TOUFIQ UL ALAM, 5 lipca 2014
Assortment of colors,
Yellow outshining all.
Faces- old and young,
Ladies and Gentlemen.
Perhaps a ball is at hand?
Magnificent Wavy frills waist-down,
Shades of yellow playing hide and seek,
An ornamented gown,
Beautifying a charming Dame,
A Yellow peacock opens its tail!
Arms in lock,
Those fickle two eyes,
Searches where their loyalty lies,
Anxious to charm,
Or to be charmed?
Betrayed Attention,
In the stagnant air,
Of this ecstatic ball room.
Yellow intentions,
Gasping breath and already charmed.
Monsieur James Tissot,
Did you draw Madame Bovary?
TOUFIQ UL ALAM, 27 września 2013
Rift...adrift..grows,
For, so many broken vows.
A day...gloomy and grey,
Although, a Sun, bright and gay.
All bored, and busy...
All alone...within a family.
Millions surround,
Yet, my loneliness I flaunt.
Waking...working...sleeping,
Waking...working..sleeping,
..........................................
Waking...working...sleeping,
And a disillusionment,
And a death bed.
TOUFIQ UL ALAM, 7 kwietnia 2013
Oh! You All humans!!!
God gave you two legs,
When have you started walking on all fours?
Have you no shame?
In the guise of so called freedom,
Have you lost all your restraints?
Shame on you!!!
Four leggeds devours, sleeps,
and go about reproducing without conscience.
What have you done with yourselves?
At the peak of your Glorious Civilization,
What makes you crawl on four,
Buck naked under the Sun of GOD?
Why be the beast of prey,
That can but only kill others for food?
You became deadly serpent,
That can do no good; neither to itself nor others,
But kills anyway, why?
Why do you like being,
Bulls or Cows- Sleep, Work, eat,
And Don't even recognize,
Your birth parents or Children of your own,
While you indulge in carnal desires ?
What makes you any different than them?
Why do you claim to be the torch bearers,
Of the Civilized minds,
When you fail to civilize yourselves?
Humanity is at stakes,
And you are yet to lit the light,
Stand on The Two Legs that God gave you,
But Claim to be Humans anyway.
Shame on you, Shame on me,
Shame on Everyone who has lost the light,
That shows the path to salvation.
TOUFIQ UL ALAM, 21 lutego 2013
Sleep...sleep my spanish love,
Sleep...with your eyes closed,
But keep the door to your heart open,
Who knows..I may come and knock.
Tuck yourself in the bed,
Pull the blanket till your head.
Turn- to the right,
And -off the light.
Close your eyes,
Till sunrise.
Then wait for me,
With a glee,
To come and play,
And beside, to lay.
To comb your hair,
With great care,
To kiss the cheek,
And nape of neck,
To hold you tight,
With love and might,
To not let go, I do promises,
Till in the 'West' the sun rises.
Feel it, my Love!
Feel with care,
To forget me, don't you dare.
Sleep ....sleep my spanish Dove,
For, to you I have vowed my love.
TOUFIQ UL ALAM, 17 lutego 2013
It has been hours, days or, weeks, Perhaps?
Since my Last page has been turned,
Felt the last touch of Love,
Tender.
I remember those intense moments,
When we were together.
Heavy breaths; foaming sobs;
Or, happy laughters.
It has been months....or, years, perhaps?
Since you looked back,
held me with you hands,
Kissed me.
Silly Me! I am a book lying,
Like many others,
I have been read.
I tend to forget,
That I have nothing new to offer.
My stories, or, poems,
Are matters of the past now.
They don't excite you anymore.
So, it has been years, or, decade, perhaps?
Since, you came,
And dusted me.
Worms are eating me alive,
yet, It has been generations... I presume?
Since you have come,
To salvage me last,
From my utter despiration.
Silly Me! I tend to forget,
I have nothing new to offer.
So, It has been a century, or, two, perhaps?
Since, a lover came,
To read me anew.
TOUFIQ UL ALAM, 16 lutego 2013
Sitting solitary,
On my old and wooden rocking chair,
I peek through the window,
To my long lost,
Phantom past.
Flashbacks waft in,
With the gentle Southerlies,
To repaint the whitewashed canvas,
Of my age old memory.
