tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-71529620945412433272024-03-21T12:21:17.946-07:00wordstalkerlanguage is the man himselfJunaith Rahman | ജുനൈദ്http://www.blogger.com/profile/10003845079971525225noreply@blogger.comBlogger64125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7152962094541243327.post-78827821568163544322017-12-18T22:47:00.001-08:002017-12-18T22:47:07.745-08:00Memory Ship<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
Memories</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
As</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
Signboards</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
When</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
Walk</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
Run Roll</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
Towards</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
Nothing</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
Everything</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
And</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
You</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
Memories</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
Keeps you</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
As old</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
Newspaper</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
All irrelevant</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
Till</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
Need Them</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
To wrap</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
Something</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
We gain some</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
We lose some</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
When</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
We cross the river</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
Memories</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
Tear us</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
Fold </div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
To Make</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
A ship</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
Memory Ship</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
</div>
Junaith Rahman | ജുനൈദ്http://www.blogger.com/profile/10003845079971525225noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7152962094541243327.post-80357576201943488942017-12-18T22:42:00.000-08:002017-12-18T22:42:07.520-08:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
Night</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
Rain</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
Held its breath</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
Spread across earth</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
Hot Lusty Steamy </div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
Earth</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
Made love with </div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
Every drop</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
Till</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
The morning</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
caught fire</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
</div>
Junaith Rahman | ജുനൈദ്http://www.blogger.com/profile/10003845079971525225noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7152962094541243327.post-6327860389499216672012-12-09T20:27:00.002-08:002012-12-09T20:28:38.614-08:00butterflies' war<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="text_exposed_root text_exposed" id="id_50c5647008bc58e39176878">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="userContent">I am being chased by butterflies. The nights are infested with moths, dragonflies and beautiful butterflies. The sleep was like a finely composed photograph. I always love to take photos with some greenery in them. In this frame, there is a branch of a small tree with yellow green leaves, flowers and butterflies and I love them usually. But in here they look absolutely mean, looking straight at m</span><span class="userContent">y eyes with some sort of a judgment. What are they needed from me? The colors I took them for my poems? The fluttering movements copied or their soul I kept in that crystal pendent, when I was so little? I don’t really know and they are not explaining. They are just there - flying endlessly and aimlessly inside the walls of my sleep, from one branch to another, from one frame to another.</span></div>
<span class="userContent">
</span><br /></div>
</div>
Junaith Rahman | ജുനൈദ്http://www.blogger.com/profile/10003845079971525225noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7152962094541243327.post-57861112613095938902012-12-04T03:31:00.002-08:002012-12-04T03:32:08.863-08:00Photocopy<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Last night<br />
My son told me, I am your photocopy<br />
<br />
Stunned, it was a revelation<br />
A thought, memory<br />
<br />
Am I a copy of my father?<br />
His pains, loneliness<br />
Abstract philosophies<br />
<br />
He must be a copy too, of<br />
An ancient past<br />
A forlorn town<br />
Words of an old type writer<br />
<br />
In time<br />
I merge into him<br />
Giving<br />
My soul<br />
<br />
An old pen<br />
A Camera<br />
Some words<br />
A blood type<br />
<br />
To my son<br />
<br />
Last night<br />
My son told me, I am your photocopy</div>
