Baronhawk's Nest

Diiring pagi
bagai merpati
dua sejoli
kini bersemi.

Moga bahgia
ke hujung dunia
dara teruna
ikrar bersama.

Ku pinta doa
pada yang Esa
aman selama
kekal sentiasa.

Bermadu kasih
sesuci selasih
pinang di pipih
di susun sirih.

As the shine and warmth
yellow smile of sun
you light the dark and gloom
make my day all fine.

As the playful roam
the naughty winds up high
you make a breeze of life
gave me cause to smile.

As the moon at night
the soft spoken heart
you soothe the beast inside
make me laugh aloud.

As the stars all bright
the guiding light of soul
you fill the empty parts
make me once more whole.

In the deep I find solace
in the dark safely encased
the spark excised hope-dead
reality the only thread

the depths my saving grace
the surface futility sealed
a dreamer forever clipped
broken wings submerged by fate.

Tis the pommel and the blade
Well-used, oft-wielded
carbon edge, honed
leather grip, toned

sharp of sheen, razor shone
lacerating skin, tearing bone
but the pain it works, last the most
on rejected hearts, forthwith remorse

cold stark steel, dulled-grey hearts
born to feel, eclipsed inside
forlorn worn shorn, teared-up torn
sheathed slashed stabbed, love-lorn.

Distance divide us
regulations forbade
this instance of happiness
I cannot evade.

Our eyes keep brushing
quick smiles exchanged
my heart keep singing
your gaze my refrain.

Your voice my compass
your presence His boon
this rose I covet
you and I, to bloom.

"Let me tell you that I love you, that I think of you all the time"
~ Caledonia

Words and more I have aplenty, feeling like I want to fly
deep within my heart completely, beats the song of you and I.
~ Hazlan

"Somewhere over the rainbow, way up high.
There's a land that I heard of, once in a lullaby.
Somewhere over the rainbow skies are blue.
And the dreams that you dare to dream, really do come true."
~ Over The Rainbow

I cast my dreams aloft, to swim the midnight seas.
A wish to thee I craft, my heart upon shy sleeves.
~ Hazlan

Many years go by,
many more than I.
Lonely times of sigh,
as merry laughter die.

And the breadcrumbs falls,
washed away by tears.
Days long gone,
never re-appear.

In memory dances,
what was once real.
The melody prances,
but the pain endures.

Walk I the shadows,
in the river of doubts.
Swimming against tides,
falling into dark.

FALLING INTO DARK

*Audio here

Tis' a belated wish
the anniversary of thy birth,
my sincere most gist
the profound at thine harbour berth.

To cull the notes of sound
and sing to thee music,
to return to thee by pound
the beauty of a world with thee in it.

Happy Birthday Sabah!

It's been a while. Keep healthy and stay safe. If the fates be ever so kind may it find time to engineer us another meeting.

Else may the 'Que Sera' of time fills our lives with gentle tidings. For as we look back, t'was fortunate to have brushed each other in passing.
...
Hazlan "Albatross" Zakaria

They say that we are stranded upon the earth
betwixt mortal grounds and eaves of heaven
...the skies the door to His Grace, the vestibule of His Faith
If such is the case, then birds and avians are His Messengers
who flit and float upon the currents, dancing the windy eddies
those who share that eternal secret, the gateway to paradise and back.

They rise with the sun and dive with the moon, skirting the in-between
delivering His Message to four corners and his boon to yon borders
chirps and happy chuckles singing of His Power, His Praise
the lilt of wings a breezy graceful counterpart to their traipse
But some deign to descend and spend their lives upon the ground
forgoing the free far skies for the company and love of Man(and woman).

Like all angels tenanting, the ranks of heaven-sent messengers,
their time are tied to reason, their praise endears them His Pardon
as all must make the final climb, that flight into the heavens
to break this mortal bond and face of His Benevolence
as we grieve, his time ended, as we breathe, celestial winds churned
let him go, to the crux of destinations, time and place as marked by Providence.

As he was borrowed, so must he now be returned.
Celebrate the memories, ignite the moments
for his time was not to make ye grieve
but to join him in His Praise.

* A poem written to commemorate the final journey of Conrad the Parrot, friend, family member and loyal companion to a dear friend, Janet Steele.

A little bit of RUMI to salve Auden's search in O Tell Me the Truth About Love, for there is no answer to what love is, but for the experience and deed of it. You can only know it when you find out and its only description is the notes of its song sung out.

EACH NOTE
by ...Rumi

Advice doesn't help lovers!
They're not the kind of mountain stream
you can build a dam across.

An intellectual doesn't know what the drunk is feeling!

Don't try to figure what those lost inside love will do next!

Someone in charge would give up all his power,
if he caught one whiff of the wine-musk
from the room where lovers are doing who-knows- what!

One of them tries to dig a hole through a mountain.
One flees from academic honors.
One laughs at famous mustaches!

Life freezes if it doesn't get a taste
of this almond cake.
The stars come up spinning
every night, bewildered in love.
They'd grow tired with that revolving, if they weren't.
They'd say, "How long do we have to Do this!"

God picks up the reed-flute world and blows.
Each note is a need coming through one of us,
a passion, a longing-pain.

Remember the lips
where the wind-breath originated,
and let your note be clear.
Don't try to end it .
BE Your Note.
I'll show you how it's enough.

Go up on the roof at night
in the city of the soul.

Let Everyone climb on their roofs
and sing their notes!

Sing loud

"What greater thing than thought, to beat back the gloom of clime. For no storm nor hazy murk, can best the heart-mind sunshine. What is, is. But what you make of it, are the vessels which holds the best of times."

"... count cloudy puffs o'er waves as the sun sinks past, dipping into night across dreamy horizon, amidst decking creaks and sea gull squawks."