Is that infancy?
Perhaps of boyhood?
Nothing seems clear.
Just a feeling of a tender touch,
a sense of harbor,
warms my heart.
I sit on my age old wooden rocking chair,
Peeking through the window,
Into the placid blue sky.
I see moulds of my memory,
in the white soft clouds.
Did I tell you? It was the beginning of summer!
The northwester comes and goes,
And draws the images of my by gone days,
With the brush of gusty wind.
Was the storm real?
Or, was it my peaceful mind,
Throwing a sudden frightful tantrum?
I can hardly fathom.
My turbulent present,
Mocks me,
As I reminisce,
Through my misty past,
To find a tint of gold,
As a clue to a blessed future.
Sitting solitary,
On my old and wooden rocking chair,
I peek through the window,
To my long lost,
Phantom past.
TOUFIQ UL ALAM, 12 lutego 2013
There is a barbed wire growing,
From within my veins.
Its arrowheads grow and come out,
Puncturing the veins.
Like a grape vine,
This barbed wire climbs upwards,
Towards the end of each vein,
And outward tearing through my skin.
It binds me from within....
My heart, entangled in this hideous wire,
Beats in agony. Every time it beats,
It hurts like the labor pain.
I want to screem,
But my tongue doesn't move...
Only a groan,
Like that of a slaughtered animal,
Comes out...
Every time I think of you,
My eyes are at peace.
My heart is fliled with heavenly pleasure,
But it falls victim of its own self gratification,
And beats uncontrollably like a body in ecstasy.
And brings down hell from within.
I want to scream............................,
But.................................................,
Only an unworldly groan comes out.
Baby! Yet...I love you so very much.
TOUFIQ UL ALAM, 12 lutego 2013
You said,''stop.''
And Silence came between us,
Like The Horsemen of the apocalypse,
The harbinger of the judgment day.
You said, ''stop.''
And silence came between us,
Like the scythe of the Grim reaper,
To take my Precious away.
You said, ''stop.''
And silence came between us,
Like The Mighty Excalibur,
As if to pass the rightful judgement.
You said, ''stop.''
And silence.....................
As if Medusa's curse turned me to,
A lifeless stone.
You said, ''stop.''
And silence.....................
It is like the Hammer of Thor,
That pounded my heart,
With frightful force.
You said, ''stop.''
And silence.....................
It is like The Susano,
that tormented my peaceful heart.
You said, ''stop.''
And silence.....................
It is like the deepest ravine,
That stands between You and I.
You said, ''stop.''
And silence.....................
It is like a thousand needles,
That puncture my heart,
with needless ferocity.
You said, ''stop.''
And silence.....................
It is like the endless absence,
Of your enchanting voice.
Silence................................,
It is a wooden box and Me,
Six feet under, in my very own grave.
TOUFIQ UL ALAM, 9 lipca 2012
She’s got a baby!
A toothless,
Eighteen inches,
Nine pounds,
Pain in the ass!!
He’s got a baby!
It flips and flaps,
And twists and turns.
They’ve got a baby!
It wakes when,
The whole world sleeps.
It screams,
And bangs on your sweet dreams.
But the labored mother,
Nor the fatigued father,
Ever complains.
They are the Parents for you…
TOUFIQ UL ALAM, 9 lipca 2012
Oh lovely maiden!
My faraway, mystery land!
I've sailed the seven seas,
Fought vicious pirates,
Outran the roaring forties,
Calmed the mutiny and the sailor-men.
Survived the sunken ship,
Swum many a miles,
On to the shore and closer to you.
I then walked the sandy dunes,
Hungry and without water.
Sipped the dewdrops, and eaten,
Unknown fruits; coughed poisoned blood,
With blistered feet on rocky land,
I walked, ran and hid, from the mountain lion,
And walked again,
It was then, I saw you,
Like the fresh morning sun,
Bright but soft on my eyes,
Like the rain drops on the parched Sahara,
Or, like the sweet, cold water to a thirsty traveler.
You are my heaven on earth, my sweet home.
Come my darling dove, come,
Embrace me, kiss me,
Make me forget the pains I took,
Only to see you again.
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