Thursday, January 21, 2010

Check Mate


Check Mate

He was the king , She was his queen
They entered the battlefield
A million Soldiers did bleed ,
Their love was strong
Their love sacred
Someone eyed it with much hatred

He was a knight , He was brave
A million girls for him slayed their fate
He had a mission , he had a purpose
He wanted the queen to be his own

Foolishly he fell , he fell in her love
But he carefully played all his steps right
Castles stood , horses neighed
All the young souls knew their tale

The king was summoned , The king alert
The vazirs spoke of a possible outburst
The knight and the king stood face to face
The king had love , the Knight had lust
Both dreamt of a single crush

The player he was, the player within
He somehow got her to his side
The king was captivated and killed
As her love had died for him

The knight and queen both cuddled with glee
The game was over , Check mate revealed .

Fatema

Wednesday, January 20, 2010

Burned Grace


The beat of the clock going tic toc ,
The rthyme it caught , the rthyme it caught
The train picked a steady speed
It choggled and boggled with the passengers screams


And then they came , caught up with the train
The woman of power , the woman of grace
Skillfully attacking the human race ,
The first woman apperas, she seemed angered
She seemed enraged , I could see the burden even after
She emptied the cage ,
I fell she knew her work really well,
She wasnt the type who'd kneel down
And scamper to death ,
I could see her fighting spirit burning in red
She screamt to be heard , She fought for the dirt ,
She seemed unbelievingly the queen of the herd


Then in that crowed train of ours
The second appears ,her face pale ,
her body was frail , Still she carried burden
at hercules pace
She wavered here , she wavered there
She got her work done anyway

With emense strenght and beautiful pride
These women od dignity , never dared to cry
But on that day I saw them kneel
When the day was over , their thoughts appealed

That women of strenght , that woman of grace
Lied down right in the middle of the train
I felt she deserved the teaming nap
As her day had gone extremely crap
She slept for an hour
And then she awoke
As her fellow mates laughed out aloud
They wernt accoustmed to such fragie dismount
At the end of the day , they were back to the same
two ordinary women talking about the human race


Fatema


Little Lillie


Little Lillie in her own little world,
saw little things literally swirl,
She loved her chocolate , She loved it too much ,
Soo whatever she saw had a chocolatey touch ,


At school she dreamt , She dreamt alot
About the blackboard turning into a chocolate pot
That chocolate pot , that chocolate pot
filled with delicously mouth watering chocolates and what not
The alphabets her teacher wrote dangled here and dangled there
And happily fell into that big boiling chocolate pot
In that tantalazing aroma filled air ,
Little Lillie dreamt away
And then from somewhere outside that magical world ,
there came a voice
"Lillie what are you doing what is this all about ??
Stop dreaming and sit up straight or you're going out ."


Poor Little Lillie lost in her own little world
Filled to the brim in her chocolatey world
gulped down her teachers harsh little words

At the playground , Little Lillie in her own little world
Dances around with her group of friends
And they decide to em up nad play
The two teams are set and ready to go ,
they are all ready to paly the dog and the bone

But Little Lillie lost in her own little world
starts to see chocolates run around and swirl
She hums along and hums it well
" All around the mulbery bush
The kitkat chased the chocobar ,
the kitkat thought t'was all for fun
Pop goes the chocobar"

Enjoying her dream she stood there
She couldn't see her friends ' angered glares
All she did her were their angry voices
"Lillie ,what are you doing , what is this all about ?
You are on our team and you're letting us down !"

Poor Little Lillie lost in her own little world,
jolted back to the real world
She said to herself and she said it well
"I've got to break out from this chocolatey spell
All its doing is making me dream
happy thoughts happy thoughts
But in the end ,what all i get
Is niether worth mention ,neither worth recommend


fatema

Saturday, March 21, 2009

Sounds




Sounds and sounds is all I hear
Just mere sounds they appear
What do they mean??
What are they for??
Do they signify a soul??





Sounds that jingle
Ripple and tingle
Sounds is all I hear
I look around for a human being
But all I hear is a mumble



Far away ,I hear a sound
The sound of crying
A weeping soul
And the sound of a million tears
Drop by drop
The beat that hops
Silence is what it shatters......

I was lost in another world




Suddenly in this maze of sounds
A body reappears
It brings with it a flash of light
Breaking me from my trancing plight


He questions me in a serious tone
"Would you like to see the deeds you've done ?




