Poems written by Saqib Hussain (U.K)

                                                               

                                        Conscience

Let me tell you about a man

Who would do anything to silence

that guide from within

That guide we call conscience which chastises us

Every time we commit a sin

He surrounded himself with distractions

Even travelled to distant lands

To silence his conscience he used every weapon

And implemented every plan

He shot poisonous arrows at his conscience

With audacity’s arrogant bow

Because he sinned whilst knowing

His Creator knows

All his senses were strictly employed

As agents of committing sin

Just more tools to help him silence

That reprimanding voice from within

However the most potent of weapons he used

Was simply that he repeated sins again

And again

And again

With all these weapons he struck his conscience

And in reality his true spirit, with blow after blow

And did anything he could

To stop those self-reforming surges of guilt flow

After such prolonged attack against his conscience

He became careless towards what he said,

thought or did

Finally turning deaf, dumb and blind,

From the world and himself this major loss he hid

Now his life is worse than death

And after death he will fare even worse

For he treated his conscience as an enemy

An attitude totally perverse

Have not this attitude

And be not like this man

Use your conscience as a guide, repulse evil

And do as much good as you can

And remember:

If you feel bad when you do,

say or think something wrong

You still have much good in you which you may not

fully comprehend

So don’t treat your conscience as your worst enemy

When in reality it is one of your best friends

                                                  Desire’s chains

How long will I make myself suffer

Writhing in self-inflicted pain

Trapped in a state of agitation

Tied tightly in desires chains

I call myself reasonable

A well informed, straightforward man

So why do I chain myself in this state

When the keys are, and always have been,

In my hands

I beseech my Maker to save me

Without making any effort myself

Surely this attitude is fatal

Does anything come without work?

Does surrounding yourself with disease

 lead to health?

Too much time is already wasted

Let’s take the keys, unlock these chains and fly

Because we value freedom over imprisonment

And prefer to smile in peace

Rather than make our conscience, and spirit, cry.

                                            If I hate what should love

If I hate what I should love

And love what I should hate

Then, please tell me, what will be my fate?

Except that I will completely fail life’s test

And have no peace, no tranquility, no mind at rest

If I continually do little right and much wrong

Being very weak and only minutely strong

I will fall neither to fully beast nor equal to a true man

Lying to myself I cannot reform when I know I can

It’s like taking two steps forward and three steps back

Then wondering what it is I lack

That keeps me from reaching my goal

When I have sullied my conscience

 and chained my soul

It’s like diving into the depths of sea

Then complaining about not reaching

 the mountain top

Or starting to climb and then stop

Unwilling to strive and fight

Then moaning about not reaching any great heights

If I face away from good

And towards evil I turn

It’s like putting my whole self in fire

Then complaining when I burn

If I hate what I should love

And love what I should hate

Then I know what will be my fate:

Failing life’s test

Body and soul a mess

No peace, no tranquility,

And eternal unrest.

                                                     A rose

I sometimes sit hunched over

Arms wrapped around me

As if trying to protect myself from further hurt

And starving for love

I have been hurt a lot by people

Or is it just that I have let them hurt me?

As I lean forward on my toes, heels lift off the ground

As if in nervous expectation of further hurt

When did I become so insular?

I long to walk along an open green field

Or even a hot desert

But what use would the openness of a field,

A desert, be if I stay hiding in my cocoon

And cruelly clip my own wings

Whenever they peep out

The other day I saw a woman walking home

I think she had just finished work

She hurried with a look of semi-satisfaction

As if she had found her place in the world

But was scared of the fragility of her situation

Maybe that’s why she averted her eyes

When a stranger saw her

And crept further into her invisible

Yet oh so visible shell

And maybe she’s scared too,

That I might somehow break this shell

Just by noticing it

Shells are fragile things

She’ll probably jump if the man there

Hands her that leaflet, as I do

When they invade my overly private space

I now stretch my arms above me and look up

In my bedroom the light is on,

And having just washed my face

I see rainbows of colors on my eyelashes

I will call them rainbows of hope

I’ll try and be more open from tomorrow

Raise my chin up a few degrees

And maybe, just maybe, I will find my place

 in the world

And smile a fuller, more genuine smile

And open up gently

Like a rose, kissed, by the morning

                                          Let me write and recite

Why so much desire

Why so much thirst

This feeling that if I don’t write and recite I will burst

Like there is a sea of words in me waiting to overflow

And when this sea runs out there will be

 a thousand more

So let me write and recite

Drop by drop

And enjoy every moment

Until I stop

And when I stop it should not be up to me

But the permission of the Creator

 who created you and me,

Land and sea,

And earth and sky,

And all above and in between

Knower of all things apparent and all things unseen....

Let me write and recite.

                                                   Self-distraction

Distractions are so many

And when they seem to decrease

We constantly search for more

As if trying to shut out

That persistent guiding voice

Sounding from our truest core

And to describe this further

Please think of the following

Useful metaphor:

The sound of raindrops on your window –

The brief, intermittent, short pauses between them

Are the brief pauses of thought you sometimes have

Of your deepening loss and struggling way

Before you so quickly flood your mind

 with other thoughts

And keep busy with other, less important

(What is more important than saving the soul?)

Thoughts and actions

Constant self-distraction

Is constant self-delusion

And constant self-harm.

                                   Give up hatred

A message comes from our forefathers

Carried by the wind

Whispered by the trees:

“We practised hatred

Caused enmity and division between races

And now listen to our pleas:

Give up hatred

It will eat away at your heart

Until it bleeds

And leave you in perpetual night

Where there is no relief from pain, regret

And no refreshing breeze.”

                               Friends?

Like a snake loaded with venom

He strikes others hoping they die

Die inside from sins they have done

Left with nothing and no-one

And those he strikes with poisonous words,

poisonous ideas

Are those who trust him, call him friend

and hold him dear

So why does he strike them?

The reason is fear

Fear he is all alone in his evil world

So he calls on others to join his fold

Like sheep they follow,

Even though inside they know he is wrong

And they have chosen weakness

Rather than being strong

It’s like he was drowning in a filthy ditch

And inside him, and all around him were

 his many sins

Then he calls out to his friends,

reaching out for their hand

And when they come closer, he pulls them in

Beware of such people,

Those you think are your friends

And if you are like the sinner

Repent now and make amends

If you can’t be a true friend at least don’t disguise

And hide evil intentions behind smiles,

deception and lies.

                                            What if?

If it happens, what will I do?

And what if this happens? And that too?

What if all that is ahead of me is struggle and strife?

What if I lose my possessions, my job, my life?

What if I never have much money

 and am always poor?

What if I never feel I have enough

 and always want more?

What if one by one I lose all my friend’s

And what if it’s my fault,

 and I’m unable to make amends?

What if I am always so ill

And the world moves on

While I am still

What if I break relationships with those I hold dear?

