probably sweat in a snowstorm's wake
we actually wanted to hunt we even got a hunting gun
no license needed unlike messy handguns
but alas the limit for that season was reached
we just enjoyed the beauty of nature's treat

then it was the long long way back
down central USA through Elvis Presley's home
in Memphis, Tennesee we stopped for a look see
later driving back through the highways' hoops
through Cherry Point MACS we completed the loop
Semper Fidelis a thoughtful collection of words
turning back into Miami through Florida hinterland
It was home for a while but now is the time to graduate
to pack up and leave to give back our service to nation and country
I graduated in '98 holding a BBA in Computer Information Systems
unlike some friends who chose to stay I and a few took the road home
in timely fashion too, days after I was gone on the wings of great Boeing
Florida and Miami was hit by a hurricane violent lucky me
we have had close calls before but never an evacuation order
so I bid farewell to Dan Marino, to Miami Dolphins
leaving Janet Reno and the Florida Panthers
feeling the last of Miami Heats, Biscayne Bay au revoir
I cheered my last for the teams Hurricanes of UM
hope they will continue to bludgeon the FSU Seminoles and FIU Gators both
A 'Cane once and forever will, I still receive alumni news now and then
though I may not be wielding those crossed warning flags hence

once home to Malaysia I did quite well
off the hook from repayment my scholarship was confirmed
I made the grade just made the cut, having grades as good as promised
then I started to apply for a career to start
raring to go and serve my nation
oh! the ambitions that I had then
but as I was setting my finances in order I discovered my inheritence
a small collection of investments to each sibling from my late father
just enough if properly distributed to allow me to survive without labors
of course I am living with my mother then
another advantage I presumed upon
so upon that light my job application began to thin out
as I live the live of a gentleman gamer and idle net surfer
without an expensive girlfriend no car nor house
no payments at all except for remittance of transfers
some utilities computer games and net surcharge
I was indeed a gentleman of leisure minus the titles and lands
on the sidelines I took up direct sales marketing to help trim my bills
somewhat like an Avon lady but I was the CNI man
premium household products was my part-time game
all in all I was enjoying myself but not growing in any meaningful anyway
except for my excellent example of award winning couch potato physique

two years past hence till my mother began to sound
the warning bells of concern as well as the expectancy of a daughter in-law
my older sister was already married and I was somewhat next in line
the year 2000 it was the new millenium as I was forced to get off my bum
and start out on my own not quite! I found another refuge
from my family home in Penang I moved on to the Klang Valley
in the state of Selangor near the Malaysian Federal Capital of Kuala Lumpur
this time with my sister I stayed paying rent in grocery bills
some utilities when I afford and in dinner out on me some rare nights
plus I am also the officially appointed baby sitter for my two rowdy nephews
and I add to that household chores and my favourite the dishwash duty
I stewed on for a while
but was later recruited by a relative of my brother in-law
conscripted into service in his real estate development company

thus began my paid career my jaunt into the world of the working man
I was in sales at first but I lack the cutting edge
I sold only four houses I think
so later I handled customer care management
doing relatively well for I am a nice guy
people seem more inclined to talk to me
in pleasing tones without the need for machetes
I handled the collection of ten percent down payments
and explaining our late projects
to our many many customers
quite a touchy issue it was
later I moved on to project market planning
and then on to project management
I was quite happy at first nearly doubling my pay in a year
ending up finally in management
the senior exec. serving below directors
but real estate was a touchy thing it grates on the very nerves
and I had to leave in the end it seemed that escape was my only cue

curtains down I exited stage left so ends my first working career
but I guess before I go on I need to explain this momentous event
that happened when I was working in my first career
herein my experience I met by chance
with an event that will change me as a man
it was during the first days in the firm that I was given an order
a training I was told to attend paid out of my own pocket too
authoritarian I was very sure but to keep my job I had to go
Asiaworks was it called an iffy type training based on experiental learning
large group awareness training was this genre called
I was a veteren of camps and trainings galore with a dissembling mind
so I was very confident striding into training for nothing fazes me!
I even took sociology and psychology in my college days
even ended up director of the college psychological exhibition
not to mention a trained peer counselor to boot yes! I know the tricks
I was ready indeed a veteran
the survivor of two Nation Building Camps ran by ex-commandos
Tiger Woods I may be not
but mentally tough I think I have got to some degree