Flashing past my eyes aghast
Are series of visions flowing by
Each lie I spoke
Each heart I broke
Seemed to play alive
The plots I made
The games I played
The way I set my self ablaze
All of it reappeared





Then slowing I started breathing again
The pain unbearable seized to stop
The burning flesh ,The crackling sounds
The smell that spread its ugly head
Was pungent all the more
Each burning flame had engulfed me
In a chamber so small
It ripped the skin and charged thoroughly in
I begged it to stop





The burning flame seemed alive
It had a revenge in its mind
It slowly crawled all over me
I could feel the raw skin burning still
And all my tears vanishing to steam
Layers and layers of ash now covered me





The fire danced in a joyous mood
It carefully enjoyed the matter it burnt
It seemed to find some beaming pride
Some viscous life it had inside
Some cunning crime it tried to hide
Swirling up and down by my side




The heat it formed
Was hot as burning coal
With the steeping rise in the temperature
I cried .........





All this while I cursed my suicidal self
Was this the reason I enjoyed the thought of death??
The thought of being free from my grief's net?




No this was grief its self,
feasting on its voluntary visitor's death





fatema




Sunday, January 25, 2009

Little Shortie


Little shortie will act all peppy in a weird kinda way
She' ll say "hey wassup" only a million times a day !! -_-
Little shortie will always feel the itch to say
"That stupid bitch " EVERY single day
Little shortie tries to be a bit funny
And she ends up giving A monologue
on something like bill gates money !!
Little shortie will laugh her heart out
At jokes as lame as"An ant takes a beatle out" :
You'll never guess what goes inside her little head
When we speak of sumthing of high intellect
Little shortie is good at heart
But her expressions are worlds apart
Shell appreciate u in a different kinda way
She'll say "Bitch!! u'r really good that way"
Little shortie will never pick up her phone
for reasons unknown
Is it the workload?????
Or is she hiding from pest control??
We 'll just never know
At the end of the day she'll sit beside you and say
"Its ok , I know u really never meant it anyway" :P
fatema

The untamed rage



Building in,
spreading out
Viscous flames running around
Inner voice vaguely heard
Trampled ,scuffled buried gut
Heavy breaths
Choking beats
Raging red, the face unveils
Ferrocious eyes
A curling smile
The untamed rage , is now alive

Confined to an empty room
Falling objects ,expect their doom
The raging fit , now in a gig
Mimic the cause of this conflict

The untamed rage in full costume ,
Storms around in continuous fumes
But,
A sudden stare into the mirror there
Jolts back the reasonable care
The wiser choice ,
the "taming scene" seems to appeal fiercely ..........
The callous reasonNow fatigued ...
The " untamed rage " as it calls itself
meek and submissive ,
comes to an end
following the age old trend
"Nothing is ever permanent "

fatema

Thursday, January 22, 2009

Breaking a Monotonous life


Slowly, Steadily picking up
The pace increasing rhythmically
Beat by beat on a silver track
Metallic steel in contact
The long chambered mode of life,
Lazily swinging from side to side
The heavy train like a growing chain
pulling out from its cozy frame

Sitting peacefully inside,
A man diminishing in pride ...
but Hope still alive inside
His thoughts speak of a burdened life,
A square foot room......
But a spacious heart
A horrid living dream....
But no sign of a scar
Then the sturdy train though slow in pace
Gathers burdens at an alarming rate

A singular pole ,
at the corner doorgoes unnoticed , detoured
No human hanging out his head
No human risking his life on a bet
The man gets up
And slowly looks around
He wonders in disbelief .....
“How can it be??
How is it so??
Isn't there
No ruthless plunderer left,
to grab the pole? "
Then with immense courage
and a pounding heart
and a shivering knowledge of the human race ...
He grabs the post with all his might
A surge of victory in embrace
For once in his life his hopes are glorified
The sense of freedom clear in his eyes
Amidst the chaos
Amidst the noise
His clear heart,
for once dares to smile ........

Fatema

Vague Twists


Vague twists
Secure in some way,
Stability somehow ,
But a sudden curse ,
And land renounced
Debts incurred ,
Burdened purse
Credit scoops now ruptured

Streaming solutions flowing by
Quick decisions ,
The call of time
One fall in that prestigious stream
Had dug a grave for eternity
She was just another victim
Like the million crushed souls
who abandoned their inner voice
And blindly followed
All the stories told

The stories she heard,
were centuries old
they screamed :
"There was a man he had a dream
to be famous with a doctor 's degree......
he murdered ,plundered ,
trampled the soul
who ever dared to stand in his way.....