With all these frightening thoughts

 I almost choke with fear

It’s like I’m swirling round and round

in a violent whirlpool

But I have the power to get out, so I’m the fool

Because if I really try, I can make these worrying

thoughts stop

And be grateful for what I have,

Rather than worry over what I have not

And remember what I worry about may never happen

And if it does, I can deal with it then

And if it is something that has already happened

Why suffer over it… again?

My time is being robbed by all this self-inflicted grief

And I’m the culprit, I’m the thief

Stealing my own time, peace and sleep

Let with nothing but to worry and weep

So lets stop worrying, cheer up and vow

That we will make ourselves a better future

By making best use of now

                                                                Mrs Smith

Let me tell you about Mrs Smith – a single mum

Who lives with her daughter and her two sons

Each day when they wake

 she gets them ready for school

If it’s winter she makes sure they’re wrapped warm,

If it’s summer she makes sure they stay cool

She listens to their moans, tantrums,

 makes them breakfast

And for lunch she packs a tasty treat

Even within a couple of hours of waking

She has surely managed a great feat

Then she does the typical school run

Dropping them off to school with hugs and kisses

 one by one

Next she’s off to work where she works hard all day

Yes, she’s kind and warm but tough too,

 come what may

Then she rushes to pick her children up, can’t be late

And patiently waits outside the school gates

When they come she welcomes them with open arms

And if they’re anxious, worried, she listens

 and makes them calm

She’s the stability in their life, their rock,

support that doesn’t cease

But she’s also loving, caring, their source of

affection and peace

Before they sleep she reads them bedtime stories -

With her kids she shares happiness and fun

And then she retires to bed herself

When she’s done what she can and the day is done

She knows children’s hearts are very small

 and easily touched

That’s why she often reminds them

 she loves them very much

She loves her kids and they love her too

And they’ll stick together because

 love’s the stickiest glue

Yes, she’s a true hero

Because, if the truth be told

She thinks the world of her kids

And each day she saves the world

                                                         Ben

Let me tell you about a boy called Ben

He has Down’s Syndrome, you may have heard of it

Now and again

Ben is aware that he may not look like the other kids

But he feels good about himself, inside and out

Yes Ben is Ben and proud of it

We are all created different,

And we all deserve to live life to the full

Our diversity should bring out the love for each other

And realization we are all created beautiful

Ben is happy that his parents love and

 care for him a lot

They encourage and help him

And are grateful for the wonderful son they have got

He may have Down’s Syndrome

But he keeps his spirits high

And with lots of love and encouragement

He can reach the sky

                                                    Don’t suffer in silence

She bites her nails, anxious, scared

And from her eyes rolls down a tear

What will he say? What will he do?

Terrible thing – to live in fear

As soon as he comes in her heart jumps

She tries to read what mood he’s in

Here is the one who harms her and her kids

From outside and from within

He shouts, hits, his cruelty doesn’t stop

Over his family he wants complete control

And even if they submit he carries on

Feeling no remorse at all

Because if he really did feel bad

He could stop himself carrying out the abuse

But he doesn’t, blaming everyone but himself

And making excuse after excuse

And she, long suffering and in pain

Sometimes feels depleted, with nothing to give

Because her heart and soul are being hurt

And that’s where love is supposed to live

She has considered leaving

But what if he follows her?

What will people say?

Where should she go?

Where can she stay?

But if she stays not only will she suffer more

Her children will suffer too

There is no time for just thinking

It is time to stand up for yourself and do

Do what? Seek help, say no to fear

It’s time to end these tears

Everyone is born with a right

 not to suffer from violence

So act now, and don’t suffer in silence.

                                                     Where is He?

In the beating of the heart, He is there

In the innocent question of the child, He is there

When a mother goes without food, so that her

children can eat,

He is there

In the loving embrace between parent and child,

He is there

When you feel your life is more worth living,

Because you have found something worth dying for,

He is there

When you feel you have no strength left, but still will

yourself to go on,

In the very act of willing,

And in the will itself,

He is there

When you feel He is there, He is there

When you feel He isn’t there, He is there

When you wish you could take the place

 of one you love,

And suffer all the pain and hardship for them,

He is there

When you embrace a loved one,

And feel you could hold that embrace for eternity,

He is there

When you love someone, 

in the purest part of that love,

He is there

If you believe in Him, He is there,

If you don’t believe in Him, He is there,

The Loving, Merciful Creator,

He is here,

There,

Everywhere,

And beyond that.

                                                 Light travels faster than sound

Light travels faster than sound

That’s why you see the lightning first

Then hear the thunder

By natural laws this is bound

But we often get ahead of ourselves

And so make blunders

Often we make big decisions in haste

What career to choose, which partner, what path

Then when things go wrong we blame it on fate

And don’t know whether to cry or laugh

If we don’t know where we are heading,

Why and what for

We have scattered thoughts, actions and results

Like a leaf which goes wherever the wind blows

Which sometimes flies high and sometimes under

Snow gets stuck

But if you can focus on getting your foundations firm

Understand where you are going, how and why

You will succeed, grow strong and learn

Rather than like a fluttering leaf, wither and die

So take time out to think, to contemplate

And strive to reach your natural state.

                                                                Empty

Sometimes I look around

And feel there is a sense of emptiness

Outside, in markets, buildings, shops

And even existing within us

Even when in a sense places are full

Crowded stores, heavy traffic, bustling streets

I can’t help but notice how

This emptiness seems, strangely, complete

And there is emptiness in other ways too

Empty stomachs, empty pockets, cries and pleas

Famine, struggle of our fellow men

Suffering from unimaginable poverty

Whilst they lie starving, barely clothed,

On the floor

Others with plenty manage to complain

How they want more

And thinking this I think empty too am I

If I am unmoved by others’ suffering

And with selfish thinking comply

Even in some relationships is a sense of emptiness

Words spoken, things done, but nothing really meant

And with lying to each other, no loyalty, no fidelity

Further emptiness in our lives we implement

And thinking this I think empty too am I

If to the whole world and myself I lie

Much has been said about love

But I suppose that’s because there is much to be said

Because without love is emptiness

An emptiness like being dead

And don’t all faiths, creeds, values

Have at the heart of them love

Love for our true selves, each other

And the one above

Truly without love life is empty

And so empty would be I

If I lived without love and held nothing noble, sacred

For which I would die.

                                                I will whisper the word “love”

Some complain there are no morals these days

And any talk of humanity is all in vain

Cut-throat mentality, only caring about themselves

But people centuries ago said the same

Each new generation feels the cause is lost

That things were different then, and are different now

But we must work together to achieve harmony

And within our core, make this solemn vow

Now some may call me a rambling fool

Trying to repair with worn out tools

A building that has already collapsed

Or calling to take shade under a tree

Which has long ago been axed

But even if all around me strongly disagree

I will place this poem in a bottle, send it out to sea

And hope whoever finds it

Sincerely agrees with me

And I will whisper the word “love”

Whenever there is a passing breeze

Hoping the word catches on its tips

So that whenever it passes someone

 from the human race

It brings a glow to their heart, and a smile to their lips

Don’t give up on love

Don’t give up on peace

Don’t give up on humanity

We should not, and, I pray, will not,

Otherwise, what is left of us

Except a limited number of breaths

And flesh waiting to rot

So let’s relight our human spirit

To beautify this human form

It is not too late, the cause is not worn

Each day in you may there be humanness

And daily may fresh resolve be born.

