A place where tall buildings overshadow narrow streets and bright lights reflect off crystallized buildings to dazzle our humanity, a place bright enough to shine over our barefaced rulers and business men who take pride on their paper, the paper they have cheated so hard to earn.
Liars and thieves are respected and innocence has no value. It was not always this way, I remember the same barefaced people stroking my hair as they walked by. They would smile and laugh at others happiness…And now they believe no one cares for their humanity, no one cares.
Where did we fail? When did innocence run out? When did our most dishonored become our champions? When will we learn?
I hope it is not too late.
Archive for the 'Creative Writing' Category
Where am I from?
A little Irregular (Poem)
Calling me at home
The life that you want to live
And as the story goes
We are growing dead and cold
Id like to say I do
But ill never ever love you
You hold me in your arms
But I don’t feel the same
Id like to take the blame
But its not all on me
Stop driving me insane
With your feelings of love
I think the only way
Is to run far away from me
But I don’t really care
Cause I am weak
You try so hard not to lose your faith
You find yourself on a crossroad
Where everything is in conflict in your head
And you know you cant go on like this
When the sun comes out you don’t feel alive
And the people that walk around are faceless
No one really cares where your coming from
Another life that’s lost…Another life that’s lost…
from Jordan to Daisy.

Say goodbye to Jane
Say goodbye to Jane,
She will never ever come again,
Say goodbye to Jane,
I don’t know why she lost her way.
She came and went like the whisper that is never heard…You would hope things were different but that day of silence will never be heard. When it is around you have nothing to say but as soon as it is gone you think of that day.
Say goodbye to Jane,
She will never ever come again,
Say goodbye to Jane,
I don’t know why she lost her way.
Like a short story that leaves a mark but you cannot read it from the start. Like a fruit that tastes so sweet you wished you would find another. Like those moments of your childhood that are stuck in your head. Like a grape that is bitter and sweet.
Say goodbye to Jane,
She will never ever come again,
Say goodbye to Jane,
I don’t know why she lost her way.
Like the last breath before you take the long sleep. I will remember her.
I still love you.
The skies seem grey
And colors lost without your eyes.
The worlds my stage
But nothing without your lights
Love is no game
But something tells me deep inside
There is a chance
You will be mine
And I still…love you baby…
And I want to hide behind your smile.
And I still…love you baby…
Won’t you give me a try?
I saw a girl sitting in a train
Who had blue eyes…
She looked at me and I could see
The dimples as she smiled
I looked outside and I could see
A house by a tree
The red roof it had and the children played
In the shade of green
…..and I said…
And I still…love you baby…
And I want to hide behind your smile.
And I still…love you baby…
Won’t you give me a try?
How does it feel?
How does it feel to be stoned when the early morning light shines upon your face….feelings that are relived in the memories set in your mind…hoping to change them just for a second so that you might have done something you wanted…something you want to do even now
So that I may have kissed her before she left….kissed her I have but only in my thoughts….
The moments I treasure that have not yet come to pass…
But every time I get close she disappears into the mist…and the wind rushes her hair across my face as her image fades from my stare….Ohh!! How I wish she was back
As we sit in the train and light comes in from the window shining upon her face….and she smiles…and her eyes glow up like beacons in the night….and the grass grows green filled with children who sing…where has my merry one gone
and I twist and turn but nothing I’ve learned as I slumber without her warmth….and I ask myself when day comes night…How does it feel to be stoned in the early morning light?
Roads Lyrics
Portishead
Oh, can’t anybody see,
We’ve got a war to fight,
Never found our way,
Regardless of what they say.
How can it feel, this wrong,
From this moment,
How can it feel, this wrong.
Storm,
In the morning light,
I feel,
No more can I say,
Frozen to myself.
I got nobody on my side,
And surely that ain’t right,
Surely that ain’t right.
Oh, can’t anybody see,
We’ve got a war to fight,
Never found our way,
Regardless of what they say.
How can it feel, this wrong,
From this moment,
How can it feel, this wrong.
How can it feel this wrong,
From this moment,
How can it feel, this wrong.
Oh, can’t anybody see,
We’ve got a war to fight,
Never found our way,
Regardless of what they say.
How can it feel, this wrong,
From this moment,
How can it feel, this wrong.
Flames of desire (Art Work)
Love (Writing)
Another day I wake up as the sunlight hits my face only to crawl to the bottle of spirit by my bed. I swallow so quickly as my body stumbles to breath as the cold liquor flows down my chin onto the floor. I see the sunlight now through the tears in my eyes. Tears my body has cried to contain the memories of her soft voice. I call out to her gently but hear no reply. The songs that were playing in my head over and over again calling for her and only her, bringing back her memories and thoughts to me.
What happens when you cannot tell dream from reality, when you cannot say you are awake or asleep. You know you have lost your sanity when all you can think of is fading away into nothingness. Is it love that drives us to these feelings?
Love is an emotion that means so much but is not worth anything in this world. So many have cried tears for this emotion the rivers appear like a drop on your cheek. Yet the world has ripped love into shreds and left it nothing but the word. What have we done to our humanity?
What have we done to our humanity? We are so blind we can’t even see what we have done to ourselves. We have ravaged our most beloved emotion into nothing but a word. The stories of the lovers are now just fairy tales that amuse us but fail to inspire.
“Oh!!! Shame” they say.
“Shame” say the lovers to us as they watch from beyond the heavens.
They say “Shame on those who have left our legacy to amusement”.
They say “Shame on those who have turned us into stories”.
They say “Stories that have turned us into tales”.
One day those tales shall be no more. What have we done to love?
People live long lives and one day die. Where would you like to be buried. I have heard that the souls live on inside the grave. There grows life around your resting place. Imagine a soul so cruel life only seems to cease around them. The grave so corrupt it kills everything that it consumes.
Imagine a world where life was different. Where bad was good and good was bad. A soul so deserved to live around life consumes it for all the good it has done. Life gone and forgotten as the place around our graves would become uninhabited.
Embrace what life brings because when the end comes you need to be sure that you are remembered in peoples hearts as a good man and live immortal in the hearts of all. Immortality not by living forever but by being remembered by all other souls.
…And so I bring to you My Grave by the muddy bank.