Carelessly he harmed .....
so that HE could stand tall
Conquer Be envied by all"
his followers sung praises et all
Amazed , perplexed
she followed too
got a degree in her name, as seconds flew
but nevertheless she crumbled too
her inner voice she never heard
it screams out :"Peace, Art is your rebirth"

The fallen doctor though creative and wise
Now chose to nurture her creative side


Artistic vibes
Creative surge
searching for the appropriate curve

Then , A singular chance to exhibit
The various works of art she did
Everything she learned in life,
surfaced its brighter side
Her knowledge of bones
the way they worked
the forms they took ,
gave her art a second look

Her surgical hand in brief spans
carved the stones in beautiful tones
Her processing thoughts did interpret
bigger meanings in real depth
Quick math and a grasping cap
Earned her a prestigious point on the world map

At the end she realized ,
what a grave mistake she did
she let the noise of others opinions
drown her deepest whims
She cried out to her fellow mates
My success was never planned ....
"You've got to find ,
where You can manage to really stand "

fatema

Monday, August 4, 2008

Perplexed Memory



My opponent speaks :
" My Lord , My witness here has seen
Experienced the grief
The accused has no reason to plead
He has cold bloodedly murdered
The inner voice indeed !
"I defend my voice with vigor and scream
"Objection your honor !!
My opponent is misleading the jury !

Then calling my witness , I speak:
"What were you doing that abominable night ?
"My witness -The conscience speaks :
"I-I woudn't know , i was asleep
"Then my opponent ventures into my witness's weak
"You have no memory ?
No recollection ?
Of the helpless girl lying there ,
injured to bleed?
"No-no sir ,I woudn't say that ,
I certainly heard her cry for help ,
But my courage stood back
As i fought with myself

"So you heard her scream ?
And you let her be ?
Lying there helplessly ?
"My witness's frame now withering
Reduced to tears , he began to speak
" I-I would've helped
I would've saved the dying human being
But the numbness had seeped
into every bit of me
The time was ticking away
Like a time bomb at bay
In my confused state
My heart beats raced
"Then slowly he looks up and says :
" I blame myself ,I was her only help
Now the burden I shall partake "

Seeing my witness -The conscience wither and speak
I restlessly sit hoping to end the ordeal
Then a tear drips ,
without a blink
I seem to predict ,
what my opponent is here to speak
He smirks at me and meticulously speaks
" There , My Lord ,
The witness spilled out
the soul guilt the Jury seeks
The accused had definitely murdered his inner voice indeed
"Then the jury speaks :
" It is evident that the defendant's conscientiousness
has accepted the guilt
No punishment here,
As he is forgived
Acceptance is the biggest gift "

The sprawling walls of the court I see
Swirl around and hurriedly flee
I wake up from my unconscientious self
And dwell into thoughts of what befell
It seemed , forgiving myself was the hardest task ,
"These fights with my conscience will forever last "
fatema

Sunday, July 6, 2008

Someones following me .........

A hurried walk
Elevator to car
A journey I intend to embark ,
The elevator seems to spontaneously spark
And the flickering light
On and off in suprise
Causes my beats to rythme in fright

My pounding heart
Sensing impending doom
Seems to fear a faceless goon
Sticking to the door
I seem to scream
"Someone , come , save me "
Suddenly the sprawling walls
Grow into my state of trance
And shatter my fragile mask of calm
Seconds in , I clasp my eyes
And desperately I try
To hit the buttons right
The only thoughts running my mind
The fear of ....."Being crushed alive"

Slowly I hear , a faint laugh
evil intervined
His intentions clear
And my weakness held to him dear
His motive yet smeared
His intrinsic laugh , like shattered glass
piercing my aching ears

But almost like a second birth
The elevator seems to purr
Then it suddenly fits into gear
The piercing laugh , now choking in fear
stumbles into a nervous shiver
I reach my destined floor
I rush out , almost tripping in fear
The pouring rain pounding my brains
Trickles down my petrified face
Then a groaning roar ,
I turn around
And the dark , forbiding night
Stares back, like eternal fright

Its hollow , endless feel
Drills into my sight
The eerie feel of someone there
Watching every second step
The breathing breeze,
Blowing at the back of my neck
Almost convincing me
"It's a strangling threat "
I struggle to search my black mustang ,
My shivering feet threatening to collapse
Then in the faint street lamp there
I see an unknown shadow , continuously stare
The shadow , with its ugly frame
Monstrous , Im aware

His shadow brings in a gulping fear
I dare to look back and stare
into the cause of my dreaded tears
Then a ear splitting stroke of light
Midway the raining plight
I catch his sight

His scarred face , smirking
His broad frame , overshadowing
The meek me , cowering inside

A leap of beats
As I happen to see
My mustang parked neatly
Somehow the thought of escape
Livens up the silenced rebellious me
I struggle a fight
And rush aside my parked hope of light
With my stumbling keys
I attempt to start ,
The stalker not far apart
With every closing step of his
My fear crushing in
Slowly my car ,begins to start
And hurriedly I disappear into the dark ..............
But somehow something tells me
"He hasn't yet given up "........
fatema