                                                    Identity

Sometimes people ask me where I’m from

As if it was a question on some quiz

Well I was born and raised in Britain

But am also of Asian heritage

Here I am known by various names

Asian, British, South Asian, to name a few

Now, which one should I take?

If in this situation – what would you do?

And then I think about this word – “identity”

This feeling for wanting to be individual, unique

Identity – is it really that easy to simplify?

To group ourselves into boxes labelled neat?

This desire for uniqueness, identity

Can be found in everyone, in every land

And, just like peace, and love,

The search for it is as old as man

We all have different life experiences

And different families, upbringing, hopes and dreams

So we are already so individual, unique

And to explain further what I mean:

Remember that just as each morning the sun rises

And each second of every day is new

There has never been, and will never be, another me

And there has never been,

and will never be another you

I also sometimes feel an amicable affinity

With those of the same culture, language, race

And this shared collective identity gets clearer

As my thoughts begin to gather pace

There is nothing wrong with feeling part of

A shared culture, a shared identity

But the largest group to which we belong

Is the group of humanity

At the core of our beliefs, our rules of law

Are standards of moral, ethical righteousness

And values, principles, should be the guiding factor

Which guides, brings together and unites us

Yes we still keep our individual identity

And yes we have a cultural identity too

But don’t forget our belonging to the human race

So have the whole rather than the narrow view

                                                         Morals

What shall I talk about?

Anger?  Peace?  Love?  Hate?

Things which you have experienced

Things to which you can relate

Or things from which you feel far removed

And hearing them would make you unmoved

But then what is there that we don’t have

 an opinion on?

Don’t we all classify most things into right and wrong?

And why is this?

And where from?

Do we base opinions on our experiences in the past

Or on views of people now gone

Or is this sense of what is right innate

So that moral righteousness is our natural state

Or maybe it is both, and our natural state

Simply agrees with echoes of those

 who have said the same:

Truth, love and peace over materialism and fame

And do these questions even matter?

What are morals, why, who care?

But aren’t on these grounds based all our affairs?

When we discuss things, we don’t expect people to lie

When we pay someone for work

 we expect they will try

From our responsibilities we are not expected to hide

And our endeavors towards right conduct are

expected to be high

Law in all countries on such principles is based

That we do right and act in good faith

So because morals are ingrained in our daily life

To think why, where from is itself right

Know yourself and why you do the things you do

How you expect to be treated by others

And why you expect others to be true

Then you will see morals, righteousness

 are essential for peace

Not just for society, but for your own minds ease

                                                   Self-stereotype

Hey, what’s up? What are you looking at?

You got a problem then let’s fight

A lean mean bad boy, yeah that’s me

Need a smoke first, you got a light?

Hello, how are you? I say pleasantly, politely

And so professionally, because that’s what I am

I am allowed, therefore, to be overweight

And when I smoke, it’s because I’m a thoughtful man

Have you seen her over there? She thinks she’s it!

I’ll spread a vicious rumor to put her in her place

I’m the gossip queen with loads of friends

I can make you popular, or leave you without a trace

Have you seen me yet? Hey, over here!

I’m the cut-throat career woman,

doing whatever it takes

I feel no guilt, no fear, whatever I do

And am perfectly perfect, make no mistake

Do you recognize any of these stereotypes?

If you think about it, you probably do

Why do some people force themselves into them

And not just them, but also me, and you

Maybe we judge what others think about us

And try to act accordingly

Or think there is no other option

And that this is the way to be

You can’t always stop others from stereotyping

But refuse to self-stereotype

Refuse to put yourself into a box, be free

And simply be the best you can be.

                                                 I think we complain too much

We complain about not having enough choice

And also complain about having too much

So many designer labels to choose from

Is this clothing in? Is that out of touch?

A starving child decides what to choose

From a mountain of overbearingly stench-filled refuse

We complain when we are unemployed

And complain when back in work again

Never content either way with things

Whilst others work in conditions we can’t comprehend

Sweating profusely in a human factory line

In this dungeon there is no joy, no sense of time

We complain about not having enough money

Yet still refuse to live within our means

And some do anything for more and more

Thinking of all sorts of immoral schemes

A small boy struggles on the pavement,

shining shoes all day

Yet his meager wage doesn’t keep his family’s

 Hunger away

We complain about being stuck in traffic

And the noise on the buses, and oh, the trains!

And why do people talk so loud

All this tension starts to hurt our brains!

Deafening bombs are dropped, innocent families

Huddle in fear

In a war torn country, tightly embracing those they

Hold dear

Yes you may say it is all relative

But I still think we complain too much

And remember: If we are always ungrateful,

Always complain

Into bottomless holes of misery we descend

Whilst the reward of being grateful

Is an inner smile, a heart content.

                                             My lion friend

Oh my lion friend!

Why have they put you in this cage?

You must be feeling so much rage

When will this imprisonment end?

It is not the life for you

To be stuck, trapped in here

Do I see in brave eyes tears?

Tell me, what can we do?

These people have put you in this zoo

For their own pleasure, their amusement

Now have they done this for your betterment?

Or just an attraction to sometimes go to?

It is not a consolation

That your friends are also trapped

Monkeys, bears, even giraffes

All feeling such frustration

I, for one, do not agree

With people keeping you in this “home”

In the wild is where you should roam

Not caged in cruel captivity

Through your eyes, to me you confide

How you would love to have a family

How you would love to all live free

And how they would be your pride

So let’s hope people soon let you go

And do what they know is right

Better to live a short, full life

Than stay rotting here, dying slow

                                                                 Pure

I like the way the leaves encouragingly nod

 to each other

In the midst of a heavy storm

As if to say “It will be over soon”

And in the midst of a light breeze

My eyes half close in a dreamy bliss

A half mist, a welcome swoon

As each blessed raindrop falls

It makes a small ripple, like a river

As if marking for its successors which way to go

And in each ripple made

I find a little joy, a little peace

And a brief inner glow

The sun carries with it an infectious smile

And heat, and light, but in its modesty

bids you not to look

It doesn’t want to hurt your windows to the world

And not be able to behold the beauty in front of you

The path waiting to be trod, the open book

When lightning strikes and its’ brother claps

My heart jumps a little as it fills with fear and awe

And in the midst of the following storm

I can’t help but notice how these elements are,

so, pure

Maybe because they are so pure

Is why they have such a powerful allure 37

Sometimes I am amazed at the abundance of

Sometimes I am amazed at the abundance of air

How we constantly breathe in and how it is endlessly

Renewed

And how, even though a part of so much air,

Countless other breaths

Each breath comes to us lovingly, in solitude

He breathed one breath, the spirit, into the first man

And man can’t help but take in air into himself

 Ever since

Breathing constantly day and night

As if trying to get closer, and closer

To the origin

Of that first breathe.

