Tuesday, 25 March 2014

I Wander

I Wander
Seeking out your name
I wonder
If we will ever meet again

I surrender
To your eternal flame
I hinder
At the thought of your game

I Wander
Through rainy streets
I wonder
If you are still a sight to believe

I wonder
If you are still alive
I Wander
Till the moment I die...

Pleading Guilty

It was just so desirable
So desirable
My heart wore
An emblem so heartlessly satirical

Walked through streets cold and dark
Yet passion could not
Spare a spark
And in your web of lies I got caught

Still I want you
To want me

There is no sin
Nothing worse could happen
When you are Pleading Guilty to love
An indictment will never be enough

There is no excuse
No way the words could be misused
When I am Pleading Guilty to love
A conviction will never be enough

You were just so admirable
So admirable
My palm wore
The logo of your name so secular

Transfer me to the prison of love
And kiss me before I depart
I have no idea of what I deserve
Afterwards I might burn away the allure from your heart

Still I need you
To need me...

Sunday, 23 March 2014

An Unknown Hero

A teardrop falls on the letter
Stains the familiar handwriting- lovely and slender
Of his wife, oh, how he had missed her
Telling him the good news, the birth of their daughter
Someone places a comforting hand on his shoulder
It was his dear comrade; like him an army soldier
Who knew that his friend's tears were not of happiness
But rather, he was drowning in sadness
Like they would tomorrow, in blood
Never to return.
He leaves the grieving man by the camp fire
Who was ruing how he had left the heavenly life behind
He would have been so happy
Together with his family
But war had snatched that away
What good had it done anyways?
Aching for his wife and daughter- who he would never see again
He gets up in despair
And alongside his sleeping squad, lays down
Who were strewn like corpses on the ground.
He closes his eyes, his body writhing as he fights the nightmares
Incomparable to the bloodshed he would soon face.

The world around him was slowly destroyed
As blood and earth rained
The shrieks of horror, as brutal as the deaths itself
The war, the closest thing to hell.
A mortar blast at their squad
Sends him tumbling to the ground.
With terrible ringing in his ears, he painfully sits up
And sees a steady stream of blood gushing in the mud
Coming from a grotesque, gaping hole
Where a soldier's leg had been before...
As the ringing subsides
He hears the soldier's piercing, agonizing cries
Alongside his brother's screams, who desperately tries to help
His tears flowing like the blood itself
Holding him against his heart
Like a baby in its mother's arms
But his efforts were hopeless
His brother was now forever silenced...
He had had enough
This life had given him nothing but pain and hurt.
Without thinking or regret
He places a pistol on the side of his head
And in that brief moment, his reddened eyes meet those of the sitting soldier
And glares at him as if he's some monster
Criticizing him for mercilessly killing others
For being part of the death and gore
For being a slave of the government who for no reason at all
Were foolishly waging this war
Before he pulls the trigger
And his lifeless body falls onto his dead brother
The sound echoing in the dazed soldier's head
As he falls down unconscious, everything black.

He wakes up as cold water stings his face
In a dark room, tied to a chair
From a lamp, blinding light
Was piercing his eyes
He was in the bunker they were tasked to bomb
But, apparently, they had lost the war.
A firm punch to the face
Sends blood spattering down, his head throbbing with pain
From a disgusting chubby man
Sneering at him from under his mustache
Who shouts out angry questions
But he stays strong against the demanding words.
After a painful beating, the soldier still wouldn't answer
And, frustrated, a gun is aimed at him by his interrogator
The gun glaring at him, at his forehead
He closes his eyes, welcoming death
And hears the sound of the fired bullet
Silence... was he dead?
He opens his eyes
His friend from the campfire smiling at him, behind him a dreamy light
Was he really in heaven?
And then he spots the interrogator on the floor, dead
He feels his comrade cutting the ropes with a knife
And hears muffled sounds of battle outside
Escaped hostages, the last of the resistance
Who would be wiped out soon, in an instant.
Suddenly, the dead interrogator sits up
In his shaking hand, a gun
On his face, an evil smile
Wild ferocity in his eyes
With all the life he has left
Before he falls dead
He pulls the trigger, the bullet roars past
And penetrates deep into his friend's heart
His startled cry
Sends shivers down his spine
Who drops down, the heavy thud
Shatters his already damaged world
He bursts free from the ropes with inhuman strength
And rushes towards his dying friend.

''Think of all the women we would impress
The medals we would get
We'd be feared by our enemy
And welcomed back as heroes of the country!''