Junaith Rahman | ജുനൈദ്http://www.blogger.com/profile/10003845079971525225noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7152962094541243327.post-71855250108583198942012-09-24T02:07:00.003-07:002012-09-24T02:07:18.589-07:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span class="userContent">The<br /> Night was young<br /> When I was awake...<br /> <br /> But not anymore…</span></div>
Junaith Rahman | ജുനൈദ്http://www.blogger.com/profile/10003845079971525225noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7152962094541243327.post-58919317841834555802012-09-13T04:20:00.001-07:002012-09-13T04:20:47.832-07:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
After the rain<br />
<br />
A sheep grabbed the grass<br />
from the clouds</div>
Junaith Rahman | ജുനൈദ്http://www.blogger.com/profile/10003845079971525225noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7152962094541243327.post-20023254164943066442012-09-13T04:13:00.001-07:002012-09-13T04:13:44.367-07:00Tattoo<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
My body tattooed<br />
In your eyes<br />
A shadow<br />
Beneath your breath<br />
My tongue<br />
You swallowed<br />
I slept, with your hand<br />
On my soul<br />
+<br />
I kissed you<br />
In an apartment<br />
Infested with moths<br />
My hands<br />
Found<br />
Their shape<br />
On your back<br />
I lost my way<br />
In your depth<br />
I tattooed<br />
My body<br />
In your void<br />
+<br />
My face<br />
In your retina<br />
Under my skin<br />
Your smell<br />
+<br />
A long pause<br />
+<br />
My Time<br />
Tattoo of a clock<br />
On your neck</div>
Junaith Rahman | ജുനൈദ്http://www.blogger.com/profile/10003845079971525225noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7152962094541243327.post-169235831386892222012-08-29T02:37:00.000-07:002012-08-29T02:37:09.483-07:00Shadows<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
A crow <br />
Sat<br />
On the<br />
Shadow of<br />
A branch<br />
<br />
Looked<br />
At<br />
<br />
A cow<br />
Eating<br />
Shadows of<br />
Grass<br />
<br />
Clear<br />
Images<br />
Merged<br />
<br />
Voices<br />
Became<br />
Shadows of<br />
Thunder<br />
<br />
Life<br />
Under the<br />
Shadow of<br />
A tomb<br />
<br />
Exhilarating</div>
Junaith Rahman | ജുനൈദ്http://www.blogger.com/profile/10003845079971525225noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7152962094541243327.post-55809294813450789442012-08-29T02:34:00.002-07:002012-08-29T02:34:50.726-07:00Cycle of life<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
When I walk<br />
It walks after me<br />
<br />
When<br />
I walk<br />
I walk towards it<br />
Even if<br />
It walks towards<br />
Me<br />
<br />
When we meet<br />
There ends<br />
<br />
The circle<br />
<br /></div>
Junaith Rahman | ജുനൈദ്http://www.blogger.com/profile/10003845079971525225noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7152962094541243327.post-73154081383721552492012-08-12T12:03:00.001-07:002012-08-12T12:03:16.835-07:00Metamorphosis<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span>An eye Sees nothing, stores nothing </span><span></span><br />
<span> </span><span> </span><br />
<span>Yet an eye as an eye</span><br />
<span> </span><span>Took shape of a bird</span><br />
<span> </span><span>Spread its wings</span><br />
<span> </span><span>Draped the light with darkness</span><br />
<span><span> </span></span><br />
<span> </span><span>It burned a silence</span><br />
<span> </span><span>In the heart of a God</span><br />
<span> </span><span><span> </span></span><br />
<span> </span><span>An eye as an eye</span><br />
<span> </span><span>Became a bird</span><br />
<span> </span><span>Took the sky in its eyes</span><br />
<span> </span><br />
<span><span> </span></span><br />
<span><span> </span><span>(The third edited version. Thank you Cristina, Lekh and Avy.)</span></span></div>
Junaith Rahman | ജുനൈദ്http://www.blogger.com/profile/10003845079971525225noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7152962094541243327.post-80581701719678300912012-08-12T12:01:00.001-07:002012-08-12T12:01:34.107-07:00Victoria’s Secret<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
They said it’s all a secret<br />
Revealed in pink for the crowd<br />
Nice and laced<br />
Brunettes in chocolate swimsuits<br />
Blacks wearing red two pieces<br />
Whites with practically nothing<br />
But all with wings<br />
Remains of discarded angels<br />
<br />
The lights were dim in my room<br />
Beats from a rock band<br />
The catwalk<br />
FTV was showing<br />
How the secrets are exposed<br />
Through bare sadness<br />
In victoria’s eyes<br />
<br /></div>
Junaith Rahman | ജുനൈദ്http://www.blogger.com/profile/10003845079971525225noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7152962094541243327.post-13882448944671057022012-08-06T03:19:00.001-07:002012-08-06T03:19:24.188-07:00In a Poem...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
The rain was on their roof. Early morning cool breeze slowly came through the open window, the curtains dancing with its rhythm. Her head was on his shoulder, his soft breath as a mesmerizing chant wrapped her in sadness. She was not slept that night. Still she was glad that he was sleeping, calm, and her smell wrapping him in a serine sense of belonging. The rain sounded sweet, as his love that made her life meaningful. At that moment as a line in his poem, she belonged to him, body and spirit.</div>Junaith Rahman | ജുനൈദ്http://www.blogger.com/profile/10003845079971525225noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7152962094541243327.post-27264480393855100732012-08-01T04:02:00.001-07:002012-08-01T04:02:37.714-07:00Life, a memory<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span><span>Life</span></span><br />
<span><span>A memory</span></span><br />
<span><span>Embedded</span></span><br />