                                                                Crazy Horse

With strength, agility, youth

A zest for life, twinkle in the eye

Joy in each leg, spring in each hoof

Crazy horse’s chest fills with pride

Out with opportunity on a vast open plain

This plain we call the world

This opportunity we call life

Crazy horse has no real aim

So stays ineffective

Like a broken compass

A blunt knife

Galloping with all his strength

Because he is strong and he can

He manages to traverse great lengths

But can’t remember what the original plan was

Sometimes in storms the thunder claps

Then how his heart fills with fear

And as if seeing his straying path

How the rain falls like tears

Sometimes in panic he darts this way and that

Scared he still doesn’t know where he aims to go

When tired, worn, on the vast plains he is sat

Noticing he is beginning to tire, legs beginning to slow

How it all seemed to have started so well

Full of energy and desperate to explore

But he had never acted on the beliefs he held

And had distracted himself from the questions

 why and what for

Now lying here with his life slowly ebbing away

In the distance, pride of youth and strength

filling their chests

Other crazy horse’s gallop fearlessly, come what may

That same passion, pride and zest

He calls to them to contemplate,

not self destruct so fast

Yes to gallop bravely but have an aim

And live each day as if it is the last

Not as if they will live forever, 

with each day the same

But they barely look at him

And in rude arrogance snort

And crazy horse’s heart bleeds

As he passes away

Look where he started

And to where he is brought

And how he never had an aim

Never found the way

                                                  This, too, shall pass

A leaf, once nestled snugly in a tree

Is released to the earth when the season comes

But in this is a sense of sweet, sublime order

Like the wonder of the bee, our orbit round the sun

As one season gently changes to the next

Where once fallen leaves were, new leaves grow

And on reflection this cycle of life and death

Is also embedded in our very core

Many people see youth, grow old and die

And whole civilizations too have seen their prime

 then passed

Making way for new civilizations,

 like we to our posterity

Truly none of us are built to last

And our circumstances vary too, like the seasons

But don’t be perplexed or find this strange

In our circumstances is one abiding truth

The only thing permanent in them is change

But be like the shell in the sea

Which enjoys the waters playful flow

And doesn’t complain when left alone

Dry, cold, on the shore

And when you put it to your ear

You hear a sweet, romantic melody

Which says so much, including one desire

I will strive to reach the blessed sea

Or like the raindrop, once a part of a

water laden cloud

Falls from such a great height, all alone

And as it falls hard onto the ground

It doesn’t once complain or look up with scorn

The raindrop and the shell will reach the sea

And from there the raindrop will reach the clouds

Work to get to where you want to be

Rather than daily covering yourself with

a pessimistic shroud

Whenever faced with difficult circumstances

A sudden loss, a difficult task

Patiently persevere, remembering

 Another abiding truth

That this too, my friend shall pass

                                                The agitation of craving

The agitation of craving

Oh! The unrest in this state

Should I or shouldn’t I

Is it my weakness or indecisiveness I hate

But isn’t the indecisiveness caused by weakness

I must decide quickly between right and wrong

I could end it now with a decision

So why am I dragging it out so long

And when you decide what you know is right

And that decision is firm, unshaken, unmoved

There is a sudden peace that settles in and calms

And over this I am left to brood

If whenever in this state I act quickly

And make the decision I know to be

 guilt free and right

Deciding without the slightest doubt

I have a strong chance of winning that daily fight

The struggle with the lower self, that impure beast

Which pushes us to the pit of  vile vice

And encourages infestation of impure thoughts, deeds

Like a terrifying plague of ever-breeding lice

That suspension, indecision of whether to

 succumb or resist

Those moments are like a cobra’s deadly poise

Except we are often the poisonous reptiles

Leaving ourselves defenseless to be used as our

desires toys

Control cravings, control yourself

Discipline your body and mind

And you will get closer in that goal to find

That rest, that peace

                                                Some parents

It may sound strange, even slightly bizarre

But some parents try to harm their kids

Possibly from the world this may be hid

As they try to stamp out a shining star

They do anything they can to stop their progress

Taunting, deluding them, mocking every

 step of the way

Hoping the fear they force into their hearts stays

So even the thought of dreams causes them distress

Why do they do this? One might rightly ask

What is wrong with them that they act like this

Instead of support, why do they plant

 a poisonous kiss

On a growing trees roots, so in terror it basks

A possible reason for this dangerously diseased,

twisted mind

Is they feel their whole life has been a blunder

So stealthily, and openly, they trample

 their children under

Burning their personalities, so their character

 is hard to find

Feeling a failure, they don’t want to raise success

In the shape of bright, enthusiastic, capable children

Locking up their talents and dreams

 in the darkest dungeon

Hiding robes of hope, in despondency

 they make them dress

Taking cruel advantage of their vulnerability

 and dependence

Their attack is multi-faceted and accurately aimed

Until little children’s spirits are hurt, prospects maimed

Then washing with their tears any remaining evidence

A curse on such “parenting” and shame on

 such “parents”

We should do what we can to help children succeed

To be open, happy, from fear’s shackles be free

And let them have their chance – it’s their entitlement.

                                                         Don’t delude yourself

Even though it’s the thought of heaven we love and

hell we hate

At the end of each day outside hells gates we wait

For our life’s span is but a collection of

 days and nights

And if each day and night is sin how can we expect

heaven’s delight

Yes He is Merciful and forgives

But if we insist on sinning as long as we “live”

With no desire to repent or reform

Sinning till our body and soul are weary and worn

How can we expect salvation

When daily through our deeds we ask for

 eternal damnation

We don’t need to wait for hell,

we already have one here

Our deeds making us tremble and shake with fear

Will anyone find out what we have done

Paranoid and wary of everyone

Our conscience is a constant stubborn reminder

No matter how hard we try to drown it out

And guilt pours into our mind and soul

We try to suppress it with barriers

 which look tall and stout

Barriers such as denial we even did such things

Or trying to justify we had no choice

Or distractions to confuse our mind

Surrounding ourselves with needless tasks and

endless noise

But these barriers by their nature are weak

 and bound to fall

For our words, thoughts and actions catch up to us all

When finally facing up to it, there is more fear,

restlessness, regret

And wishing we had done

 what we know to be right instead

Don’t delude yourself – and change for the better

                                                                         Anger

To the victim of anger’s heartlessness I would say

Stay calm until their red mist passes away

And to the weak person who gives in to anger

I would say

Control your anger, don’t let it control you

Before you’re forced to pay your actions due

And what will this be but a mountain of regret

Heavy sighs and relationships in shreds

Then having to sew up the pieces over time

When time is short enough and we leave loved ones

Or they leave us, behind

Passing away from this world with aching hearts,

in pain

Whilst we are unable to console, or hurt them, again.