the first stage the Basic was a piffy little thing
I did not even break a sweat
though I had to improvise a lot and acted out scripts that I prepared
to try and fit in with the crowd
I did quite well it seem
the trainer was a guy called Ken Ito I think
nothing major they just wanted people to realize how cheery the world is
despite the many troubles we impose upon
I somewhat disagree but it was sound enough
and it was here that I saw a girl that for some reason caught my eye
never really felt love before but this girl had all the makings
I never even knew why but I was hooked post hence
what a teaser this training was
both to love and to the real training that awaits

when Basic was over they asked us to sign into Advance
those that want to that is by now the training had no dues to me
in my mind was that girl I saw
so I signed up to continue despite misgivings galore
what can I do too shy to ask her number
my only chance was to follow her through training
so into Advance I rushed
headlong into the hands of a trainer named Mark Hampstead
a former top brass at Nestle or was it Johnson & Johnson
he was a tough son of a gun
here I met my bane my descend
into the dreaded pits of questionings and self estuary
partly faked partly real I trudged along in this dismal hell
my scripted tales and rehearsed parts began to suffer for lack of direction
I guess I was forced to learn a thing or two improvisations and such
some of the training here I get others I hate till today oh! that dreadful Mark
but here I learn to question my wastrel ways
and thought of my former ambitions
I did started out wanting to change the world
before I was blunted by bitter cynicism
Advance was hell but it touched a sore spot
and I got to spend time in a group
with that girl I was talking about

Advance ended and we graduated I even got my contract with the world
"I am a loving, powerful and honest man"...indeed
quite real I guess, even enjoyed the task but my guards are up
my armor reformed immediately upon my return
alas I was still shy the lady I followed is still clueless
guess what another call up, to LP or Leadership Program this time
and guess what I signed up, following that lady again
LP38 was our name and our motto was "Love Brightens The World"
would you believe it I came up with that phrase! Hah! if there ever was

my LP days was an eye opener of sorts
but I was never honest so my goals were none-existant
dare I say that my sole goal was to get the girl?
never! not in a million years
so I made up a list of achievements that I think would look good
pacifying my mentor and fellow group members
ahh our small group...we were called the "The Silverhawks" after the cartoon
nine people of various ages, multi-races and diverse backgrounds
LP was nice in a way, I even achieved some of my minor fake goals all's well
in three months that followed I even met some good good friends
the likes of which I can only find before in long time childhood friends
such is the value of their friendships that great grouping of souls

when the LP ended I was bouyed for a while
floating upon the energy of my past months triumphs
but I was still shy for a spell so the lady will have to wait a while
but in other things I moved on along changed my job to a second career
this a position less senior with a company more smaller
but in a company that size I was again basically running the place
handling operations for my boss
whose mastery was trade and business contracts
if anyone could sell ice cubes to eskimos my new boss was probably could
such cunning debonair that he liked to fashion himself a legal conman
selling real goods but with such flair as making people do his bidding
I was paid lesser but I looked at it as a training position
my lever into learning the intricacies of trade
and the politics of business
I did learned a lot even got a beautiful secretary
another reason to stay in office
I got unlimited claims in the conduct of duties
and a petty cash expense account that I monitor and refill
the perks of the job did I mention the lovely secretary?
my only complain was that every corespondent and every letter
I have to dictate word for word, I guess I was always a little fussy
when it comes to the words written on paper I expect a certain quality
error I myself still make but I expect flair as well as styling tips
after operations I moved up a notch
handling research and conceptual designs
paving the way for my boss's foray into his trades into his deals
nice thing it was for I got involved in many things
locomotives once and then marine diesel parts
vegetable one day even fire extinguishers sometimes
then he came in with a bullet proof vest that he threw on my lap
"wear it" he says we are going to the gunnery range to test this out!!!
other days it could be prawns, oysters or just plain fish
one day I was even asked to to look for tanks and mobile bridge
another it was a used plane fuselage for anti-terrorist drills
I even had the task once of writing the proposals for government buildings
such varied tasks and wonderful times preparing myself for my own business