<span><span>In our bone marrow</span></span><br />
<span><span>In a language</span></span><br />
<span><span>No one</span></span><br />
<span><span>Till now transcribed</span></span><br />
<span> </span><br />
<span><span>Life after life</span></span><br />
<span><span>It flares</span></span><br />
<span><span>Being a beacon</span></span><br />
<span><span>Guiding us</span></span><br />
<span><span>To a point</span></span><br />
<span><span>Not yet mapped out</span></span><br />
<span> </span><br />
<span><span>Translating </span></span><br />
<span><span>Memories may</span></span><br />
<span><span>Unveil footprints of</span></span><br />
<span><span>The moment </span></span><br />
<span><span>Where we took our time </span></span><br />
<span><span>And surrendered to birth</span></span><br />
<span> </span><br />
<span><span>There stopped the reality</span></span></div>Junaith Rahman | ജുനൈദ്http://www.blogger.com/profile/10003845079971525225noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7152962094541243327.post-64703284797303064162012-08-01T03:56:00.002-07:002012-08-01T03:56:52.172-07:00My print of body<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I touched you<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-size: 12pt;"><o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-IN" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">A shiver<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">A look<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Shadow of my
spirit<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">On your being<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Again <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Time stopped<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">For <o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">A breath to
flow<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">+<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">My print of
body<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">On your eye<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span lang="EN-IN"><o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></o:p></span><br />
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Shadows<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Writing a poem<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span lang="EN-IN"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">With </span></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Their
whispering<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<br /></div>
</div>Junaith Rahman | ജുനൈദ്http://www.blogger.com/profile/10003845079971525225noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7152962094541243327.post-46206845985533421782012-07-11T04:20:00.002-07:002012-07-11T04:20:48.308-07:00Cityscapes - 3<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Overbridge<br />
above the street<br />
a dried<br />
installation<br />
<br />
Noon<br />
silence<br />
<br />
Way side<br />
lamp posts<br />
walked<br />
towards<br />
the shadow of<br />
a water tank<br />
<br />
Trucks<br />
ran past<br />
in a row<br />
a procession<br />
of holy drinkers<br />
vomiting<br />
fumes and speed<br />
<br />
Snapshot of<br />
the street<br />
in that noon<br />
<br />
- A cemetery of<br />
small shadows</div>Junaith Rahman | ജുനൈദ്http://www.blogger.com/profile/10003845079971525225noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7152962094541243327.post-18148708344414295662011-07-27T11:06:00.000-07:002011-07-27T11:06:13.363-07:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div closure_uid_i6pnaa="77">
<span style="font-size: large;">The man is locked away in a diary</span></div>
<div closure_uid_i6pnaa="85">
<span style="font-size: large;"></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">Written by me</span><br />
<div closure_uid_i6pnaa="86">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">For this standard words</span></div>
<div closure_uid_i6pnaa="89">
<br /></div>
<div closure_uid_i6pnaa="90">
Can only be unlocked </div>
<div closure_uid_i6pnaa="91">
By your sharp looks </div>
<div closure_uid_i6pnaa="92">
Through that curls of hair</div>
<div closure_uid_i6pnaa="93">
Smelling raspberry and olive</div>
<div closure_uid_i6pnaa="94">
Scattered by a breeze </div>
<div closure_uid_i6pnaa="95">
And my breath</div>
<br />
</div>
Junaith Rahman | ജുനൈദ്http://www.blogger.com/profile/10003845079971525225noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7152962094541243327.post-50892298835832894442011-07-04T03:18:00.000-07:002011-07-04T03:18:28.424-07:00Epitaph<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">Another rain from another time<br />
<br />
There are no universes with a roof<br />
You drank from the moon I have buried<br />
For the dreams in it, poisonous<br />
You are addicted now, for<br />
You have nothing to say about me<br />
But at my expense you made lot of jocks<br />
The rain is hilarious as it pours in another time<br />
<br />
There is nothing to hide now<br />
The leaf is as green as it can ever be<br />
The forest is as dark as it can ever be<br />
But still I walk in my sleep to a poem<br />
I have never written, for<br />
You will understand them if I recite<br />
But, no, I won’t, because I can’t break<br />
My image of toughness or arrogance<br />
<br />
There, dear, is my grave. Come, read the epitaph<br />
Life is what made me and broke me<br />
Life is what given me a grave this beautiful<br />
And I am thankful to you both.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