                                                       Untitled

What can I write about when all words fail me

And my emotion is at its height

When, bereft of words and left with purest feeling

On looking for words, I find them kneeling

Because what they attempt to describe is there

In purest form

And whilst each second of emotion is new

Words now seem old and worn

Except the words which arise not from the mind

But from the soul

And in their single singularity do their best

To describe the whole

Words such as love, and peace, and truth

And on reflection I find all these words describe,

And are,

One

                                    The moon, the branches, and myself

Last night I looked out from my bedroom window

And saw the moon – the view slightly obscured

By the branches of a tree in front of me

I was amazed

The moon was so far away,

and yet in such a long distance,

In a straight line there were only three solid entities,

The moon, the branches, and myself

(The earth’s atmosphere is made up of gases

So when they show you that seemingly solid picture

Of the earth in space, it is not as solid as it looks)

I then mused over how far away the moon was

I checked on the internet –

Average distance of 238,857 miles

Wow.

 They say people used to think the moon was made

 Of cheese

Sounds so silly now

But then we still believe over-spending

will make us happy

Or materially poorer people are by default inferior.

Thinking the moon is made of cheese seems much

Less harmful.

I drew my curtains, earlier I was unsure

 Whether to do so

As even though the moon was out

The sky had been an in-between color

Not light nor yet fully dark

But later I knew it was time to draw them

As clearly as I had drawn that imaginary line

Between myself and the moon earlier

It’s interesting isn’t it

How we have the desire to relate everything

 Around us

No matter how near or far, to ourselves

And that it is only humans who are able to do so

To such an extent

And that sometimes we just can’t help but

Contemplate

The source of our existence

As if the Source itself had implanted this thirst

 within us.

I leave the night lamp to do its assigned job.

                                                                     “They” say

Have you ever cautiously walked along the pavement

Trying to avoid stepping on the cracks

As if they were dynamite?

To date I have not noticed any sudden explosion

When myself or others have stepped on them

They also say breaking a mirror causes

 seven years bad luck

What a shame, if you break another mirror

In your final days of the seven years

Another seven years to wait!

And they say a sudden shiver down your spine

Means someone is walking

Over the place you will be buried

It’s strange how that place, with no mind of its own

Can communicate that to you

There are thousands of superstitions across other

cultures too

For example a black cat crossing your way is

supposedly bad luck

Imagine the frightful fate of people

Who have one as a pet!

And imagine the danger you are in

Not being aware of all these potential pitfalls!

Yes “they say” a lot of things

I wonder who “they” are

I have a hunch they would say themselves

That “they” are to blame for coming up

With such self-limiting, fright chaining

 at the throat superstitions

Maybe we feel a need to say these things

As a way of trying to have control over

Preventing bad future events happening to us

We would have more control if we took

 more practical steps

And think carefully before we say and do things

Superstition, paranoia, enclosed, fearful “existence”

I have decided to banish superstition from myself

Because it makes a mockery of life.

                                                            Pizza – take out

Recently I ordered some pizza to take out

As I sat and waited for my order

I noticed that taken for granted

 murmur of conversation

Which would be so missed if I was here alone

I also noticed the staff walking around, talking

And mused over how I had stepped into

 a part of their reality,

Their world, for a few moments

And if I hadn’t come here they wouldn’t have seen me

And I wouldn’t have seen them

And thinking on it further, whenever we enter

A different setting, a building, public space,

All have their own atmosphere, and people there are

all different

With different values, characteristics,

And their life’s past

And currently shaping, as we all are,

Our life’s future

Is there some underlying meaning in all this?

Or is it just wandering wisdom, careless bliss?

Simply that I would say in each setting.

In each scene of every day of our life

We often have the ability to improve the atmosphere,

The vibes, even if only slightly, for the better

Making each setting, and our life experience, better

And so we should do so

Back to the order

After smiling and politely accepting it

I walked back with the two pizza boxes in hand

As I walked I judged whether people thought

I was being greedy by having two pizzas

And whether they had guessed it wasn’t all for me

It’s scary how we are so judgmental

That as well as judging others

We even try to judge what others are judging

About us, or even about other people

“Based” on what we have judged to be

 their characteristics,

views, and overall life

So much judging!

And yet so little evidence!

Another thing learnt – don’t be too judgmental

Or, for that matter, too anything

I never knew so much could come out of

 getting a take out

But maybe we just don’t learn enough

 from our experiences

And are surprised when someone takes more than

just the physical

I hope you take something positive from this.

                                   Would I have remembered to ask?

If I had been asked before I was born

What blessings I wished were mine

Would I have remembered to ask for life itself?

And breath, and an allotted time?

And speaking of breath, would I have remembered

To ask to make breathing instinctive

So that there was no risk of forgetting

And cutting short my time to live

And speaking of speaking, would I have remembered

To ask for the ability to speak

And for eyes to see and ears to hear

And nose to smell, and hands, and feet

What if I had forgotten to ask

That blood in my body should circulate

And I should be able to move and work

To earn the food on my plate

What if I had forgotten to ask

To be born into a family

And was left feeling so alone

Feeling this loneliness was just in, and was, me

What if it had slipped my mind

To ask for that major blessing – consciousness

So that I could freely think, contemplate

And help to understand myself, each other,

and unite us

And imagine I had not asked for love

And was left feeling far from His grace

Finding emptiness and fear in myself

And from everyone, and in every place

And it terrifies me to think of my state

If I had not asked for guidance to what is right

And how then my life would have been death itself

And all hours plunged in perpetual night

But thankfully He in His Mercy

Has given us so much, without us asking

Thank Him for all your blessings

Thank Him for your trials

For even in those are blessings we don’t always see

And thank Him for being able to thank Him.

                                                         Physically unseen, yet so real

Is it true that we only believe what we can

physically see?

Have you ever seen thoughts?

Have you ever seen feelings?

No – you have seen their effects

In the form of words, actions,

And have thought, felt them

In yourself, so you believe they exist

Just like you have felt the wind

And seen its effects

Blowing leaves and trees

And isn’t everything we say or do

As a result of physically unseen

Thoughts and intentions, and physically

Unseen emotions, values, beliefs,

Influencing our thoughts, actions, words

And surely our state of consciousness

To think thoughts, reason, feel emotion

Cannot be born out of a state of unconsciousness

But must be created by an Ultimate Higher

Consciousness

Because how can something unconscious

Create something conscious?

Yes there is a physical dimension to us

But at the heart of everything we say, do, think, feel

Is the physically unseen

Yet physically manifest:

Thoughts, emotions, values, beliefs

So is it really that implausible

To believe there is an Ultimate Unseen,

Higher Consciousness

Not visible, but at the same time

The Most Visible

Source of all Existence

The One and Only

Creator

                                          Why do we spread sickness?