but then this house of cards by a gust of wind knocked out
falling to pieces and dissappearing to rubble heaps
firstly was my foray into love
after months of building courage I finally tested the waters
asking the lady that I have blindly followed
and telling her of my love that I hold her dear
alas she said I was just a friend this to me a mortal blow
I brood and brood for days on end losing the bravado that I once present
maybe I should have pursued her more but my attempts at courting her
from that day forth never bore fruit nor even any glimmer of promise stood
I was hurt wounded and lost in the dreary aftermath
the second stage of my downfal is my interesting but demanding job
I am called upon almost twenty four seven every hours in all possible use
it could be that I am the dim-wit but before me my predecessor did quit
and I found out later that after I left two of my successors did too quit
maybe I could not handle the strain or is my boss demanding too much?
but in all he was a good friend who was earnest in teaching me the ropes
but I guess few people can stand him at hand other than as a friend
indeed so broken was I that I no longer has any passion for work at all

alas now the geography of my life has left me here
stranded upon this spreadeded map
marooned in despair full of defeat
tired and burnt out in a crisis mid strife
a hermit I became hiding in retreat in the shadows of the mountains
far inland and in valleys deep
but even hermits has expenses and my savings have nearly run out
spent on the training, on a car and the expensive habits
of in-city living during my working days
so I am back to being a job seeker of sorts
filling out job applications now and then

a struggling freelance writer sometimes
I had a few jobs beforehand doing write-ups for people
I even went in to help out my former boss when he had a heart attack
then a few projects here and there but now its trickling out
I have a few books in the pipeline but nothing major yet
so before I can start pitching my tales to publishers
I must await my works endings
I have a few great ideas but nothing concrete

a starving poet aspirant at times
my love of poetry and indeed the written word runs truly deep
but I have never been quite as prolific as I am now
so I write poetry now and then crying out my heart
the only way I know how to
nursing my hurts healing my wounds
some people thinks its nice some people don't agree
but I guess it helps me
and it is a dream of mine to be a published poet of name
still here and I am still hoping to see

this is my life I guess
a slice of the tale that I have lived
but in all no regrets for whatever happened
I have found again my dream of dreams
in my dreams I am
poet warrior
philosopher king
perchance my words and thoughts will live on
to be spoken by men still unborn
in tounges yet still unknown
and in countries yet still unnamed
if you would permit me
to paraphrase Shakespear
in his telling of the play Julius Caesar
to be immortal if not in person
then in thoughts and spirit
for every utterance of my words
are the telling of my name
the markers of my place
in that undying place
in the minds of women and men
even perhaps inside their hearts of hearts
this is a dream I have
this is my life I guess
beyond that I leave to faith
and to my god Allah Allmighty.

The Tally of My Tales; The Story of My Life

I was a babe
then a child
later a boy
and now a man

twenty seven years
have I seen post hence

and yet in summation
in the accounting of my life

I have not but a thing
no markers of my path

I have lived the days
savored the nights
walked the miles
and stood the years

but what a waste
for I have not
left any traces
in the tally of my tales

no place to call a home
no lady to call a wife
no children to call my own
no career to rant and rave
no friends to laugh in turn
no dreams to carry on
no pictures of places I've known
no stories of things I've done
no deeds dismal or great
no proof of that I am

twenty seven years
have come and gone

what of the time
that I have left

at the crossroads
am I now
where should I go
what more to do

should I scurry
back into line
living the life
of mundane means

even though its the same
as was before
with results
in the likeness of yesteryears

or should I strive
to break the mold
to pursue this dream
that I still hold

to risk all
and give the rest
to stand tall
and be the best

or perhaps to shun
this wicked world
to sever all ties
and break all oaths

why should I give
and give and give
when all I get
is less and less

but the last of choices
the breakings of faiths
is to welcome oblivion
drowning in its touch

to sleep the sleep of sleeps
to lay down this mantle of years
to slumber in endless deeps
to slit this vein of tears

at a crossroads am I
after twenty seven
long long years
where should I go
what more to do
with the tally of my years.

What Am I...

