RHYTHMS OF THE SOUL - By Muhammad Naveed Ahmed (Emmenay) (finding audrey txt) 📗
Book online «RHYTHMS OF THE SOUL - By Muhammad Naveed Ahmed (Emmenay) (finding audrey txt) 📗». Author By Muhammad Naveed Ahmed (Emmenay)
wrath of God descend,
On this Jekyll-like hidden beast,
Let us all rejoice, not mourn,
When Hell and this sinner meet.
This poem is inspired by the tragic and horrifying life story of the brave Irish girl Sorchna McKenna, who was raped and molested by her own father from childhood to teenage.
(78) LET ME BE ME
How I want to quit this boring task,
About which I cannot fully talk,
How I want to weep and cry,
Till my soul is totally dry.
How I want to laugh at all,
That seems to have been made for all,
How I want to sit, sigh and sing,
Ranting about nothing and everything.
In childhood my days were spent,
Worrying a lot about my parents.
Why there was no joy at home,
Why we were all feeling alone
At school I had Daphne and Josh,
And time for a while faced a loss,
The school time and the lunch break,
Under the great tree and forget ache.
Often I gave Daphne a flower,
And Josh my friend was her brother,
Who used to smile, clap and laugh,
Play and dance in the grassy splash.
Evenings were sometimes quite tough,
As a ship struggling in seas too rough.
Let me stop this episode now,
Ere the grief inside me does overflow.
Let me while the minutes of another night,
With cigarettes, pipes, some moments light.
Let me sit under the moonless sky,
And watch the stars roam more high.
Let me hear a friend talk of love,
Or hear a bird cackle from a branch above.
Let me be, please let me be….
For sometime at least….let me be me.
Let me be myself and search,
The one whose love I miss so much!
(79) FLASHBACK
Let me listen to the songs of yore,
Let me read the poetry of bygone times,
Let me look around inside that old bookstore,
Where I spent my years two score and more.
Let my imagination recall my beloved,
The woman who only wanted to be loved;
Let me ponder on why she left me,
Was I too young and she bold for me?
Let me relive that grand afternoon,
When her loving smile sent me in a swoon,
Let me not forget the day when she said,
Let what should not be said remain unsaid.
Let me believe that she is still mine,
Like the old books and songs of my time,
Let me go back to the years of my youth,
Let me make a call from that telephone booth.
(80) LET ME UNWIND
No day dawns but to increase my sadness,
I am drawing near to the edge of nothingness;
No sun sets without leaving me lonely,
Even though there are many around; many.
Fluttering the birds fly back to their nests,
The insects crawl on the flap of old texts,
The clamour and rush on the streets of the city,
Reminds me that I too am needy.
I am in need of complete peace of mind,
Let me, my beloved, in your arms, unwind.
(81) LET’S GO O MY HEART, ERE IT’S TOO LATE
In this age of debauchery and lies,
Will true love thrive?
In this land of gun-toting goons,
Can peace survive?
Bearded and half-learned clerics,
Are defaming Islam,
Brainwashing the unitiated,
And destroying calm.
How can I think of living on here,
In this mischief and mayhem?
How can my loved ones be without fear,
In this terror dungeon?
My motherland is being raped,
By militants from abroad,
The land of the pure* is being ruined,
By descendants of Gog*.
Hope in my heart is a withering flower,
Because I have found,
How the Quaid* and his sister did suffer,
At the hands of bloodhounds*.
Sincerity and truth have no value here,
Nor can honesty live,
Dishonesty is now the official code,
Just "grab" and "don't give".
Corruption is rampant all around me,
All conscience has died,
From the top to the bottom there's just greed,
And no end to "need".
Poor children I see toiling for food,
On the roads and the streets,
While the rulers and the rich are enjoying,
Comforts through deceit.
Let us go O my heart, ere it's late,
To a much much better place,
Where life is still sacred, where people matter,
And where God showers His Grace.
*Gog: Mischief makers described in the Holy Bible and the Holy Quran. *Quaid: Meaning leader and is used as a title for Muhammad Ali Jinnah, the founder of Pakistan. Fatima Jinnah was his sister.
(82) LINES WRITTEN ON THE LAST EVENING OF 2008
And it is dawn again,
Of the last day of an year,
That will be wrapped up,
In the scrolls of eternity.