The child looks at everything with an open mind

And smiles a smile both innocent and kind

The deer gently bows, and drinks water by the stream

And it, and all around it, seems so beautiful, serene

The trees stand tall, green and full

And all is in a calm, peaceful lull

Then along come us grown men and women

Thinking we know best, are wise of life

And bitter over the state we’re in

Start to cut through beauty with cruelty’s knife

The trees are hacked down and taken away

Acres of forest left barren in a day

The child is taught to be cynical, bitter and to doubt

And taught prejudice, stereotype, which we should

live without

The deer is shot, lying in a pool of blood

Can such senseless cruelty be understood?

Why do we have this urge, to spoil this fair nature

And harm it, destroy it, appalled at its beauty

Is it because we ourselves are so sick

That we want everyone and everything around us to

be sick too?

A horrid, frightful state

See the signs

Come to your natural, pure, beautiful state

And be one in harmony with the pure nature

around you

                                                                     Backbiting

Ears, like leeches, thirst for rumors

And their tongues, so desperate to spread vicious lies

The virus is welcome by those most greedy

Those who devour such rubbish like feasting flies

Once they have spoken to their hearts content

And left, for now, with nothing more to say

They part company (what a wasted company)

Going along their wayward way

On meeting the ones about whom lies they spread

They find it hard to look them in the eye

So they try to share another rumor with them

 to cover up

Their overbearing shame, and their oh so heavy

 souls sigh

Is that slight tinge of excitement on spreading gossip

Worth all the misery that it caused?

And isn’t a mentality thinking it is worth it

So vicious, dangerous, and frighteningly flawed?

Remember the person spreading rumors

 with such zest

Is not respected by those they tell, or their victims

Because they can easily tarnish anyone’s reputation

Disloyalty is the disease they are immersed in

Backbiting:

Reputation tarnishing

Soul damaging

Needless

                                                                Simple

Think of a desert

Full of so much sand

And from all of this

You hold one grain in your hand

So small, so light

In your hand it sits

But still, of this desert

In your hand is a part of it

And likewise, though the universe is vast

And full of things huge and small

As you exist, remember that

You are a part of the whole

And remember you also have a soul

And guidance, reason, love, light

And duty to do what you have to do

Following the path which is right

A simple message

In simple words

Truly in simplicity there is beauty

                                                           A pen, a piece of paper

A pen, a piece of paper

On their own do nothing

But when we write with the pen

Onto the paper

Using our thoughts to think

Hands to write

And expressing ourselves

Searching for the truth

Through contemplative writing

Tapping into our emotions

And using our reason

We give our soul

A little shape in words

But we can’t express it fully

So we keep trying

And trying

In essence what we desire

Is peace, love, truth

And even thinking about

And writing these words

Gives a glimmer of hope

                                                      My only constancy is in sin

My only constancy is in sin

I am a parched desert of sin

Pleading for the rain of mercy

And when it comes

With repeated sin, I cause a drought again

A dry, withered soul

Weeping in blood

As it has no water left

To moisten the eyes

And again I plead for mercy

And again it comes

And yet again, through constant sin

I cause another drought

When will I reform

When will I stop making a mockery

Of my “repentance”

Through lack of sincerity

And when will I start combining prayer

With positive action

I must do so soon

Before my eyes are blinded

By the dust of ignorance

Which I sweep into my own eyes

And heart is stuck

Into an indifferent mould of rock

And I lose my way

Trapped

In a dark, lonely

Cursed state.

                                                               I don’t preach to you

 because I think I am better

I don’t preach to you because I think I am better

I am human, I also sin

I just wish to use my ability to express in words

The truth we all know within

What we know but we don’t always admit

Scared of the change we will have to make

 because of it

The fact that we know what is right and wrong

That we are responsible

We decide whether to be weak or strong

We know which path leads to sadness and grief

And which path leads to calm and peace

But we lie to ourselves that we don’t know

 which is which

Drowning ourselves with our own petty lies

 and self-deceit

I don’t preach to you because I think I am better

I am human, I also sin

But I do admit I know it is my choice to do right

 or wrong

So let’s be honest to ourselves,

Make the right choice,

And move on

                                                                  Like water

Like water, help me adapt to my circumstances

When in tight, enclosed circumstances

With difficulties surrounding me

Help me adapt and stay patient and calm

Whilst still standing clear

Maintaining the clarity of faith,

And self-respect

And when things are easier

Help me make the most of it

And still maintain clarity of faith

And dignity

And throughout all times

Let the flow of my thoughts, words and actions

Be towards you, O Sustainer

The Source

Let’s not build a dam of sin

To stop our natural flow

Suppressing our higher nature

Until we are drowned, in silence

                                                           Vulnerability is my robe

Vulnerability is my robe

Neediness is my crown

And in this desperate state

I place my forehead on the ground

Before True Majesty, the True king

The One who knows everything

Including what I openly show

And what I hold within

And my few deeds of good

And my many mountains of sin

When humbling myself before Him

I feel a sense of peace

And on thinking of a vulnerable feather

Propped up gently

By a sweet breeze

I am reminded of ourselves

With our many weaknesses

Lifted, by hope

Hope for mercy, forgiveness, and strength.

                                                    Repent now and reform

Never fall out of his grace

Because if you decide to,

You will find the world an even lonelier place

And you will also find it dark and cold

And realize you are too,

Except you quickly also grow old

Whilst others carry on with life

Oblivious as to whether you exist

As if between you and them there is some heavy mist

But this mist in ancient,

And the reason for it is clear

Most people only care about their own affairs

And those they hold dear

So no matter how much you scream and shout

Even though others should help,

Don’t rely on them to pull you out

Pull you out from that desperate state

When you can’t escape from yourself

When it is yourself you hate

So take control and calm this raging storm

Repent now and reform

                                                                Being alive

When we move, we show up the stillness

 of inanimate things

And when we speak, we show up their quietness

And when we quietly contemplate ourselves and

everything around us

And what we know, and how much we don’t

Contemplating to the height of our abilities

We show up the constant death of inanimate things

The dullness of unthinking people

And ourselves become wholly yet quietly alive

Let’s give being alive its due status.

                                                             Potential

Like red rubies in a pomegranate

Packed tightly in their case

You have a treasure of potential

But you avert your face

Frightened of the work that it involves

You don’t admit what you can do

And scared of the freedom possible

You prefer to take the narrow view

This is it, this is my lot, you say

And with resignations stamp you seal your life

But you still hear that nagging thought

That to give up like this is just not right

Because potential is a gift

And gifts are supposed to be used

How would you react

If a gift you lovingly gave was refused?

He gave us talents, abilities

To help us make the most of life

And help the rest of creation

And develop ourselves to our height

Develop your skills, talents, reason

Use them in the best way

He loves not the wasters.

                                                              Goodwill

My wish for you is peace

What a wonderful wish

So what is your wish for me

Now knowing this?