What am I
upon this stage
what is my role
in the poetic niche

am I an engineer
of words upon words
workman like
of stones upon brick

are my words
put upon
to contain

a monument
to my pride
my egoistical
self esteem

am I a product
of my mind
build upon
my vocabulary's boon

stripped down
to the core
nothing more
a facade of cocoons

or am I an artist born
who stalks the earth
with artful strides
poetically shorn

spewing words
born of storm
passionate bursts
of soulful prose

meaning all
that was said
and behind those
are other traits

silver tounged
and golden lips
torrents of bountiful
deep deep quips

and the wit
oh what wit
the sharpest tool
in the kit

or perhaps a philosopher
born to brood
of scornful whimpers
and dark dark moods

with a mind
that would'nt quit
nary a time
thinking deep

every essence
to be questioned
every thought
to be challenged

likely old
before due time
flooded by cares
that wrinkles skin

but worst
from all the rest
this giddiness
and restless stress

and lastly perhaps
a lost lost soul
searching through cracks
for a meaning to attach

lost in the meadows
of bitter grasses
struggling in the muddy
mires of regrets

crying out in sorrow
and in angry shouts
craving for a morsel
of faith and fate

trapped in a place
with no way out
the only course
is to rave and shout

the lonely lonely mutterings
of a wandering soul
the sad sad sputterings of
a torch running out.

Whimsical Meanderings From The Song of Songs

Upon the gentle blowing of the evening breeze
in the fading rays of the setting sun
I see the past and future streaming by
billowed by the winds of time

visions flying on the wings of hope
dreams floating on the wisps of love
tales that tells of things from long ago
stories that stirs the thoughts of tomorrow

beyond this veil of space and time
I see across the lands of fate
soaring on the tides of truth
breaking from the coils of mortal ken

diving in the depths of memory
swimming in the pools of celestial sense
tasting the fruits of Eden's glen
shuddering in delight and ecstasy

waking up in the green green dale
in the valley of fantasy
on the isle of wishful whims
upon the flight of fanciful dreams

but in this wakeful world of ours
I still see the makings of a dream
the stories and tales that we might still tell
for the world still has a lot to achieve

upon our hopes and dreams are pinned
the futures and pasts that we have planned
so ride the rainbows and bestride the earth
making it as beautiful and as wonderful as we can.

I Am One, I Am Humanity

I am one,
I am humanity,
am I done,
am I to be.

I live once,
in many splintered minds,
in separate bodies of flesh,
that decays over time,
I forget a lot,
of what I once knew,
lost to death,
except for records kept,
many thoughts,
none converge,
many feelings,
interlocked but diverse,
many visions,
all different confused,
many voices,
all discordant confound,
many beliefs,
inherently unsound.

Now I live in many bodies,
made of flesh and metal parts,
but in one mind single conscience,
united by proton sparks,
I live forever eternally,
unbothered by time,
I know all omniscience,
remembering all things,
many minds,
but one thought,
many hearts,
but one feeling,
many eyes,
but one vision,
many mouths,
but one voice,
one belief,
and one choice.

I am one,
I am humanity,
am I done,
am I to be?


Across the spectrum of light,
I see my likeness appear.
Upon surfaces that reflects,
a landscape in reverse temper.

Dancing on shining mirrors,
its moves dazzles the sight.
Tiptoeing on sparkling waters,
its grace reflects the light.

It hides in shimmering haze,
that flickers to follow the heat.
It rides the puzzling mirages,
that the desert tries hard to keep.

Though it shines, it dazzles,
sparkles and reflects.
The portraits it painted,
are often only half correct.

Distorted by the lens,
of fate and happenstance.
The reflections are blurred,
by the dust of circumstance.

But crueler than the rest,
are mirrored in one's eyes.
The most poignant of tests,
the reflected image of one's selves.

Focused by harsh prisms,
upon the stark iris of the eye.
The weighted scales of self-criticism,
mercilessly measures by and by.


To steal a gaze of the
to catch a glimpse of
infinite power.

Lose yourself in the
raise your worhip to
ultimate rapture.

Upon higher plains clear
decked by spiritual
crystalline sculptures.

Following in the steps of the
in the blessed wake of
angelic messengers.

Reaching the plains of the
listening to the music of
divine whispers.

Beginning the steep and silent
climbing the steps of
celestial ladders.