So much has happened,
To rewrite history,
As wails of innocents,
Rent apart Gaza city.
Violence and mayhem,
Chaos, insurgency,
Have mocked the harbingers,
Of peace and amity.
Killing the blameless,
Has become a hobby,
And sanctity of life,
Has become meaningless.
Some of us reached out,
And searched the stars,
To find some clue,
On and beyond Mars.
Some played in China,
Vying for glory,
In games, while others,
Revelled in anarchy.
I and my loved ones,
Cannot breathe in peace,
So I too must look out,
For better galaxies.
In the east the sun shines,
But how can I rejoice,
To welcome the new year,
What have I got, save a tear?
It's all I can offer,
To those who are striving,
Like me, for preserving,
Our children's laughter.
(83) LOSING MYSELF
Let me lose myself Naveed,
As I do most nights,
Let me smoke, drink and sing,
Once more till I am no more.
(84) OF MEN, AN OWL AND WISDOM
Even among a crowd a man is all alone:
A child fell into a manhole,
While lost in the world above,
His entire self absorbed in a kite...
His brother cried for help,
Implored one and all with all his might,
To rescue his sibling,
Nothing worked...
Rescuers came,
With ladders and equipment,
For 13 long hours they stunned,
Those gathered around,
Near the deadly pavement...
But the fallen little one,
Could not be found,
They tried their best - they said,
But he was feared dead...
And on the other road I was told,
Somebody whisked a baby girl away,
After hitting and killing the mother,
While driving recklessly;
The lawmen said they were doing all they could,
To trace the culprit, the newsman told...
I heard the owl flap its doleful wings,
Perched on a high branch above,
As if mocking us with its wisdom -
Even among his own...a man is all alone.
(85) OF YEARS AGO
I cannot forget the flower,
I gave Daphne* years ago,
I cannot forget her smiles,
That beamed on her years ago.
I cannot forget father's calls,
At the dinner table, years ago,
Asking me to join him there,
For supper many years ago.
I cannot forget ma's lullaby,
Sung to me when I was a child,
Sweeter than Lata's* it was,
At that time many years ago.
I can't forget the train journey,
With my pa several years ago,
From Madras to Tiruchirapalli,
Slow and steady, several years ago.
I cannot forget Joshua John*,
And the times we shared years ago,
With him, Daphne and Ramola*,
During Xmas several years ago.
I cannot forget Tiger* and Nick*,
Nor Malir* of several years ago,
How pa and ma suffered for us,
Me and my siblings several years ago.
I cannot forget Commissioner Sa'ab*,
And his sweetness and kindness,
Nor can I his Cadbury bars,
Or ice cream flasks many years ago.
I cannot forget that bicycle rides,
With my pa singing all along,
Raj Kapoor's* famous film songs,
Or Do-Re-Me*... several years ago.
I cannot forget Children's English School*,
Or the rain-soaked walks with friends,
Trudging on to school or back home,
So many times several years ago.
I cannot forget the kites we flew,
On the clean and sandy shores,
Of cities in the East and West,
Or in the parks many years ago.
I cannot forget the comics I read,
And all the books I had with me,
Tarzan, Phantom, Gold Key, Archie,
Blyton, Doyle, Hugo and Christie.
I cannot forget my childhood friends,
And I cannot forget my special ones,
Daphne and father head the list,
Of those I miss since years ago.
I miss Rita-Yank* of Ohio,
I miss Becky* of the '70s,
And I miss dignified Iona*,
My English teacher of years ago.
I miss every moment of my past,
Be it joyful or full of pain,
And all those "times of torture"*,
Afflicting me several years ago.
And I won't talk of those times,
When love meant everything to me,
When days and nights were paradise,
Forever they 'll be a mystery.
Today I was alone at dawn,
Though God is there with me always,
But tears like blood-drops in the heart,
Hide aches which the world won't know.
This very day last December,
My loving pa left me with Saigal*,
And with all the memories,
Of him and the rest...of years ago.
I know not what to say to whom,
I know with whom to share my time,
Shehzad* and Adnan* are also far,
With whom to talk of all those years ago!