Do you return the goodwill

And offer a silent prayer for me

Or do you secretly wish

Only your heart should be free

Free from anxiety, worry, grief

No stress and living life to the full

Whilst I, and others should be miserable

Always anxious, depressed and deeply dull

And if I wish you success

In every sense of the word

And that your life should be clear

Not confused and blurred

Do you return this wish

For all your fellow men

Do you wish them guidance

Or want them trapped in the darkest den?

Why do some people

With hearts hard and cold

Want the best for themselves

And a lot less for the world

Surely we are all so blessed

And the Provider of blessings is without limit

So let’s fill our hearts with sincere goodwill

And like flowers in the sun, rejoice in it.

                                             Cleanliness – inside and out

I have a pen mark on my hand

And wish to remove it

So I rub it with some water

And the mark is gone

And there is a food stain on my shirt

Accidentally caused when it dropped

So I wash the short thoroughly

And the stain is gone

My car is dusty

In need of a wash

So I scrub it well

And the dust is gone

But what shall I do about

The mark on my conscience

The stain on my heart

The shroud of dust over my soul?

All this is inside me

And so cleaning must also be done from there

Cleanse my heart, mind, soul from all evil

Making sincere repentance over what is done

Over comparatively small things

We make so much effort for cleanliness

Let’s clean the most precious things –

Our minds, hearts and souls

Because without doing so

We always feel unclean, uncomfortable, unhappy

And reflecting on all this

I find the desire for cleanliness,

For purity, both physical and moral,

Is our natural state.

                                                                   Deep breath

I take in a deep breath

Then slowly let it out

And then decide to think on

What life is about

Is one deep breath enough for this?

Do I not need to take more?

But isn’t this breath similar to the next?

And the one that has gone before?

And is it just time I need for this task?

What of contemplation, and reason?

And sincerity to know the truth

With resolve not to commit treason

Treason in regards to what?

In that I must not betray

The soul that acknowledges within me

That I am not here to stay

That to fill this short time

With good words, thoughts, deeds

Is the way to find peace, love

And is within the core of every creed

Like birds given beautiful wings

To fly and soar, in peace and free

We must ascend in our character

And listen to our soul’s plea:

I was sent to you pure

Don’t pollute me with sin

Let’s go back to our Creator

With light, in love.

                                              Be confident, my friend

Be confident, my friend

I’ve said it once, and I’ll say it again

Be confident, my friend

Trust in yourself, take control

Don’t hide away scared, stand courageous and tall

Don’t walk around feeling empty

Know that you are blessed and whole

You have so many opportunities,

talents and other gifts

And all you do is dig yourself into a pit

Telling yourself you can’t, you won’t, it’s too late

And telling yourself stories of bad luck and fate

When in truth the choice is yours

The future is in your hands

Nothing gets done by just making plans

You must also do, and as you try

You will feel life’s natural high

Of this advice please take heed:

Be confident and succeed

Yourself with yourself constantly pleads

Don’t be scared, trust in yourself and be freed.

                                    I still think we complain too much

What is it like to not eat for days

And still seeing no signs of a morsel of bread

What is it like to be so thirsty you can’t speak

And rather than water, tasting dry dust instead

What is it like to be worked to extreme exhaustion

Not even given a few hours to sleep

What is it like to sleep outside

After already spending hours in scorching heat

What is it like to be blind for years

Not being able to afford the operation to see

What is it like to be constantly suffocating in

Unimaginable, painful poverty

What do we know? How can we describe?

Ask someone who has experienced these things

But words alone won’t be able to do justice

To these situations and the pain it brings

But we have problems too, you may say

Debt, stress, health, relationships and others

And I agree, but aren’t the above stressful too?

And don’t they show more than debt, but poverty

Cause stress in relationships, damage health

And cause other problems?

Yes we have problems too

But I still think we complain too much.

                                                      Be positive

I can try to use words to express

Emotions such as love, fear, distress

But remember exactly how someone feels

That person alone knows best

Because even if you have experienced a similar thing

And think you know the feelings it brings

How we react and feel can differ between us

Take for example a child grows and leaves us

And decides to start a life of more independence

Some parents may feel proud, happy, even relieved

Other may feel cheated, robbed, despondent

Or a loved one dies, never to be seen again

Obviously all would feel sad

But some may remember the good times they shared

Whilst others may just wallow in grief, feeling alone

and scared

Or take the start of something new –

A marriage, a new job, a new place to live

Some may feel apprehensive but also excited,

 full of life

Others completely stressed, depleted,

 with nothing to give

The same event, different emotions,

to different degrees

So it is not easy to pinpoint with ease

How someone feels due to a given event

But we can usually empathize and support

to some extent

And remember how we react to situations

Depends largely on whether we are positive

 or negative

And we should be as positive as possible

To ensure we really live.                                                                    

                                                                   A street lamp

A street lamp shining in the fog

And quiet, so quiet, on the street

The whole town covered in two layers

One of fog, the other dark night’s sheet

Together they give the false impression

That everyone in each house is asleep

But there is always someone anxiously awake

And someone else who woefully weeps

The next day, the anxious one laughs carefree

Whilst the one who wept now smiles

Putting a cover on for the world

They act as if unaware of trials

We may see some slight symptoms

A sudden look of pain, a distracted mind

Just a little smoke indicating a fire

That slowly burns behind

Not all of us tell each other

What situations we are going through

Cruelly some would use it as ammunition

Spreading your secret to embarrass you

And others may not do this

But don’t want to share any pain

Feeling they have enough to deal with

Treating other’s problems with disdain

So don’t assume each house is in peace

And that each heart is in rest

Everyone has their own trials to overcome

Because life is a constant test

                                              Sleep

Eyelids get heavy, start to close

Without knowing, into sleep we go

Another daily blessing, providing rest

But one fact we should also know

That each night we lay down our head

Remember sleep is the little brother of death

A daily reminder of our death to come

To which everyone living is made to succumb

Best then to fill each day with positivity

And on death, with a smile, pure heart, embrace

Eternity

                                                  Traffic

Stuck in traffic!

The frustration! The stress!

An endless queue of cars

As far as I can see

And beyond that too

Most probably

So I helplessly sit here

Look ahead, left and right

Will I get back soon

Or still be here at night?

The cars on the other side

Of the dual carriageway

Drive past with such ease

Whilst I look set to stay

On this small bit of road

When I still have miles to go

Road rage may be setting in

Am I about to blow!

Whose fault was it anyway?

Who caused this pile up

A thousand thoughts I think of

I must tell myself to shut up!

Even if I think a thousand thoughts

It won’t help me move an inch

Best then to sit patiently

Truly patience is a virtue

And helps prevent needless stress.

                                             First formless, then given form

Us

First formless, then given form

Like words on a page

Or like water vapour in the air

Condensing to rain

And just like the rain

Which after doing its job on the earth

Then turns back into water vapour

To return to the clouds

Our souls too will return

To their Source.

