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POETS' FOUNTAIN OF TEARS
I am like John Keats,
And Emily Bronte,
Gifted with the insight,
To see things as they are,
And not as they appear.
The truth behind facades,
The faces behind masks,
Are ugly to be disclosed,
To many people here.
That's why I feel alone ,
And melancholic,
For, to all true poets,
There's little to be merry.
This life is different,
From what it looks like,
And most men and women,
Have beast-like claws --
--Claws that seek pleasure,
And enjoyment in pursuits,
That nourish selfishness,
And hatred of others.
Each sunset kills me,
As my hopes keep dying,
The hopes to see humans,
And humaneness thriving.
But I have to survive,
And not accept defeats,
So I reach out to the One,
Unlike Emily and Keats.
My God is my best friend,
And I re-programme myself,
By remembering Him often,
I prepare for the destined.
I am described as a snob,
And some go even further,
And give me bad names,
And stab my character.
I am misunderstood
Like Keats and Emily
And I told you before,
I must bear pain patiently.
For truly poetic natures,
Are deep and sensitive,
Yet our sadness,
Gives much to cultures.
For we, through our poetry,
Refine brutish features,
And many find solace
In our fountains of tears.
Real poetry isn't easy,
To be gushed out on paper
It's a slow-killing poison
That consumes one quietly.
It claimed Keats and Emily,
And even P.B. Shelley,
And like the above three
It's devouring me slowly.
(Written by Muhammad Naveed Ahmed/Emmenay. Posted on April 13, 2011).
'The Under Honored Poet'
where as
poets
I've always believed
to be
fountains of hope themselves
they, with their gift and skill
are able to churn
beauty from the
twisted remains
of even the harshest
misunderstanding
and pain
they are reverse wires
free flowing back on
former negatives
and distributing
universal rhythms of
integrated harmony
the poet can many times
be the actual conduit
for which others reach through
from deep inside themselves
and amid the spectrum of this
or that particular poem
they too
are able to touch
in themselves and share with
another just what joy and or
infliction is currently
invading their own heart
imagine such reader's wonder
when they locate words
that express their deepest
personal meaning that they before
believed nobody else could
comprehend in them
and then
they happen upon a dusty
old book of poems written
nearly 140 years ago
by a person of a bygone era
who has been dead years prior
to even their own grandparents' birth
the chords of communion their spirit
must feel as they stumble so
thankfully upon such words of
wisdom and insight
through another emotional intellect's zeal
as that light of connection glows
brighter and brighter
until they feel that dead poet
from time's past
knows the very
perimeters and maze into
their own before felt
misunderstood heart
that is the gift,
reason,
purpose and
calling
I believe of
'The Under Honored Poet'
they witness like many in this world
the great magnitude of pain
and suffering and humiliation
of the masses
but they, for their reason in being
reflect back mostly joy's harmony
and simple pleasure's unique ability
to unite
alike spirits
even from far across the infinite gorges,
valleys and monuments afforded
to man by time........................
(April 13, 2011 848pm)
Thank you
Thank you...even though I still differ with your views.
Muhammad Naveed Ahmed.
Pen name:Emmenay.
Yahoo email ID:Ambitious7
Initials: M.N. Ahmed.