DAPHNE*: My schoolmate and the one girl I cannot forget...ever. 2) LATA*: Lata Mangeshkar, famous Indian playback singer. 3)JOSHUA JOHN*: Daphne's elder brother and my classfellow...at school. 4) RAMOLA*: A neighbour and a friend. 5) TIGER AND NICK*: Pet dogs we had in our childhood days. 6) COMMISSIONER SA'AB*: A family friend named Ghulam Mohammad Badshah and a very kind and generous person... 7) RAJ KAPOOR*: A famous Hindi film actor of India whose songs sung for him by Mukesh were a favourite with me and father... 8) DO-RE-ME*: Famous song from the movie THE SOUND OF MUSIC. 9) CHILDREN'S ENGLISH SCHOOL*: One of my first schools abroad where I learnt much...and where I made friends DAPHNE AND JOSHUA JOHN. 10) RITA-YANK*: My friend and admirer of my poetry and short stories who lived in Ohio, USA, and who like Daphne, is no more in this world. 11) BECKY*: School-friend and one year my senior. 12) IONA*: My first and favourite English teacher...unforgettable! 13) "TIMES OF TORTURE"*:1986-2002...which I cannot discuss with everybody. 14) SAIGAL*: Kundan Lal Saigal...India's most-famous singer who is still my favourite among those in the South Asian region. 15) SHEHZAD*: Shehzad Latif or SHAZI...my best friend so far among all those blessed on me by God Almighty. 16) ADNAN*: Adnan Jaffar, a friend since 2007...and a friend indeed...without doubt. 17) Other names are of cities like Madras and Tiruchirapalli (India) and the names mentioned with comics and books are of well known comic heroes and authors of famous books...some of my favourite ones.
(86) ON MOVIES
Barefoot in the Park*; Dancer in the dark;
What all strange titles the movie men offer!
How can we be amused when agony's around us,
How can we ignore the suffering that surrounds us.
How can I be in a mood to sit, relax, enjoy,
Mel Gibson's Braveheart* and Rob Roy*.
How can we while our time with problems abounding,
With Zorro* and the Dancer fencing and prancing.
It is true we too need rest but are movies the answer?
Tell me my dearest, before tuning to Godfather*.
Marilyn and Lamarr, Brook Shields and Lopez*,
They surely look ravishing, but then, I must confess.
This world is afflicted with pain and misery,
It's not a fairyland as described by Disney*.
Names of some famous movies, famous
On this Jekyll-like hidden beast,
Let us all rejoice, not mourn,
When Hell and this sinner meet.
This poem is inspired by the tragic and horrifying life story of the brave Irish girl Sorchna McKenna, who was raped and molested by her own father from childhood to teenage.
(78) LET ME BE ME
How I want to quit this boring task,
About which I cannot fully talk,
How I want to weep and cry,
Till my soul is totally dry.
How I want to laugh at all,
That seems to have been made for all,
How I want to sit, sigh and sing,
Ranting about nothing and everything.
In childhood my days were spent,
Worrying a lot about my parents.
Why there was no joy at home,
Why we were all feeling alone
At school I had Daphne and Josh,
And time for a while faced a loss,
The school time and the lunch break,
Under the great tree and forget ache.
Often I gave Daphne a flower,
And Josh my friend was her brother,
Who used to smile, clap and laugh,
Play and dance in the grassy splash.
Evenings were sometimes quite tough,
As a ship struggling in seas too rough.
Let me stop this episode now,
Ere the grief inside me does overflow.
Let me while the minutes of another night,
With cigarettes, pipes, some moments light.
Let me sit under the moonless sky,
And watch the stars roam more high.
Let me hear a friend talk of love,
Or hear a bird cackle from a branch above.
Let me be, please let me be….
For sometime at least….let me be me.
Let me be myself and search,
The one whose love I miss so much!
(79) FLASHBACK
Let me listen to the songs of yore,
Let me read the poetry of bygone times,
Let me look around inside that old bookstore,
Where I spent my years two score and more.
Let my imagination recall my beloved,
The woman who only wanted to be loved;
Let me ponder on why she left me,
Was I too young and she bold for me?
Let me relive that grand afternoon,
When her loving smile sent me in a swoon,
Let me not forget the day when she said,
Let what should not be said remain unsaid.
Let me believe that she is still mine,
Like the old books and songs of my time,
Let me go back to the years of my youth,
Let me make a call from that telephone booth.