Arriving at the tiers peaceful
of gentle sleep and
eternal slumber.

In the gardens of fabled
in the golden chambers of
God's utopia.

The Whimsy of A Man

I am a man,
a mortal man,
without wings nor the gifts of flight,
with two feet firmly planted on mortal grounds.

But my dreams,
my mortal visions,
doth conceive to wonder,
of heaven and the lands beyond.

even those who crawl,
lift their heads now and then,
that is when most will catch a glimmer,
of the lovely flights of angels and the graces of celestial lands.

oh the pain!
out of mortal reach,
but close enough in wishful visions,
the curse of mortals living under heaven's celestial majesty.

a refrain,
upon a fool's tale,
a telling of mortal dreams,
the many efforts doomed to certainly fail.

you can jump,
all that you want,
but no one has ever broken the back of gravity,
nor propelled to the heavens upon the jumps of mortal feet.

you can fly,
on borrowed wings like Icarus,
made of feathers and quick dry glue,
but soar as you will towards heaven's sight,
the sun's heat will soon your hopes do melt.

you can climb,
on moonbeam ropes,
or the silken rays of mighty sun,
but comes the ending of day or night,
will you fall the long long way down.

how then can a man,
follow the wake of his one true angel,
chasing after that lovely seraph that he saw for only once,
how can a man reach heaven and the lands beyond,
to catch his one chance at romance.

the whimsy of a man,
of a heart captured by an angel divine,
of a path restricted by unmoving destiny and uncaring chance,
pondering upon his fate and dreaming of better things,
that might never come.

An Ode To An Ice Queen

Upon icy slopes
caressed by freezing winds
on a frozen mountain top
the Ice Queen holds her court

sitting upon a throne of snow and ice
flanked by icicles as javelin strikes
adorned by jewels of snowy drops
white, delicate, preciously regal

clad in royal garments of pure silver white
made of snowflakes linked by frozen tears
her hair as ebony raven jet black
flowing down beyond cold shoulders

her beauty is etched in ice
a face sculptured to perfection
cold blue-black lips frozen in a smile
mocking, inviting, deathlessly cynical

and her eyes.. oh her terrible eyes..
those twin pools of musty earthly brown
irising upon harsh wintry white orbs
with daggers for looks, an icy cold that freezes souls

but beyond this frozen layer
beneath the icy facade
lies a heart that beats violent thunders
whose caring alone could floor, the oceans of the world

in her gentle tender care
through her wrist-bone breaking lessons
many an errant spaced out cadet
learned to walk, tiptoeing on terrestrial lands

upon leaving these frozen freezing landscapes
on my way to warmer springtime thaws
I looked fondly to these gentle wintry mountains
where the Ice Queen holds her court.

To Thee O Sweet Angel

To thee O sweet angel,
I give my total obeisance,
upon thy lovely mantel,
I place my soul's license.

To thee,
the treasures of this earth,
thy hair,
that flows as precious silk,
thy skin,
as smooth as ivory tips,
thine eyes,
as green as emerald deeps,
thy lips,
arrayed with rubies red,
these jewels
adorn thy peerless grace.

To thee,
the thresholds of heaven,
the stars,
I did pluck to adorn,
thy face,
of consummate perfection,
thy grace,
eclipses the moon,
the skies,
are but reflections,
thy beauty,
that even angels long.

To thee,
the pleasures of this world,
thy touch,
that brims with sumptuous delights,
thy voice,
that brings shudders to my soul,
thy looks
that brings tremors to my heart,
thy kiss,
the tender stirrings of lust,
thy love,
sweet answers to dreams.

To thee my sweet angel,
upon this delicate gentle rhyme,
I deliver this precious parcel,
this tender love I have for thine.

Of Poetry and Passion

The beginnings of my motions
upon the poetic stage,
began long ago
in my youthful age.

But the stirrings of passion
within my mortal shards,
began but a while ago
with the breaking of my heart.

Amidst the chatterings
of friendly acquaintance,
In vain I tried
to gain her attention.

Until after a spell
of awful silence,
did she inquire
as to my intentions.

"Nothing and everything" I replied
leaving her question unanswered,
"ah, the poet speaks"
was the response she tendered.