There was nothing better in the world
For the little boy than to watch the lake change colour
Black.. orange... yellow... blue
And along with the birds that flew
Above the horizon, in the distance
It would brighten his hard life in an instant
And he had the whole place to himself.
Mesmerised by the beautiful sounds of the forest
He steps inside
The warm, soothing water and closes his eyes
Gently drifting away with the breeze
Humming a song, daydreaming peacefully
But the little boy did not know how to swim
And before he realized the trouble he was in
He begins to drown
His arms thrashing wildly, screaming out loud
But it was no use
By the lake, he was consumed
And as he breathes his last breath, he feels his soul depart
Torn away from his body by an angel's arms.
When he looks into the angel's eyes
It smiles
But it wasn't an angel, it was a boy just like him
And when he stares at his wet skin that glistened
The sand between his fingers
He knew he was his saviour.
The boy offers him a hand saying, ''Are you okay?''
He holds it and smiles as they walk away.

He stares into his lifeless eyes
Ruing how he couldn't repay him for saving his life.
He spots on his dead comrade's back
The bomb inside a bag
There was little time left
The hostages outside would soon be dead.
He sets the bomb to detonate
His damaged soul would soon be out of here.
He sits beside his fallen friend
Takes out the letter from deep inside his pocket
And reads it for the last time
The final remembrance of his wife
With his blood-stained hands he traces a heart
Before he's reduced to ashes in the blast
Deep in the land of the country that is now free
Where war is merely a memory
But one thing still remains
What was his name? ...

Wednesday, 19 March 2014

Thank You!

This post is dedicated to all our readers, and friends. Yesterday Poetics101 reached a massive 1000 pageviews!

Without the help of you all, our faithful readers, we would not have been blessed with such newly-found popularity.

No matter where you found out about the blog: Ask.fm, Facebook, Twitter, etc. We give our acknowledgement to everybody.

Also, recognition to all those who have commented, whether anonymously or non-anonymously.

Additional gratitude goes to Samie Khan and Hamza Danish. Without their friendship, and advertising back-up, Abdullah and I could not have achieved such greatness.

Remember that we are just writers. Only with readership support can we go the distance, and turn our official publication dreams to a reality.

Bless all of you - and most of all - Thank You!

Wednesday, 12 March 2014

The Cold-Blooded Killer

A glob of spit lands at the side of his overturned hat
And the beggar looks up to see a grinning man
It was the landlord, unfair and cruel
Clad in a black, expensive suit
Standing over him as if he was a pompous god
Who walks away haughtily with his bodyguards.
The beggar rises from the shadows
Walks towards a shriveled, suffering, old man leaning in the snow
Fishes out the coins he had collected from his hat
And places it into the old man's frostbitten hand
A grateful smile forming on his wrinkled, miserable face.
The beggar pulls out a sharp blade
Which glints intimidatingly in the moonlight
Hungering for the blood of the landlord in sight.
He begins to tail the man through the crowd
Stalking him like a bloodthirsty hound
For he was no beggar
He was The Cold-Blooded Killer.

The poor young boy sells fishes in the corner
Scars cover his innocent face, from the beatings of the father
Who had cast him out yelling gruffly
To earn money for the family
He hadn't slept; the whole day spent relentlessly fishing.
With arms and hands aching
And with puffy, reddened eyes he is slowly counting
The few coins he's managed to earn
But suddenly, someone snatches his purse
And the timid boy is slapped firmly
By the landlord, who sneers at him wickedly.
He watches helplessly as the bodyguards
Destroy all his precious hard work, and they depart.
The boy stares blankly at the ground
Longing dearly to be thrust deep down
But no, he could not face his father
His timid heart unable to bear anymore torture.
The killer watches as the boy faints
His grip tightening on his blade
And like a determined hunter
Follows- The Cold-Blooded Killer.

The graceful, captivating maiden buys a rose from the flower seller
And places it into the hair of her adorable younger sister
Who rushes forward and hugs her warmly
In return, her soft, delicate cheeks are kissed gently.
But their embrace is cut short
The maiden is pulled roughly by the landlord
And her sister falls heavily to the ground
The rose slipping out of her hair and falling down.
The vicious man treats the innocent maiden foully
Who desperately tries to shake free
Her little sister crying shrilly also tries to help
But her timid efforts have no effect on the wretch.
The landlord puckers his nasty lips
And kisses the maiden disgustingly against her will
Flungs her after he's done- as if she's garbage- into the snow
Before he walks away, trampling on the rose...
The maiden covers her face in humiliation and agony
Whimpers softly as she weeps hurtfully
Her little sister tries to comfort and soothe
The pain, but even her sweet, lovable voice could not heal her wounds.
An ice-cold gust of air blows
Across him as he watches the crying maiden, kneeling in the snow
The blade shaking in his hand with anger
Enough was enough, for The Cold-Blooded Killer.

