A Chat Between Heart And Mind - Poem by Sadaf Masoodi
In the chaos of black days,
And stillness of bright nights,
Heart divided its tale,
And mind countered a validation,
About a dream shared this night,
Sailing in the same whim afterwards then…
When the reduced lump said;
Tonight let us share my share of ache,
This canister I unpack every night,
to sleep with the aroma of a fancied wound,
being worshiped in veil,
more than my breath,
the wound, of infinity.
I too rise in trance every moaning morning.
My senses keep howling in the gorges,
where I yearned to rescue a stance,
a dream of my being protected in a name,
then my senses fly to a distant sky,
the sky keeps scattering every time in me,
like that winter dawn, when soundness started disappearing in me,
for an escape only,
then my senses hit back to the land of turmoil,
and to the land of reality,
where no perpetuality of cacoethes ever existed.
Where spring had escaped as a season,
Where I would giggle myself,
for my death-of-reason
And in my eclipsed eyes I couldn't blind the vision,
of a dream,
of my being...
Ask this time, to hoot on me,
And my rationale-prisoner,
My nerves of thought are brought to a halt…
Call them lively at the mercy of a shallow face,
portrayed by my veins agitated,
then illusions of the words idolised,
following each pulse,
flowing poison in each volume of my sluggish blood,
a dream still,
a dream of my being,
a dream to escape,
through this static arrow,
somewhere in my torso, glorifying folly!
Hearing this tale in pale gone dusk,
the upset mind from some curve managed a validation,
injecting elucidation to the emaciated brawn;
dreams birthed in misfortune
decease in silence, with eyes ever shut,
for the rise of a colorful sun,
they never live to see any yield, any horizon!
Yes the situations and skulls-of-time,
make these emotions fly by night.
Lethals' hunt just for leisure,
for your failing becomes their treasure,
longings long for needs, long for fun,
your eyes might be fixed,
their function nature gave as 'many-one',
many wantings, many wantings and lone their being for a transitory reason…
They take no time to turn,
Why you provoke ruins for my burn?
Unfollow this dream, give upon this wish,
For you will succumb to their tool-of-art,
taking no time to change slut in a star fish.
And the time was untarnished then,
when the war had surfaced,
my dear heart, hearts like you have already gone,
fleeting intresting interests never end,
and their show must go on……
Then in the august autumn, heart shook hands with mind,
To see no worthiness in an option,
In their *liberal* nation,
with my fundamentalism I packed up in pride,
back to a hibernation.
Then a news flew in air,
no fool was left for dissection,
on sale in the intellectual fare,
then the conjurers hatched again a game,
to trap the most diseased by name.
Topic(s) of this poem: agony, chaos, deceit, heart, heartache, love, mind
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