.</div>Junaith Rahman | ജുനൈദ്http://www.blogger.com/profile/10003845079971525225noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7152962094541243327.post-6573675524779107112011-06-05T10:15:00.000-07:002011-06-05T10:15:45.111-07:00The Journey<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">Every tree is<br />
<br />
Part of a great journey<br />
As every leaf is<br />
Fraction of<br />
An infinite green<br />
<br />
Map to a great<br />
Journey<br />
The branches<br />
Mould into a<br />
Space not fixed<br />
<br />
Rain travel through<br />
Roots to leaves<br />
Whispering the<br />
Language of clouds<br />
<br />
Every leaf is there<br />
For the journey<br />
As the sun soak them<br />
In golden silence<br />
<br />
</div>Junaith Rahman | ജുനൈദ്http://www.blogger.com/profile/10003845079971525225noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7152962094541243327.post-78004329460591755512011-06-02T20:29:00.000-07:002011-06-02T20:29:45.623-07:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">Dry land to <br />
<br />
A bed of emerald<br />
-Monsoon<br />
<br />
Dry branches to<br />
A green length <br />
<br />
Yellow bird is<br />
Playing<br />
With rain drops<br />
<br />
</div>Junaith Rahman | ജുനൈദ്http://www.blogger.com/profile/10003845079971525225noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7152962094541243327.post-2165454721135080952011-05-21T10:23:00.000-07:002011-05-21T10:23:08.454-07:00News of an attempted murder<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">(You may not hear it in any news)<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">A thin string in </div><div class="MsoNormal">The neck</div><div class="MsoNormal">Gloved hands are</div><div class="MsoNormal">Dark</div><div class="MsoNormal">Bitter</div><div class="MsoNormal">Angry</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">A train broke </div><div class="MsoNormal">The silence </div><div class="MsoNormal">Opening me </div><div class="MsoNormal">To a death yet to come</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">I am happy to be here</div><div class="MsoNormal">In this eye of hurricane</div><div class="MsoNormal">Dark </div><div class="MsoNormal">Bitter </div><div class="MsoNormal">Angry</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">The string chokes </div><div class="MsoNormal">Opening me </div><div class="MsoNormal">To a dark desire</div><div class="MsoNormal">Engraved in my loneliness</div></div>Junaith Rahman | ജുനൈദ്http://www.blogger.com/profile/10003845079971525225noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7152962094541243327.post-54537477020614852782011-05-16T12:08:00.000-07:002011-05-18T10:32:54.958-07:00Remote Love<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">Night<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">I loved her<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal">Through my phone<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">We are together and apart<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal">Alone in the midst of a web<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal">Hot and cold at the same time<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal">Made love in between<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">I loved her <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal">Like a cold wind loving the<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal">Dark night<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal">Whispering to the </div><div class="MsoNormal">Split bamboos</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">The final mourn escaped <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal">From her lips <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal">Reached my ears<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal">Heart<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal">Hard on<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">It split<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal">Spilling my identity<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal">Hot, rusty<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal">My body crumpled<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal">As an antique ship </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">A scrap set to melt<o:p></o:p></div></div>Junaith Rahman | ജുനൈദ്http://www.blogger.com/profile/10003845079971525225noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7152962094541243327.post-11077533364361195102010-09-20T00:07:00.000-07:002010-09-20T00:07:08.699-07:00Traveler<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Traveler, I can not ask you, now</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">To be here with me, spend some time</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Since, I am buried under this field</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">For a thousand years.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">But I can tell you </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Through the bright flowers</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">In this field, that, how history</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Shattered this place for years</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">I can tell you through</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">This small stream, that,</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">How lush is this place</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">And even daemons loved it</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">I can tell you through</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Every rock in this place, that,</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">What a rumbler is this castle </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Telling stories all night</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">I can tell you through this</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Mountain in the east corner</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">That how a shadow move</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Like a snake is this place</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">I can tell you through the</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Chinook wind, that,</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">How mystic is here at </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Every winter and early spring</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">But traveler, now I am lost</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">And buried</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">In a quadrate of solid darkness </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">That, I can not understand you</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">From your foot steps</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">That who you really are and</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Which trails you will suffer</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">The pain in your eyes</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Where they came from</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Traveler, I can not ask you, now</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">To be here with me, spend some time</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Even if a second before</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Your toe touched my heart </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Traveler, I am buried and then lost. </div>Junaith Rahman | ജുനൈദ്http://www.blogger.com/profile/10003845079971525225noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7152962094541243327.post-85658152787493341752010-04-09T07:06:00.000-07:002010-04-09T07:06:29.179-07:00Nocturne<div class="MsoNormal">My burning stigma</div><div class="MsoNormal">Effaced by her touch</div><div class="MsoNormal">A headless horseman </div><div class="MsoNormal">On a gothic painting</div><div class="MsoNormal">Passed through</div><div class="MsoNormal">Our aroused silence</div><div class="MsoNormal">She embraced me</div><div class="MsoNormal">Escaping from the chill</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">My body taut<em><o:p></o:p></em></div><div class="MsoNormal">Fingers entwined to</div><div class="MsoNormal">A ball of fire</div><div class="MsoNormal">Ignited by her red nail polish</div><div class="MsoNormal">Breasts on my chest</div><div class="MsoNormal">Her heart </div><div class="MsoNormal">A primeval drum</div><div class="MsoNormal">Pounding with the rhythm of</div><div class="MsoNormal">Our mating dance</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">I kissed her nape</div><div class="MsoNormal">Breathe the scent</div><div class="MsoNormal">Molecules of desire</div><div class="MsoNormal">Loneliness and sweat </div><div class="MsoNormal">Eyes closed</div><div class="MsoNormal">I stood on the shadows</div><div class="MsoNormal">Hearing only</div><div class="MsoNormal">What her body told me</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"></div><div class="MsoNormal">I wanted to swim</div><div class="MsoNormal">Across her body</div><div class="MsoNormal">She understood</div><div class="MsoNormal">Her hands encircled </div><div class="MsoNormal">My neck to drop me</div><div class="MsoNormal">Into her ocean</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">We kissed</div><div class="MsoNormal">A burning tongue</div><div class="MsoNormal">Etching her shape on</div><div class="MsoNormal">My abdomen walls </div><div class="MsoNormal">I lost her there, but</div><div class="MsoNormal">I know she is waiting</div><div class="MsoNormal">A half-moon on</div><div class="MsoNormal">A pedestal of darkness</div>Junaith Rahman | ജുനൈദ്http://www.blogger.com/profile/10003845079971525225noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7152962094541243327.post-25327448688535149942010-03-20T02:25:00.000-07:002010-03-20T02:25:01.113-07:00Mumbai – 9/11The guns are awaiting <br />
An accurate moment <br />
<br />
A chillness <br />
Frozen the time<br />
To make every target still<br />
<br />
<em>Rusty road</em><br />
<em>Smoky walls</em><br />
<em>Yellow-black auto rickshaws</em><br />
<em>Red buses, metallic cars</em><br />
<em>Trucks, an ancient palette of </em><br />
<em>Red, Yellow, green, violet, blue</em><br />
<br />
<em>Motor cycles and handcarts</em><br />
<em>Stench of urine</em><br />
<em>Pan Masala and beggars</em><br />
<em>Sharp edges of</em><br />
<em>Pouting structures</em><br />
<em>Busy moving eyes, legs, hands</em><br />
<em>Flabby arses</em><br />
<em>Doves scattering like an offbeat song</em><br />
<br />
It’s time to fire <br />
<br />
Bullets penetrating through <br />
Hearts and disappearing into many dreams…Junaith Rahman | ജുനൈദ്http://www.blogger.com/profile/10003845079971525225noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7152962094541243327.post-35065414837373465552010-03-18T11:56:00.000-07:002010-03-18T11:58:25.198-07:001<br /><br />flaming stairs<br />keep climbing<br />burn alive<br />till<br />sparks shape<br />a figure of you<br /><br />2<br />Words faces<br />hands<br />steps legs lips<br /><br />smudge – weaving<br />a shroud<br />so lengthy<br /><br />3<br />A wave long dead<br />resurrected<br /><br />- where is the sea?Junaith Rahman | ജുനൈദ്http://www.blogger.com/profile/10003845079971525225noreply@blogger.com0