By The Edge (Photography)
Standing by the edge. You feel like taking the leap into the cold dead waters that you see. Just a few steps more and you would cure yourself of life. Just a few steps more and all that you cared for surrenders to execution.

But have you thought of the ones who care about you…
Ghost With A Guitar (Art Work)
Time passes by
The day went by swiftly. I did not notice what has slipped away. Like a gentle kiss that you feel before you lover leaves to be on her way. Little things that slip away into the sea. A day went by like a moment of quiet when you close your eyes and stop your thoughts. Gently slipping into a slumber of quiet and dark.
This time shall not come by again. Slowly slipping into the darkness of my mind now. I slowly slumber waiting for the end of time. Time passes by…
Disappear
We sat quiet for a while not talking to each other. Watching the wind blow the leaves away into the frost winter snow. Things were as white as the first rays of sunlight that brought me warmth in the morning. I looked at her quietly and smiled. She did the same as I closed my eyes and thought of somewhere to go.
We stood there by the beach now. Walking sands as bright as gold as cold salt water rushed between our feet. I held her hand and we walked by the shore watching the sea turn to sky in a distance. The boats floating by and the clouds as steady as rock on the table. The sunlight making our worlds brighten with its quiet laughter. I opened my eyes again.
I saw her disappearing into the snowy mist of this cold winter morning. My lips move slowly calling her name but she was too far away to hear.
Whisper
Life is so fragile. So simple to break and mend. Like a whisper of possibilities.
Possibilities that come and go that are just a small chance that something might happen. A chance so small that a simple whisper can drown it into a chasm or build it into a mountain. A possibility of hope that might one day save the world from burning itself to nothingness.
…And yet that whisper is so silent it cant be heard.
Battle.
I hold my thoughts at bay laying in my bed. Just because it is a battle to get out of it. My thoughts are rushing now and the second hand ticks like an hour. I try and get away of all this world has to give me and find comfort in a few friends. Of which some are those who I have never met. I battle with myself everyday getting out of bed. I twist and turn to find peace and yet I cannot. I cant gather myself up and eat something so I keep battling myself to get out of bed. My hands shiver for no reason and my eyes are numb though it is not the season.
Is the Earth not glorious enough?
I just have this conversation in my head…Why is it a battle for me to get out of bed?
Imagination
We closed our eyes and got closer. Gently taking ourselves in warm embrace. Her lips brushed against mine and our eyes close slowly. Our minds leaving behind everything in this world and our hearts only thinking pure.
I wait for her sweet kiss but it does not come. I wait but she does not say anything to me. Then my mind flies off wondering and dreaming of all the wrongs that could have happened. Wondering why she could not want it as much as me.
So I opened my eyes and she was still there smiling back at me. I asked her why she did not kiss my ever so sweet.
Did she not want to?
She said she did…So I asked er why I could not feel her soft tender kiss……Why I could no feel her soft tender kiss….Why….
In my moment nothing but despair
You close your eyes and your life just flickers
Holding to your moments tighter
You hold my hand and walk through troubles
Holding in you nothing but despair
Solid moments all but sicker
Drowning moments nothing but despair
Sinking deeper getting sicker
All these moments nothing but despair
The shallow moments make sick
The drowning moments make me think
To show my feelings or hollow tears
Holding in me nothing but despair
The silence in your head echoes
It makes you think of troubled mirrors
You swallow torment just so ether
Holding in you nothing but despair
In my moment nothing but despair
By Muhammad Shoaib Ali.
This is the poem version of Despair (Song Version). (If you click it it will link you off to the song version of Despair).
Leap into the sea.
I close my eyes and look to the sky
Letting the sun shine on my face
The warmth of it all in sweet embrace
You hold my hand and let me whisper words
Of quiet and tender loving hurt
As I leap into the blues of earth
The cold rushes in to shadow my birth
So I jumped into the clear blue sky on earth and the water consumed my warmth. As I breathe in the cold my lungs suffer to smell the air. All my life is taken into consideration as it flashes in my mind till my heart stops and soon I shall suffer not.
By Muhammad Shoaib Ali.
I am the happy ending…
I am the happy ending
as my life breathes out
the love I once knew
I have left and gone without
I am the happy ending
as my hand grows lifeless
the memories have gone
and the light is now soundless
I am the happy ending
of a few promises
that let me live free
but now they have ended
By Muhammad Shoaib Ali
This was my poetry post at a poetry competition there were other really great poems there but I thought I would do something totally different
.
They gave us a first line “I am the happy ending” and we build from there not more than 10 lines
…Unfortunately I had 12 lines to write and had more but I thought 12 were enough.
You guys can put down your “I am the happy ending” poem on the comments
.
May the wind carry us through.
So I asked her…
Will you let the wind blow through your hair?
…so that I may step outside and try to feel you through the wind and these distances shall be overcome…when countries break borders and let us in and the sky and earth shall become kin.
…And she said
your words are beautiful
…And I said
the beautiful brunette that hides behind a picture.
My words are inspiration and without inspiration I am nothing.
You are the one who inspires me…
…And she said
you are quite the poet
…And I said
you are quiet an inspiration
So she became my poetry…my inspiration…as her beauty slowly flowed into my words.














