Ihsan Musthafa Poems

Round and round this circle of merry go round'
Burn and burn to ashes of self made desolation
Scratching the melancholy buried under thy ground
Closed thy hand filled with exasperation
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The wails of the working class
Class of the indoctrinated sisyphean
Sisyphean doctrines of the suffering society
Society made for the rich and the alien
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Kissed by the wind of the northern cheeks
A path ridden with riddles for all to seek
Juggling your sorrows and joy on a burdened shoulder
In a moving train full of unknown passengers just like you and me
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There came angels and dreams
As a child innocent from worldly pollution
A time when the mind retained free of constipation
Nevertheless the meridian of these words
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Elevate, soared muscle and bone high towards the moon
Deviate, from the systematic enslavement to the system
Congregate, towards the mystical garden in bloom
Communicate, the closed eye as it opens the hidden wisdom
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Pacified electronic gadgetronic puppet
Crippled duplex stupefied social slave
Funny canny ultra-violet touch not allergic fool
Alas! Me too? bamboozled hornswoggled pointing finger
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Rain came and swept the land green
Never did I find a reason to condescend thee
One is all, which is all that matters only
Never would I want to drown in quandary
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Cloudy gloomy dipping moody mostly lonely
Where could the silver lining be hiding so shrewdly
But I fear not
though I also hear not
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