Thus I lay my aching heart
delicately upon the line,
whispering to her ears
my tales of love sublime.

"I'm flattered" she replied
but to her I am just a friend,
I took it all in stride
but my heart will never ever mend.

In the well of my emotions
is a wound that disappoints,
the rejections of love
a pain that never ends.

I once heard of this
a tale told by friends,
"you must be hurt"
"before you can lift the writer's pen".



In a suit of gleaming armor
a weapon gripped in hand,
upon a steed of ardent vigor
galloping off to foreign lands.

Rides a soldier into battle
as brave as ancient kings,
showing off his mettle
on fields, blood red tinged.

So rides the champion
to the battlefields of war,
for beliefs, for convictions
for honor and for valor.


In a suit of lovely satin
a flower gripped in hand,
on a strapping white stallion
prancing gracefully in a dance.

Gallops the hopeful suitor
as handsome as Cassanova,
wooing his lady lover
with prose and with bravura.

So rides the champion
to the battlefields of love,
for the hand of his maiden
the greatest of treasure troves.


In a suit of perfect reason
armed with wit in hand,
upon a steed of persuasion
with logic in defense.

In true scholastic fashion
debating their behests,
mixing intellectual passion
with words that could gouge flesh.

So rides the champion
to the battlefields of reason,
in defence of opinions
enshrining dissertations.


In a suit of past experience
with knowledge and beliefs instilled,
upon the steed of history's lessons
covered by wisdom's shield.

In the face of fates untold
through the tales of futures unknown,
charging ahead, reckless and bold
reaping the graces of deeds once sown.

So rides the champion
to the battlefields of life,
through pleasures and pains
and the flavorings of life.

Martial Glory

I am a man nothing more
ordinary and mundane.
With some wit a dash of lore
and a penchant to entertain.

But my hopes my glory
lies in martial dreams.
Oh how I wished literally
to burst history's seams.

To return and discover
the glory that war does bring.
Of honor and of valor
Oh! how sweetly will battle sing.

To ride the windy steppes
with the hordes of Genghis Khan.
Conquering the cities of Europe
with Attila and his Huns.

To be knighted by King Arthur
questing with his knights
For Charlemagne donning armor
a truly splendid sight.

To serve with Alexander
on his march across the world.
To follow Julius Ceasar
in his conquest of the Gauls.

To wield a sharp katana
with the samurais of Tokugawa.
To unify the kingdoms of China
under it's first divine emperor.

With Agamemnon swords drawn
onwards to Troy for Helen of reknown.
Arriving with Athenians in the dawn
to the battlefields of Marathon.

These countless tales of yore
the stories of untold valor.
Alas! only in dreams or literature
can these tales I really savor.

Israk Mikraj, A Celestial Journey

Upon the wings of the Burak
on lofty currents of winds divine
rode the prophet Muhammad
on the journey of all time

from Mecca to Jerusalem
in the blinking of an eye
to Al-Aqsa the sacred mosque
to the golden dome of the rock

from hence into the clouds
across the seven layers of sky
from the base realms of mortal ken
to celestial precincts of Al-Arash

there on to face the prophets before
to learn their wisdom, lessons and lore
then on to God in receipt of grace
the final commandments for beings of faith

into heaven was then arranged
a tour of Eden the penultimate domain
tales and visions of God's abundance
the gifts and rewards of absolute devotion

a glimpse of hell's fiery domain
a reminder for the faithful to keep in mind
oh! the horrors that lie within
for infidels and those who have sinned

in the space of one night
this journey begins and ends
reminding us of God's might
the infinite the most divine.