‎"If you do what you love, everything else will follow. Being with one you love, makes everything better."

"I sometimes wonder, how cruel is fate, to have brought into play all the merits of circumstance, only to push away that which I craved for, yearned and want."

"The world takes no notice of defeat, glorifying only the win. Those without surfeits, walks slow alone and grim."

"...hates it when the hero dies, such is the world, but maybe it's better blaze away in glory than to await the inevitable in obscurity."

I sat before this four square screen, trying to find the words to mention. Something which had found within, my ebony heart its residence. Beating a clear tattoo, throughout the irony of my veins. It rides the breathing living lust, which toils the lull within my liens.

I pondered the name by which, this inane itch is called. Hoping perhaps, for its exuberance to be culled. I poised dancing upon the cusps, the identity of this blight. What magicked intransigent spell, into my soul's grimoire inscribed? What language is this persistence, which to mind remains in-unraveled?

I found the answer near to dreams, sidetracked to a place time forgot. A sideshow I closed down and sought to frame with logic thoughts. Tis love it seems, that one time thing I choose regret. What succour it might bring,laid heavy with suffering's debt.

On this day where this emotion is awed, I look down the path beyond time's borrowed flaws. To find myself longing still, the pathways to it brightly lit and opened grille. It is ye I yearn, thou who sits beyond those gates. Calling me to hurry on, and supplicate before thy feet.

"But wouldst thou take the hand, of this jest of so many defeats. A man who seeks to learn what happiness left there is to give. Who is afraid to yearn lest he falls once more upon his feet. Who is afraid to call and ask of ye to wait."

Today I walked the secret skies
traversing mysterious lady night
caressing her silken velvet skein
against whom light would grow to dark

when I heard the clear silence
the call of still skies beckoning
raising my chin supplicating
I lift the veil to my subconscious

to find starlit Orion offering
baring to me his hunter's belt
which led the way to constellations
the north most star light in the sky

I gaze into the bright of night
to hear Rumi whispering
I listened deep inside my heart
to see Rumi smiling

“Your task is not to seek for love,
but merely to find anon
the barriers within yourself
which rail and toil against”

"Lovers don't meet somewhere
they exist always in each other
love is finding that secret sky
where veils are torn and hearts a-flutter"

"To love one must let go of life
to take that final leap of faith
for only the heart can let you fly
to be the beauty of what you seek.”

Discussing 'peculiar' Ginseng tea
cultural cutlery conventions
presiding over delicacies
local exotic foreign

her head flipped back
silky strands dancing black
eyes bright interesting
laughter crystal tinkling white

Was Alexander great?
homosexuality in ancient Greece
unraveling catharsis
philosophical liturgical dictates

leaves adorned her
delicious ears soft Gazelle neck
precious worked metals
titillating sensual exquisite

Wild tales culinary escapades
driving crowded Indian streets

sugar toothed Gujerati sweets
ivory teethed Punjabi wheat

mountain top toe nail loss
sleepy isolated Chinese village

her subtly perfumed invisible whiffs
dreamy eyes and sultry lips

I floated yon
drunk upon the moment
looks smiles ideas sentences
feeding hungry baited subconscious

she dished out Schopenhauer
over perfectly parceled Sushi treats
accented English colourful wit
with a Creole-French Mauritian twist.

I am enslaved,
to these tonal caress.
Gentleness' tongue,
tenderness' voice.

Furtive Seraphims,
notes dancing into song.
Sensual to the touch,
elegent perfect.

A breath of colour,
to paint cheeks red.

A dash of moments,
to warm cold hearts.

A whiff of dreams,
link two souls a-part.

I am lost O Lord,
upon the plane of lust.
Misled by the chords,
of these melodic repast.

Ah, what can ail thee, wretched wight,
Alone and palely loitering;
The sedge is wither'd from the lake,
And no birds sing.

Ah, what can ail thee, wretched wight,
So haggard and so woe-begone?
The squirrel's granary is full,
And the harvest's done.

I see a lily on thy brow,
With anguish moist and fever dew;
And on thy cheek a fading rose
Fast withereth too.

I met a lady in the meads
Full beautiful, a faery's child;
Her hair was long, her foot was light,
And her eyes were wild.

I set her on my pacing steed,
And nothing else saw all day long;
For sideways would she lean, and sing
A faery's song.

I made a garland for her head,
And bracelets too, and fragrant zone;
She look'd at me as she did love,
And made sweet moan.

She found me roots of relish sweet,
And honey wild, and manna dew;
And sure in language strange she said,
I love thee true.

She took me to her elfin grot,
And there she gaz'd and sighed deep,
And there I shut her wild sad eyes--
So kiss'd to sleep.

And there we slumber'd on the moss,
And there I dream'd, ah woe betide,
The latest dream I ever dream'd
On the cold hill side.

***

I just thought this apt.

***

There is room for you. You are alone with your few sheaves of rice.
My boat is crowded, it is heavily laden, but how can I turn you
away? Your young body is slim and swaying; there is a twinkling
smile in the edge of your eyes, and your robe is coloured like the
rain cloud.

The travellers will land for different roads and homes. You
will sit for a while on the prow of my boat, and at the journey's
end none will keep you back.

Where do you go, and to what home, to garner your sheaves? I
will not question you, but when I fold my sails and moor my boat
I shall sit and wonder in the evening, -Where do you go, and to
what home, to garner your sheaves?


This is perhaps Tagore's lesson to educate us to the true nature of longing, of the long and difficult road which brings many hearts together but always keeps them pining. Tis' the way of the world for many, the reason why some matched-up hearts never truly meet, despite the depths by which their souls connect. One always the boatman, the other always the transient beauty.