Love and the Crescent Moon

 

I was lying on the dewy lawn

All all alone,

Watching the blooming Moon

Swinging carelessly on the torn

Fringes of long banana leaves.

And she was yet to come

With a hidden knife

In thirst of blood to cleave

Through my soaking dreams.

 

Hours gone by

With the night crawling alone

And to feel the glimpse

Of a crescent moon

Hanging high at the edge

Of a mysterious ridge,

I unlocked my soul cage

To fly along the misty breeze...

 

And then I looked

Down the lawn

Watching my body

Lying immobile

Like a heartless pawn

Screaming

In deafening silence,

'I loved you with my

Body and soul

In this illusive world

With a feeling undrawn,

Yet undiscovered and unknown...'.

© Atique R. 

Missing My Mom

Far from Home

 

My heart aches

Like a broken Moon

Shedding tears of glow

From an arched knee

Stuck into the west horizon.

 

My soul burns

Like the melting time

In the furnace

Fueled by the flaming Sun.

Caged in the celestial hollow;

The straws of memories

Keep drowning me

In the ice blue rhymes

Of the rhythmic flow.

 

And I miss my home

My sweet little home

Hundreds of miles away

Under the same crescent Moon.

And I just wanna tell you mom

I miss you with every little steps

You walked me along

With the first kisses of the Sun. 

 

In the searing anguish

And silent scream,

With all the words

Flooding into my stream

I just wanna tell you mom

‘I love you, I miss you…

Far from my home

Like a homeless man

Sharing the helpless sighs

From my freezing apartment

With the dwindling crescent Moon.

© Atique R. 

The Forgotten Flood

 

The rivulet of blood,

Streaming down the ridge

Of my low lying heart is 

Like a pool of stagnant water

Of a long forgotten flood.

And it was melting in well together

With the fretted hopes and aches

With no warmth of love:

To vaporize,

And to pour down again

In rain with droplets of yellow

For newer dreams

To take a replenishing shower.

The Awakening Dream

 

I happen to find in a strewn mind

A piece of breathing silence

As I was eavesdropping the wind,

Whispering to a clamoring storm

To blow off my tinges of yellows

In an unbreakable alliance

In my sizzling silver soul

Caged in a translucent cell

Made of bone, blood and flesh.

 

Then I started scrolling down

The layers of silver clouds

In the multiverse

Of my self-driven dream.

And I met a lovely view

In the splashes of melting gold

During the twilight

Just before the night to unfold.

 

And it was magical enough

To ride past the lurking inner storm,

Winging on the petals of colors

With newer dreams to form. 

When Blue Turns Gray

 

In an unfamiliar town,

In a different pole

I saw her once again...

In the wake of a monsoon.

With the vapors

Of my dried out pain,

I paused for a while

And walked past her,

As I got to catch up with a rain.

 

I glided past her,

Calm and quiet

In a shuttered mind;

Feeling a shell-shocked

Pair of eyes behind.

And then she called me

To turn back to her;

Back to

The long frozen memories

In a worn-out attire…

 

I used to see her in blue

With the evening zephyr

Playing with her hair

In a magical golden hue:

Like the melting Sun

Splashing all its gold

In the western sky

In an enchanting flow.

 

She was in gray today

Putting on the same old

Mysterious beauty,

And the eyes lost

In the shades of glittering ray:

So close to me

Still far far away

Where the horizon

Keeps losing into the bay…

 

We exchanged ‘Hi’, ‘Hellos’

With the surprised looks and smiles

Which couldn’t reach out the eyes.

And then all our words dried out

In a silent hollow

With thousands of unearthed questions

To follow.

 

“Isn’t there anything left

From the days we lost together?”

She asked in a parting note.

“All the glittering stars of night

Lie deep beneath the day light.”

I replied before bidding goodbye

In a tone barely afloat

And a smile containing a hurricane

Of sighs.

© Atique R. 

Lonely Man under the Moon

 

A lonely man

On a lonely bridge

In a gray gloomy night

In the dwindling light

Saw the image of a loner,

Who has never been a moaner

As he look down far

In the ashen blue water,

While floating with a stagger.

 

And he walks on alone

Spilling droplets of blood

In the petals of his pain.

And the Moon over his head,

Instills in the drops of Moon

Through his shrinking veins.

The Valley of Death

 

The lined up shadows

Of walking dreams

Kept marching on

In the creamy spell

Of camouflaged vows.

 

Down the withering

Valley of death

They kept strolling in blinded bouts

Under a wavering cast of clouds

And the flickering

Fireflies beneath.

 

Suddenly the Moon rose high

And the dreams ceased

To fly

Into the cemetery

Of Hopes, Colors and Sighs.