My Drive Through Life

Through the windows of my car
I see the present speeding far
in rear view mirrors on each side
visions of the past that will soon hide

beyond my windshield spreads a tale
the story of future things to hail
miles and kilometres counted by
numbers that clicks and needles that fly

the dust and soil that caress
upon spinning wheels that knows no rest
fed on air and fueled by gas
following signposts and lines upon maps

on lengthy highways and local routes
towards destinations and commutes
tons of baggage in my trunk
the essentials of passage and collected junk

plumes of smoke will soon obscure
the glances of past that once was here
beams of light will illuminate
the murky depths of future's state

between meals under diner's eaves
I reflect upon my lifetime at ease
while filling up under station's roof
where am I going still seeking proof

on lonely drives in the heat of summer
should I lend ride to any hitchhiker
in the towns I see in many travels
should I flirt with waitressess and farm bred girls

sometimes troubling bugs would splatter
soiling my windshield with insect matter
animals are often on the road to wander
hit by my wheels they flatten and shatter

on bumpy roads and slippery streets
I could break axles and crash into pits
it is sometimes just as well to stop
to call for help or tows to workshops

in the monotony of the drive
the silence of the sleep deprived
I turn on the radio to hear the songs
that gives comfort as I sing along

upon the blacktop I am the king
speeding fast like I have wings
untill the cruiser its siren sound
tickets and citations to me abound

I wonder where and until when
my drive through life would find its end
but whatever fate my journey wields
I will turn the ignition and take the wheels.

A Spark of Hope

Deep inside of every heart
in the depths of every soul
hides a tiny spark of light
that retains the hopes of old

a spark of hope that lights up love
that brightens all and fills the world
a vessel that soars us all above
and wings that lifts our very souls

when all is dark and black throughout
just seek that spark to light your way
launch your boat and paddle out
say goodbye to that dismal quay

drown not in tears and hopeless cries
lift up your head uplift you heart
just let the light to fill your eyes
and shine your way to better starts

deep inside of troubled hearts
in the depths of tortured souls
there still lies a spark of light
the hopes and dreams that life still holds.

From Child To Man

In infancy I was born with stars in my eyes
a curiosity well formed and a thirst for discovery
my tomorrows were of hope and promises that lasts
never on my own for I thrived in company.

As a kid I became a student of humanity
learning all I could from examples before me
in lessons handed down from the dawn of history
soaking up all I hear and everything that I can see.

In my youth I learned that even stars will die
curiosity will thaw out slaked by reality
my hopes were aloof and promises hard to come by
sifting through friends for trust is a rarity.

As a teen I explored the bounds of possibilities
testing potentials and marking my boundary
through the turbulence of fate and its pecularities
I began to shape my thoughts and my identity.

In manhood I know well to keep my eyes on the ground
curiosity killed the cat and upset the applecart
for hope oft disappoints and promises are empty sounds
alone and on my own a balm to my bleeding heart.

As an adult I have felt the bitter pangs of defeat
having tasted my own blood after I was punched by fate
stumbling along upon my wobbly and tired feet
I brace for my impact on to mortality's gate.

The Worth of A Man

What worth is a man
in the face of history
the records of his time
his life's pecularities

is he full of convictions
driven to destiny
or a product of conditions
lead on by opportunity

the weighing of the scales
does confound absolutely
for the measuring of tales
differs with individuality

annals of the past
a constant ambiguity
his reasons and repast
are buried indefinately

at the counting of the years
a tally of his deeds
for the sum total that appears
is he did what he did

ask not the motivation that drives a man
its the same by intention as it is by chance
what matters most in the very end
his leap into fate in the face of circumstance.

A Galaxy of Stars

In vain I once hoped
to hold together this sprinkling of stars
Trying hard to grab hold
of a past that's gone too far.

In envy I once desired
to keep close these sparks of light
To always look above
and never be alone at night.

In selfishness I once tried
to anchor them at bay.
Keeping all their lights
in the province where I stay.

Alas, for all my deeds
are but whispers in the winds.
In the face of the world
and destiny's stormy whims.

Upon the velvet of the night
floating on celestial streams.
Spreads the stars out of sight
into their places into dreams.

I stood alone on the ramparts
a heavy sadness in my soul.
To see dear friends drift apart
to the four corners of the world.

But then I was awakened
from the reverie of my plight.
For my skies have not darkened
I can still see their points of light.

Rejoice! I did indeed
for I know that they are still here.
not as near as they once did
but just enough to still my fears.

Even in the vast reaches of space
the stars are still close to my heart.
They shine like torches brightly lit
spreading good cheer to distant parts.

In the place of memories I will still find
this galaxy of stars, this gathering of friends.
All I have to do to remember those times
is to look up at night to my dear dear friends.