(80) LET ME UNWIND
No day dawns but to increase my sadness,
I am drawing near to the edge of nothingness;
No sun sets without leaving me lonely,
Even though there are many around; many.
Fluttering the birds fly back to their nests,
The insects crawl on the flap of old texts,
The clamour and rush on the streets of the city,
Reminds me that I too am needy.
I am in need of complete peace of mind,
Let me, my beloved, in your arms, unwind.
(81) LET’S GO O MY HEART, ERE IT’S TOO LATE
In this age of debauchery and lies,
Will true love thrive?
In this land of gun-toting goons,
Can peace survive?
Bearded and half-learned clerics,
Are defaming Islam,
Brainwashing the unitiated,
And destroying calm.
How can I think of living on here,
In this mischief and mayhem?
How can my loved ones be without fear,
In this terror dungeon?
My motherland is being raped,
By militants from abroad,
The land of the pure* is being ruined,
By descendants of Gog*.
Hope in my heart is a withering flower,
Because I have found,
How the Quaid* and his sister did suffer,
At the hands of bloodhounds*.
Sincerity and truth have no value here,
Nor can honesty live,
Dishonesty is now the official code,
Just "grab" and "don't give".
Corruption is rampant all around me,
All conscience has died,
From the top to the bottom there's just greed,
And no end to "need".
Poor children I see toiling for food,
On the roads and the streets,
While the rulers and the rich are enjoying,
Comforts through deceit.
Let us go O my heart, ere it's late,
To a much much better place,
Where life is still sacred, where people matter,
And where God showers His Grace.
*Gog: Mischief makers described in the Holy Bible and the Holy Quran. *Quaid: Meaning leader and is used as a title for Muhammad Ali Jinnah, the founder of Pakistan. Fatima Jinnah was his sister.
(82) LINES WRITTEN ON THE LAST EVENING OF 2008
And it is dawn again,
Of the last day of an year,
That will be wrapped up,
In the scrolls of eternity.
So much has happened,
To rewrite history,
As wails of innocents,
Rent apart Gaza city.
Violence and mayhem,
Chaos, insurgency,
Have mocked the harbingers,
Of peace and amity.
Killing the blameless,
Has become a hobby,
And sanctity of life,
Has become meaningless.
Some of us reached out,
And searched the stars,
To find some clue,
On and beyond Mars.
Some played in China,
Vying for glory,
In games, while others,
Revelled in anarchy.
I and my loved ones,
Cannot breathe in peace,
So I too must look out,
For better galaxies.
In the east the sun shines,
But how can I rejoice,
To welcome the new year,
What have I got, save a tear?
It's all I can offer,
To those who are striving,
Like me, for preserving,
Our children's laughter.
(83) LOSING MYSELF
Let me lose myself Naveed,
As I do most nights,
Let me smoke, drink and sing,
Once more till I am no more.
(84) OF MEN, AN OWL AND WISDOM
Even among a crowd a man is all alone:
A child fell into a manhole,
While lost in the world above,
His entire self absorbed in a kite...
His brother cried for help,
Implored one and all with all his might,
To rescue his sibling,
Nothing worked...
Rescuers came,
With ladders and equipment,
For 13 long hours they stunned,
Those gathered around,
Near the deadly pavement...
But the fallen little one,
Could not be found,
They tried their best - they said,
But he was feared dead...
And on the other road I was told,
Somebody whisked a baby girl away,
After hitting and killing the mother,
While driving recklessly;
The lawmen said they were doing all they could,
To trace the culprit, the newsman told...
I heard the owl flap its doleful wings,
Perched on a high branch above,
As if mocking us with its wisdom -
Even among his own...a man is all alone.
(85) OF YEARS AGO
I cannot forget the flower,
I gave Daphne* years ago,
I cannot forget her smiles,
That beamed on her years ago.
I cannot forget father's calls,
At the dinner table, years ago,
Asking me to join him there,
For supper many years ago.
I cannot forget ma's lullaby,
Sung to me when I was a child,
Sweeter than Lata's* it was,
At that time many years ago.
I can't forget the train journey,
With my pa several years ago,
From Madras to Tiruchirapalli,
Slow and steady, several years ago.