                                 Who will have lost, who will have won

When all is said and all is done

Tell me, who will have lost and who will have won

The one who leaves behind echoes of cruel words

And hearts in pain

Or the one who leaves love which renews itself

Again and again

The one who leaves with a darkened, empty soul

Or the one who leaves with light, in faith and whole

The one who is remembered as vicious, vile

Or the one who remembered with

an affectionate smile

The one who was too proud to repent

And is left for eternity to lament

Or the one who repented while alive

Who did good deeds and against evil strived

Of our Creators words take heed

And earnestly hurry towards good deeds.

                                     Houses, Streets, Other Places, Love

Sometimes we see places

Which we have not seen for years

They look as familiar as people, old faces

And may bring us a smile, or close to tears

Because in these buildings, streets from our past

We used to walk, live, had our homes

Then as the seasons quickly passed

Both of us look slightly worn

Standing face to face with old homes, schools, streets

We remember the past and all its memories

Some feel bitter and some are sweet

As we react, as humans do, emotionally

But, what is this?

These buildings, once our homes

These streets, old schools and all within

Look at us totally unmoved, detached, alone

Totally unaware of the state we’re in!

All these things were built by ourselves

Homes, streets, built with bricks and slates

So don’t expect any loving hellos or farewells

These things are things – inanimate

What did we expect? That they would say

“Where did you go?” “Remember when...”

Whether standing or in a pile of rubble they lay

They don’t think, feel, as we women,

 children and men

In essence a place is only remembered fondly

By the love, peace, that dwelled amongst us there

So let’s show each other love,

 understanding and loyalty

And in this way, may blessed be everyone,

everything, everywhere.

                                              Time – 

How long do the effects of our words

 and deeds last?

Are they limited to our life span only?

Our lives will last for a certain time

And then we will pass away

So in essence we are just travelers

None of us are here to stay

And when we go the only people

 who will have seen is

Will be a few of those alive within our life’s span

And then they, too, will go

Unable to resist deaths firm hand

So does any trace of us die with them?

No

When all is said and all is done

And all that physically remains of us is

 a decaying skeleton

Our thoughts, words and actions still echo

 through the earth

And through these we ourselves live on:

If you hurt someone in any way

It may be only with that person that the hurt stays

But they may also inflict it on someone else

So another innocent suffers

 after you have passed away

 And good deeds also have a similar effect

If something you say or do pleases someone’s heart

They may share it on so they, the happy receiver

And you, are all blessed

And in this way our words and deeds carry on

Living long after we ourselves are gone

And when we stand before our Maker

Our words will speak and our actions will show

All it was we said and did before

So be careful of what you think, say and do

Because these are not just part of – they are you

                                                                   Beginning

Let the words from my pen flow

As I tap into my very core

Totally open, honest, be a lover of truth

And write with forever youth

                              The End:
These poems written by Saqib Hussain and allowed me to give on my blogspot for youth to read.Its in form of Book.Saqib Hussain Lives in United Kingdom.

 CONTEMPLATE

                                                                            A Collection of Poetry

                                                                                                                by

                                                                                                                     Saqib Hussain

                                                                                                Pen Press 

Copyright © Saqib Hussein 2010

All rights reserved

No part of this publication may be reproduced,

Stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted

in any form or by any means, without

the prior permission in writing of the publisher,

nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover

other than that in which it is published and without a similar

Condition including this condition being imposed on the

Subsequent purchaser

First published in Great Britain by

Indepenpress Publishing Ltd

25 Eastern Place

Brighton

BN2 1GJ

ISBN13: 978-1-907499-65-4

Printed and bound in the UK

A catalogue record of this book is available from

the British Library

Cover design by Jacqueline Abromeit

Author’s Foreword

Why have I written this collection of poetry?

In an age where we are frantically rushing around in search of

material possessions, many of us are neglecting or even

denying our true nature with the result of attaching more

and more possessions to ourselves whilst becoming woefully

darker and emptier on the inside. 

Though of course we require material possessions, it is vital

to accept that our true nature in its uncorrupted form is

based on faith, love and righteousness in thought, word and

deed. 

Contrary to this pure essence, we are constantly trying to run

away from our conscience, engaging in hating others and

acting as if we are here forever when in fact our time here is

temporary.

I hope that by reading this collection of powerful, emotive

poetry that readers will be stimulated into contemplation

and subsequent action to better both themselves and

society. I also wish to highlight topics not always discussed

and also want the poetry to inspire and encourage.

Finally another reason for writing this collection is to share

my talent of writing poetry – we all have a duty to develop

and share our gifts and I would encourage all readers to

develop and share the talents they have to benefit both

themselves and others.

I sincerely hope that everyone who reads this book will get

something positive from it and help me to spread the poetry

and ultimately the message to others.

In these lives of ours, so temporary

Let’s leave something which is permanent:

Goodness.

Saqib Hussain

Table of Contents                                            Page

Conscience                                                             1                                                                                       

Desire’s chains                                                       3

If I hate what I should love                                      4

A rose                                                                     6

Let me write and recite                                           8

Self-distraction                                                       9

Give up hatred                                                     10

Friends?                                                               11

What if?                                                                13

Mrs Smith                                                             15

Ben                                                                       17

Don’t suffer in silence                                           18

Where is He?                                                        20

Light travels faster than sound                              22

Empty                                                                    23

I will whisper the word “love”                                 25

Identity                                                                   27

Morals                                                                    29

Self-stereotype                                                       31

I think we complain too much                                 33

My lion friend                                                          35

Pure                                                                        36

Crazy Horse                                                            38

This, too, shall pass                                                40

The agitation of craving                                           42

Some parents                                                          44

Don’t delude yourself                                              46

Anger                                                                      48

Untitled                                                                    49

The moon, the branches, and myself                      50

“They” say                                                                52

Pizza – take out                                                        54

Would I have remembered to ask?                          56

Physically unseen, yet so real                                 58

Why do we spread sickness?                                  60

Backbiting                                                                61

Simple                                                                       62

A pen, a piece of paper                                             63

My only constancy is in sin                                        64

I don’t preach to you  because I think I am better     65

Like water                                                                  66

Vulnerability is my robe                                              67

Repent now and reform                                             68

Being alive                                                                 69

Potential                                                                     70

Goodwill                                                                      71

Cleanliness – inside and out                                      72

Deep breath                                                                74

Be confident, my friend                                               76

I still think we complain too much                                77

Be positive                                                                   78

A street lamp                                                                80

Sleep                                                                            81

Traffic                                                                           82

First formless, then given form                                     83

Who will have lost, who will have won                          84

Houses, Streets, Other Places, Love                            85

Time                                                                              87

Beginning                                                                      89

………………………………………………………..

To know more Saqib's writing, Click on 
http://www.voiceofunity.com/conscience-%E2%80%94-one-of-our-best-friends
http://www.wikihow.com/Manage-Floods---Suggestions
http://www.wikihow.com/Clear-Your-Bad-Thoughts
http://www.amazon.co.uk/Contemplate-Saqib-Hussain/dp/1907499652/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1346080465&sr=8-1