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Reza Khan
05-19-2005, 01:04 AM
Well, I'm a bit of a poet, I guess. People have said that I'm any where from 'pretty good' to 'absolutely fantastic,' but I'll let you be the judge of that for yourselves.

Anticipations

Hatred provides the differentiations between the anticipations in my soul. These anticipations have clung to my subconscious with the intent to break me apart.

These anticipations are holding me together.

I am pulled both outward and inward by the hatred in the deepest portion of my being. This hatred is annihilation, my strength, my despair.

And it is breaking me.

It may aid in the differentiation that flows from my shattered spirit, but it breaks me apart in way that I never imagined.

I am alone in my subconscious as it caresses my soul so gently, so tenderly, but it is only deceiving. I sense that there is hesitation, but why? Why would something so strong, so independent, feel the urge to fall away from the intense pursuit that it has so eagerly chosen?

A wise man might say that it wanted to give up, that the pursuit the anticipation had engaged in was becoming too hard. But the smarter man would say that the hesitation in the anticipation is due to a longing for perfection in the silence.

The silence of a shattered world. The silence of two hearts beating together. The silence of hatred.

And the silence breaks me in two.

Even though I feel the deepest longing to show up the anticipation, I can’t. And that breaks me. My soul is full of the deepest desires to differentiate on my own, away from these horrible anticipations that pull me apart.

This is how I discovered hatred. This is when I broke. This is when I became me.

And this is perfection.

Elizabeth

Marguerite
05-21-2005, 03:29 AM
Wow. Very deep. I would have to go with "absolutely fantastic." ^_^ Will you post more?

~Marguerite~

cinty
05-21-2005, 10:28 AM
What a lovely piece of work! It's got so much meaning and feeling to it. Very good work indeed. No wonder people tell you that you are such a good poet, they are indeed right. Please post more, I can't wait to read more!

Always_Erik_Fan
05-22-2005, 12:30 AM
WOW. That flowed so well; 'twas truly beautiful! Brava! Hope to see a lot more of your work VERY soon! Stupenda!!!

Reza Khan
05-25-2005, 01:02 AM
Oh, I feel all special now. Thanks for the kind words, everyone. I suppose I can dig up another to share...

Search


I've gone to find myself
The time of my return is unknown to me even now
A juxtaposed mastery of processions
And failures
My heart on a platter
And my mind on my sleeve with you
Broken conglomerate of thoughts
Prose written in soft black lead

I've lost myself again
I've found my mind again

A page of thoughts
Lost in a collection of rose petals and sawdust
With my hands sifting

You're not back yet

I haven't decided if I want to show my face
Amongst the lovers
And haters
The silence of the moment which I hate
Yet I'm caught in
A cache of motionless plagues

I'm still not here
Though I hope to return someday

Elizabeth

syioandthephantom
06-16-2005, 06:58 PM
Ahhh...I like! Post more!

Marguerite
06-23-2005, 04:14 AM
*squeals ecstatically* You are so awesome!!! Must...read...more...Seriously, you write so beautifully. Very artistically and cleverly woven.

**aspires to write as well as you one day**

~Marguerite~

Reza Khan
06-26-2005, 04:10 AM
Hmm, I suppose I can supply some more. I'm really glad that you like them!

To Be Here

If I was to call out for you when you were sleeping
Would you hear me or keep dreaming on?
Those black and white photographs that cloud your subconscious
And push out on the workings of your soul

If I was to lie to you
You would weep for the memories that never were
And the days we spent together in manic distress
Would you keep the silence that seperates us so?

This is not the day that I have waited for

If I was to scream out loud to break your jagged edges
Would you crumble into a heap of nothingness?
An abyss that evades any light,
The darkness of within that haunts my every motion
Until I cry out in vain for someone to take me away
Away to a place where black is white
And the very truth that we know is sold as a lie
From a peddler's cart on the street corner

If I was to push you with everything I'm in possession of
Would you fall and perish into oblivion
Or lose all pride in how you rule your life?

If I was to be here
If I was to exist here with only myself to blame
Until I can no longer live with the world I am a part of.

Elizabeth