I cannot forget Joshua John*,
And the times we shared years ago,
With him, Daphne and Ramola*,
During Xmas several years ago.
I cannot forget Tiger* and Nick*,
Nor Malir* of several years ago,
How pa and ma suffered for us,
Me and my siblings several years ago.
I cannot forget Commissioner Sa'ab*,
And his sweetness and kindness,
Nor can I his Cadbury bars,
Or ice cream flasks many years ago.
I cannot forget that bicycle rides,
With my pa singing all along,
Raj Kapoor's* famous film songs,
Or Do-Re-Me*... several years ago.
I cannot forget Children's English School*,
Or the rain-soaked walks with friends,
Trudging on to school or back home,
So many times several years ago.
I cannot forget the kites we flew,
On the clean and sandy shores,
Of cities in the East and West,
Or in the parks many years ago.
I cannot forget the comics I read,
And all the books I had with me,
Tarzan, Phantom, Gold Key, Archie,
Blyton, Doyle, Hugo and Christie.
I cannot forget my childhood friends,
And I cannot forget my special ones,
Daphne and father head the list,
Of those I miss since years ago.
I miss Rita-Yank* of Ohio,
I miss Becky* of the '70s,
And I miss dignified Iona*,
My English teacher of years ago.
I miss every moment of my past,
Be it joyful or full of pain,
And all those "times of torture"*,
Afflicting me several years ago.
And I won't talk of those times,
When love meant everything to me,
When days and nights were paradise,
Forever they 'll be a mystery.
Today I was alone at dawn,
Though God is there with me always,
But tears like blood-drops in the heart,
Hide aches which the world won't know.
This very day last December,
My loving pa left me with Saigal*,
And with all the memories,
Of him and the rest...of years ago.
I know not what to say to whom,
I know with whom to share my time,
Shehzad* and Adnan* are also far,
With whom to talk of all those years ago!
DAPHNE*: My schoolmate and the one girl I cannot forget...ever. 2) LATA*: Lata Mangeshkar, famous Indian playback singer. 3)JOSHUA JOHN*: Daphne's elder brother and my classfellow...at school. 4) RAMOLA*: A neighbour and a friend. 5) TIGER AND NICK*: Pet dogs we had in our childhood days. 6) COMMISSIONER SA'AB*: A family friend named Ghulam Mohammad Badshah and a very kind and generous person... 7) RAJ KAPOOR*: A famous Hindi film actor of India whose songs sung for him by Mukesh were a favourite with me and father... 8) DO-RE-ME*: Famous song from the movie THE SOUND OF MUSIC. 9) CHILDREN'S ENGLISH SCHOOL*: One of my first schools abroad where I learnt much...and where I made friends DAPHNE AND JOSHUA JOHN. 10) RITA-YANK*: My friend and admirer of my poetry and short stories who lived in Ohio, USA, and who like Daphne, is no more in this world. 11) BECKY*: School-friend and one year my senior. 12) IONA*: My first and favourite English teacher...unforgettable! 13) "TIMES OF TORTURE"*:1986-2002...which I cannot discuss with everybody. 14) SAIGAL*: Kundan Lal Saigal...India's most-famous singer who is still my favourite among those in the South Asian region. 15) SHEHZAD*: Shehzad Latif or SHAZI...my best friend so far among all those blessed on me by God Almighty. 16) ADNAN*: Adnan Jaffar, a friend since 2007...and a friend indeed...without doubt. 17) Other names are of cities like Madras and Tiruchirapalli (India) and the names mentioned with comics and books are of well known comic heroes and authors of famous books...some of my favourite ones.
(86) ON MOVIES
Barefoot in the Park*; Dancer in the dark;
What all strange titles the movie men offer!
How can we be amused when agony's around us,
How can we ignore the suffering that surrounds us.
How can I be in a mood to sit, relax, enjoy,
Mel Gibson's Braveheart* and Rob Roy*.
How can we while our time with problems abounding,
With Zorro* and the Dancer fencing and prancing.
It is true we too need rest but are movies the answer?
Tell me my dearest, before tuning to Godfather*.
Marilyn and Lamarr, Brook Shields and Lopez*,
They surely look ravishing, but then, I must confess.
This world is afflicted with pain and misery,
It's not a fairyland as described by Disney*.
Names of some famous movies, famous
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