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Poetry

	TOUFIQ UL ALAM
	PROFILE About me Friends (11) Poetry (20) Prose (10) Diary (1)

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TOUFIQ UL ALAM, 17 february 2013

When A Book Speaks its Mind

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.

number of comments: 9 | rating: 5 | detail

TOUFIQ UL ALAM, 21 february 2013

A sweet lullaby

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.

number of comments: 7 | rating: 5 | detail

TOUFIQ UL ALAM, 28 february 2012

The Guidance

I see the world,
through a colorless
glass.
The sky so blue,
and the green of
grass.

Tiny birds,
and eagles fly.
Up in the sky,
and so high.

Golden sun,
shines so bright.
Mountains boast,
proud upright.

Peaceful Ocean,
The surf less blue,
Keep me gazing,
for hours! No clue.

I see an Island,
Oh! So, green!
HE WHO creates,
can never be mean!

Artsy creation,
with heavenly touch.
We all can praise HIM,
but never so much!

HE has beauty,
which seen no eyes.
we can't even think,
in heaven what lies!

The world is a place
of a divine test.
All must take it before
the final rest.

The world we reside
is full of lust.
What we see here
must not trust.

This whole world
is a magical place.
Touch what you need
but don't embrace.

The devil's snare
it we call.
The firmer your grip is
the deeper you fall.

But not to worry
for there is light.
Must not let go
but hold 'em tight.

The books of charm
will be our guide.
To the heaven
with a heavenly ride.

Can you guess
what they are?
Quran and sunnah
all together.

That's all to say
with words so few.
Salam and may the
peace be upon you.

number of comments: 6 | rating: 7 | detail

TOUFIQ UL ALAM, 16 february 2013

Into a Phantom Past

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.

number of comments: 4 | rating: 2 | detail

TOUFIQ UL ALAM, 7 april 2013

The Four Leggeds

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.

number of comments: 3 | rating: 3 | detail

TOUFIQ UL ALAM, 8 march 2012

Love Bandit

Along comes a bandit vicious,
To rob my treasures so precious.
How she got in, damn, I don’t know,
I was alerted by the whistle blow.
Guards, sentinels started the search,
I remember, it was a midnight in March.
She seems clever and apt at looting,
But what she wants won’t be getting.
It’s not the first that I am robbed,
Now I am cautious and won’t be sobbed.
On the monitor I see her masked,
I am determined that she will be asked,
Why she comes and what she desires,
What this robbery, her, inspires?
Oh! No she’s here! But wait! No gun!
“Are you here to make some fun?”
She removes her mask and smiles at me,
“I come to take your heart”, says pretty.
I am done, again, for I fell in love,
Though I know she will fly away, my precious dove!

number of comments: 2 | rating: 6 | detail

TOUFIQ UL ALAM, 5 march 2012

Your Eyes

Shall I compare your eyes.
With the darkness of my heart?
For the pleasure of a lustful beauty,
Can only an impure heart enjoy.
What is pure, is always bright,
And bright and black can’t bed together.
Your eyes call me, as does an eye of a tornado,
That only grasps, squeezes and devours.
So, look at me one more time.
Let yourself be my siren.

number of comments: 2 | rating: 4 | detail

TOUFIQ UL ALAM, 28 february 2012

Memoirs of a dead man

There creeps the dark of night,
Ensnaring all that shine so bright.
In the grave of silence still I lay,
And think of the past-old and gray.
Things lost and mistakes made,
Come in flashes as they never fade.
I jaywalk in the alleys of mind,
To look for glory but none I find.
Loves lost have gone so far,
Leaving me alone and with a scar.
Memories from my dreary past,
Come to haunt me finding aghast.

Lone silence is now my friend,
Whom I dare to try and rend.

number of comments: 2 | rating: 4 | detail

TOUFIQ UL ALAM, 12 february 2013

A reward of Love

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.

number of comments: 2 | rating: 4 | detail

TOUFIQ UL ALAM, 9 july 2012

They've got a baby

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…

number of comments: 1 | rating: 0 | detail

10 - 30 - 100

Latest items:

Poetry

When A Book Speaks its Mind

A sweet lullaby

The Guidance

Into a Phantom Past

The Four Leggeds

Love Bandit

Your Eyes

Memoirs of a dead man

A reward of Love

They've got a baby

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