by Abdullah HarisLike a constant ellipse, penetrating rays of a new beginning, a new aurora that gradually transcends from pitch black into a burnished sidereal day. How tedious it seems for some, how blistering for so many. Not so baffling to translate and discern where I place myself. I question and marvel how many can associate with the similar feeling, comparable beliefs, equivalent impression and selfsame notion. Often, it appears like an incessant struggle; a battle between the good and the evil, an unceasing conflict to perfect myself, one more step, nearer to destruction; bitter sweet end. Seems like the only thawing sweetness left, comes from the most unpredictable places; “Words”.
Such beauty in just three words, such catastrophe on the contrary. Absolute power, nevertheless; paired with undiluted nothingness or perhaps so much more. They say you always gain something when you recede on the other oddment. Try farseeing ahead, whenever fallen behind.
Whoever said that never knew farsighted people are unremarkable dreamers or perhaps some would call one an escapist. Oft I elude all that appears traumatic. But all I seem to do is willfully inject every sort of self inflicted nuisance. They tell me I am crazy. My sanity inhabits within my insanity. I cannot lie. I can not practice rarified raw applicative theories, such downheartedness. Pragmatism is not my subject. I prefer a language; “Words” again.
I am a dreamer, I aviate. I wander away. Not absent, perhaps, only distant. Bewildered in my own intellect, hopeless to live and alter self sentiments, I rest with my preoccupied cerebration; uninterrupted tenets. I wing pinnacles, touching heights, touching lives… maybe. I am a dreamer, I fly. I wander away. Not absent, perhaps, only distant.
They tell me I am crazy, when I am not. All I am this day is exactly what I had thought. I celebrate my ruins, when tsunami crusades the gates of my fragile endurance. Fall and stand. Perish and breathe, just to breathe and perish again. Cease to live, but it seems immortality becomes a curse. Pain is God; God is truth, truth is pain, Hurt is divine. Eternity comes to play from the most unpredictable places; “Words”.
Unbroken tenets, finally broken. Only mortal; even immortality.
Inverse affect, rescind regard. I assemble myself, just to see myself crumble apart, again. How… just words. Such power, such beauty in just three words, such catastrophe on the contrary. Absolute power, absolute nothingness evermore.
Creating a planetary of my own, with a cautiously yet a very yeasty embellished realness. They say it is oft a painless idea when presumptuous of here-after; even then, “death” is an easier thought. How to be up-right when down? When to speak, when there is no sound? Reasoned and justified the same way I was taken down. Words are God, Words of God, God is truth. Truth may be divine, but, truth is pain. I am only human, so genuine; only judgmental.
How virtuous it seems for some, how delusive for so many. How mendacious, how typical.
Fly… fly far away, never absent, only at distant.
Predestined to fall, fly high, sky high to a distant, where all hypotheses become unapproachable, beyond all sane reach. A deranged poet, with his lunatic words. Let ink smear and speak; all riddles of an unbalanced religion. Vulnerable when exposed, let silence condom all inarticulate virgin beliefs. Fly…fly far away, fly alone.
Only human; only selfish, perfectly narcissistic. I can not betray myself, for sincerity lies when all reality dies. Witness a vicious homicide, witness resurrection, pure and bona fide, witness deception.
Immortality comes to play…I can not lie … to you.
I can try, but, I will never die for you.
Fly … fly away, fly alone. I am a dreamer, I aviate. I wander away. Not absent, perhaps, only distant. I wing pinnacles, touching heights, touching lives… perhaps. I am a dreamer, I fly. I wander away. Not absent, perhaps, only distant. Fly … fly away, fly alone.
Beauty lies; they say colors shine in light. I see them paling, you assume I am failing. Inhumane calamity. Speak of iniquity, when you cannot see what all that you cannot explore at peaks. Imagine if pain ceases to exist. Imagine a life without a tear and heartache.
Blank, like a paper without any ink, smeared to it. No emotions that lay bare, no story tumbled to its fine thread. Abandoned, it would seem. Few minutes ago, I too found this piece vacant, lying lifeless before me. No more corpse-like, in white. So alive and breathing, it became propitious to truthful … words.
‘Immortalized’ …once again.
Immortality becomes heavenly as I pour forth all ailing desires.
Forever it has a tongue to speak, unless the reader eyes a tear to it.
Vulnerable when exposed, let silence condom all inarticulate virgin beliefs.
Let silent words conquer all vicious murder. Predestined to fall, fly high, sky high to a distant, where all hypotheses become unapproachable, beyond all sane reach. A deranged poet, with his lunatic words. Let ink smear and speak; all riddles of an unbalanced religion.
I met an adult who wept and wretched in distant agony. One who suffered from eminent anguish? What a beautiful smile, he had on his face. This was the only tragedy, perhaps.
A smile that seemed to quest for reason. Bespeaking rational answers, seeking knowledge. Some called it freedom… some fallacy; he called it “life”.