Like a ravenous cougar climbing a tree
He swiftly climbs the pipe; freezing and slippery
Of the landlord's mansion
Ancient, deathly black and dull.
He stops dead as he hears dreadful shrieks of a man
Looking through a window, he sees a tied man being whipped on the back
A man who had probably not paid his debts
And not far from being dead
The ground splattered with blood
His cries for help unheard
But this was all about to end soon.
He continues forward until he reaches the window of the landlord's room
Who rests in his crimson armchair; exhausted and tired
And drinks blood-red wine in front of a burning fire
Playing with a doll, a small toddler
Who sits at the feet of her father.
She pulls at his leg wanting him to play
Annoyed, he snatches the doll and shoves her away
The toddler begins to wail loudly
At which point, the killer sneaks in softly
Stealthily walks towards his target, holding out his blade
The flames of the fire dancing on its lustrous surface.
He taps the landlord's shoulder
Who turns around, his heart leaps at the sight of the killer
And during the split-second meeting of their eyes
He feels regret for the first time in his life
The fear of all his victims burn fiercely in his heart
Before the killer slits his throat...
He gurgles sickly, grabs his neck
Searching desperately for something that would save him from death
Until his head falls to his shoulder
His lifeless eyes looking deep into the fire
Never more would he cause pain.
Wiping blood from his cherished blade
He grabs the doll from the dead father
And hands it to the cute, little toddler
Who smiles at this heroic stranger
Who had saved her from the wickedness of her father.
The killer squeezes the child's cheek lightly
Who was hugging her doll dearly
And when she looks up at the stranger
He was gone- The 'Cold-Blooded' Killer...

Sunday, 9 March 2014


Saddened, Saddened by the lies
Saddened, Saddened by the alibis
Saddened, Saddened by the cries
Could my eyes get any wetter?

The flow of my dreams
Emitted in multiple streams
No wonder I do not know what reality really means
For hopeless romance I am a trendsetter

Still nobody knows about
You and me
And about
Our untold love story

Yet nobody knows about
You and me
And about
Our bold love story

Half-asleep, half-awake
How many pills did you take?
How many emotions did you fake?
That even God has forsaken you

Broken, broken hearts
Into tiny, tiny parts
A qualm never to be justified by words
Even passion failed to awaken you

Still nobody knows about
You and me
And about
Our untold love story

Yet nobody knows about
You and me
And about
Our bold love story...

Tuesday, 4 March 2014

Looking Out The Window

I look out the window of my gloomy room
At the kids playing in the late afternoon
'Rowdy' and 'Hooligans', my parents would say
And would order me to stay away
I watch as they play a game of football
By the beautiful sport I'm enthralled
I had always wanted to be a footballer
But my dreams are confined to the football jersey I currently wear
Since my parents felt it was a waste, to my dismay.
They stop as a car parks in a neighbouring driveway
And out steps an elderly man
Who attempts to carry his heavy bags with his feeble hands
The kids- including the small toddler watching from the side- rush to help him
And on his aged face forms a wrinkled grin
After they finish, he offers them some money seeing as they worked so much
But they only thank him for his offer leaving me and the old man touched
For the first time, I begin to doubt my parents words
The 'hooligans' were out there, changing the world
Doing what I had been told to do my whole life
Yet to a world of study I was confined inside.

A sparrow lands on the window sill
Free to move about according to her will
Fluffs up her dazzling, brown feathers
Chirps happily, proudly showing her colours
Turns around and stares at me as if I'm some strange
Animal living in a cage
For a moment, I see a look of pity in her beady-eyes
Before she flies towards the oak tree rising high into the sky
And lands on a branch alongside her fellow sparrows
Who chirp away, never having to worry about tomorrow
I watch enviously as they fly away
Into the vast world; to me an unknown place
Until the setting sun eats them up
But wait, why does the tree partly cover the sun?
And I realize how I hadn't looked at it for a long time
The sun behind making it shine
Leaving me awestruck as the sight of this mighty tree
But not for long, for its time for me to study...