On a silent mountain
ringed by enemy steel
stood the lonely defenders
martrys living still

sons of ancient warriors
fathers of proud family
fighting men of valor
legends of bravery

in the teeth of death
facing savage destiny
they scream their last breaths
in defiant litany

pierced by deadly bullets
slashed by wicked blades
their bodies stood testament
to their courage and bloody fates

crimson rivers of blood
sacrificed for loyalty
a legacy that survives
in honor and memory

as the birds of carrion
to the battle scene surveys
the trees bow in reverence
the wind's farewell trumpets play

quiet flights of angels
lifts from broken bodies
their souls serene surreal
straight to heaven upon celestial eddies.

In The Shadows of My Heart

In the shadows of my heart,
where darkness lies.
In the deepest blackness,
lurks bitter cries.

In the woods of the future,
hunts apparitions of terror.
In the forest of the past,
stalks regrets and sorrow.

In the echoes of my thoughts,
where the promise dies.
In the vanishing whispers,
sings a choir of lies.

In the seas of promise,
where garlanded angels fly.
Are now deceitful waters,
where broken spectres die.

In the pits of my soul,
where hope is lost.
In the bottomless abyss,
floats grief and loss.

In the temple of hope,
once worshipped by doves.
Its altar now broken,
torn apart by wolves.

In the corners of my mind,
where dreams are tossed.
In the forgotten alcoves,
sleeps failure and its cost.

In the threshold of dreams,
where visions once thrived.
Stood the institude of reason,
where imaginations are excised.

Twin Towers

Motes of dust,
shards of glass,
and slivers of iron.

Are all that's left,
of mankind's lust,
to reach the heavens.


Silver Angel
that flits about
bringing songs
to the devout

Under eaves
of silver clouds
like floating leaves
on windy shrouds

Lilting winds
that softly caress
feathered wings
flapping abreast

In the bosom
of God's abundence
lies heaven
and all its pavillions

Nurtured by love
and friendly compassion
bringing hope
and joyful reverence.

The Pillars of My Faith

is my god
the one
the only

his messenger
the paragon
of humanity

The Qur'an
is my guide
a celestial

The angels
who serves
will to be

brings the end
to all creation's

My fate
my happenstance
are by determinations
and possibilities.

A Question of Life

Beyond vision
in vivid clarity
in absolute silence
I understood completely

the cost and credence
of successful continuity
within the compliance
of my ambiguity

the threshold of dreams
sheltered ambitions
unbounding the thrills
of current notions

within the outskirts
of intellectual persuasion
lies the scourge
of familiar reason

inside the heart
of logical collusion
sits pride
the corrupting passion

upon fate's brow
the mantel of infinity
on the prowl
the reins of destiny

to live and to feel
of love and its loss
to hurt and to heal
understanding its costs.

An Ode to History

Upon the walls of Carthage
in manicured Persian gardens
within temples of the Greeks
on the road with Roman legions

my thoughts and imagination does seek
the pinnacle and pitfalls of ambition
the triumph of empires over the meek
the rise and fall of nations

upon the tips of bloodied spears
in the clashing of swords upon bare shields
the flights of arrows and javelin hurls
the blood well-spilt upon the fields

across the counting of the years
in the writings of history's quill
spreads a vista of terror and tears
the price of power that we so wield

along the meanderings of the Nile
upon the tides of the Mediterranean
following the Indus in its guile
along the ridges of the Andean

silent ruins that marks the miles
of mankind's route to reach for reason
history's attempt and concerted try
to ascend and forge a civilized existence

in the Oracle of Delphi
within the chambers of Amun
in the annals of prophecy
hidden in sacred tombs

the secrets of divinity
a glimpse of tomorrow looms
sins of the past its progeny
the price of future's boon

upon the tongues of teachers
in the scribblings of scribes
within the lectures of elders
upon the poets' artistic stride

the songs and tales that gathers
the constant prevailing of tides
trickling sand that measures
every hour that existence bide.

within splendours of abandoned cities
on sleeping pigments upon lost scrolls
inside the dreams of slumbering deities
tales and legends passed down from the old

timeless lessons of antiquity
whispers of truth countlessly told
pearls of wisdom transcending eternity
for all to wonder, reap and behold.
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