He laid his facts unclothed, naked, fully exposed and vulnerable. Hoping to be accepted. Coping with self, expecting to be understood and seen, expecting a return, a reasonable sentence to justify or perhaps … just to argue such unbearable nuisance. Frightened of rejection, dreading acceptance.
No arms had ever seemed so welcoming. Never, he seemed to have witnessed such bright light of understanding. Light … that had made him blind, he followed blindly.
“Can you hear me!?” he screamed without a sound.
I heard it.
With no other alternate left to explore, words were the only escape… the only way out. Practicing escapism was an infinite gateway to everything. Perhaps, the only thing he wished to escape was evasion from self. He rehearsed his expressions. The lies he would tell. But, sadly he couldn’t escape the mundane. Crowded in the madding crowd, he heard every tear that fell, every ripple that created and added to the sea. He heard with his ears. Sadly, he couldn’t see all that welcomed him.
No arms had ever seemed so welcoming. Never, he seemed to have witnessed such bright light of understanding. The great bright light of sympathy, apprehension and… nothingness. An endless chase to the light … that had made him blind, he followed blindly.
Words… never the truth, forever a lie.
Maybe right, maybe not. Maybe right now, maybe… forever a lie.
And he stood there in silence, watching and looking into my eyes with surprise that took him and shook his existence. Just when I thought I had caught him, he politely excused.
He said “I am nothing”.
Words… never the truth, always a lie.
Envision scarcity, where words become scarce hopelessness, flimsy muddled emotions rein the hearts of those who believe in miracles. Miracle is God, God is…human, humans are hearts of those who believe in miracles. Still, such deficient copiousness, such scarce abundance. I cannot find myself, or maybe it is them who cannot see me, or maybe they can never see me.
Images… images that aren’t that hard to perceive.
No matter where one escapes, eyes tell the story… some perceive, only few belief.
Some scarper away, some never care. Few search for one, many die unaware. Not so baffling to translate and discern where I place myself… or is it? I question, I question again. I question the marvel so as to how many can associate with the similar feeling, comparable beliefs, equivalent impression and selfsame notion. Do you?
Why compare truth with a lie, when the only lie is knowledge of truth, itself.
Its just “words”. They sing a song, you play along. Laugh and weep, die in sleep.
I question, I question again. I question the marvel.
Some scraper away, some never care. Few search for one, many die unaware.
Such absolute power, it seems, even repetition can add to the beauty. No law of diminishing return applied here. Is it? Too much is never enough. Perhaps a need, perhaps… greed.
Not so baffling to translate where you stand. Don’t point me out, when you are the one who looks different from the madding crowd. Not absent, perhaps, only distant.
Associated to the similar feeling, familiar with… nothing. Totally alienated, don’t feel humiliated knowing you were not even that important to be ever hated. You question, you question again. I question “your” marvel.
“Can you hear me!?” I screamed without a sound.
He heard a word… “Silence”.
Infinitely assumptive of all wrongs for all how I always wanted it to be. You only see what you believed in. You will only see what you belief.
Silence breaks. Secrecy is no more a forbidden secret. It never was a secret. Forever it will be, now that I know. Don’t worry; it will be taken to the grave, alone.
Grave is God, God is the truth, truth is pain and pain is divine. But it seems too early to wish to meet the Absolute. He not only hears your words, he watches in… silence. “Can you hear me!?” I screamed without a sound. I only heard the “silence”. Such absolute power. It appears, even repetition can add to the beauty. All laws of diminishing return put to practice… here. Isn’t it?
Associated to the similar feeling, familiar with… everything.
Silence breaks, eyes told the story. Most guessed, only one perceived.
Forever assumptive. Secrecy is no more a forbidden secret. It never was.
… Envision scarcity.
Pushed away, it seems. No one seems understanding enough or be understood.
Look away, he said to himself. Sadly, he couldn’t.
wrenching and twirling insane - he ran as I swirled in pain.
Dance… for they applaud to your consuming twists. The mighty wrists that grip your soul and ink your thoughts. Dance… for they applaud, they applaud endlessly to all that entertains them. Dance … for they will applaud to even your tears you shed in vain and claim their shoulders you had cried on. Law of diminishing return… or perhaps, law of the cruel cruel world.
What life, what smile.
Such a complete world, within. Such endurance to act alike.
Dance… for they applaud to your spellbound moves, devouring twists, enchanting Terpsichore.
Dance to life, dance with a smile. They applaud your misery. Laugh and claim, regret your past in vain. Look away, he said to himself. Sadly, he couldn’t.
Such fascination to such a spell binding life. All seems important, perhaps, “words” the most.
Wretch and twirl insane ran and swirl in pain, to words alone, with words alone.
Vulnerable when exposed, let silence condom all inarticulate virgin beliefs.
Let silent words conquer all vicious murder. Predestined to fall, fly high, sky high to a distant, where all hypotheses become unapproachable, beyond all sane reach. A deranged poet, with his lunatic words. Let ink smear and speak; all riddles of an unbalanced religion.