Black - Poetry + Commentary
Monday, August 31, 2009 Read more → poetry, saqib's portfolio, saqib's ramadan, the poet, the poetical In the name of God, entirely Compassionate, especially Merciful | Peace be with you
Ramadan is going pretty well, but I really apologise about the lack of posts. I'm really in a state of laziness in terms of actually documenting my happenings in the holy month and general communication. Insha'Allah I'll shake it off when I'm ready.
For now though, let me show you one of my old pieces of poetry. This one is called Black. I'm sure you'll enjoy it, and please tell me what you think in the comments section.
Connotations spring to mind.
Recognition?
Respect?
Mere acknowledgement?
No, of course not.
Far from it.
It’s never been anything like that.
And if it was, I can’t remember it.
Blind, sightless, open canopy over mind and soul.
The heart, oddly, stays intact.
Black.
Is like radiation.
That radiation.
Masks and confuses the mind and soul.
Leaves the heart defenceless.
Mere propaganda to Black, penetrates arteries.
Floods the pipes, thoughts.
Thoughts that taste bitter, sour, expired, shameful, dishonoured.
Something far from edible, far from delectable.
The heart is immersed in this objectification.
This piece of flesh is sick. So is the whole body.
Black.
This darkness stirs me.
This feeling, desirable.
These thoughts, achievable.
Mind and body are detached. Mere limbs. Defies anatomy.
Cannot convey this unsettling of the heart.
The flesh beats in rhythm, of its own accord.
Memories flash in vision, disturbing, weakening, humiliation.
Cannot cope with this. Black alters, distorts, interprets, intrudes judgement.
Contempt, bitterness, anger, STRENGTH. A twitch is felt, a glint in the eye.
Smiling. No, leering. No, unexplainable. For the wrong reasons.
Black.
Infectious, intense, unadulterated.
Pushes boundaries, controversy, engulfs me in flames.
Vision, judgement, thought. Tainted.
Must find those who repressed, attacked in my falling.
Must retaliate. Black veils all.
Sleepless. Restless. Black is strength, concentrated energy.
Pain, sorrow, death feeds the heart, barricades the surface.
They know not of the years of re-modulation, reconstruction of character.
Naive, simple minded, universally tracked fools.
They move on after their torment, yet I forget not.
Black.
Finally has taken over.
I refuse to resist.
No need.
The world has won and lost the battle simultaneously.
Victims cower in my black. The darkness distresses them.
No final requests, no last rites, no compromise.
Screams pleading mercy fall at deaf ears.
The wrath of the raging demon has begun.
I have the forbidden power.
Prepare yourself.
Well, what can I say? This poem is incredibly important to me, as it proves to me the power of writing, creative paradigms and the essence of human nature reflected on paper. Yes, I was feeling incredibly pi**ed off when I was writing this. Stupid feelings now, but the feelings were murderous and apathetic. I think even now, even after anger management, there will be things, direct and indirect, that enrage me and admittedly make me stray from my path. Yes, I know it’s bad. I know it’s not right and our Deen gives us ample opportunity to change ourselves for the better. He gives us so much whilst asking for so little in return, so it does pain me when I lower myself in this way.
However, I guess this gift is pretty much my opportunity, my unique way of improving myself – by spilling all the negative feelings and hate out of myself and onto paper. It did make me feel better, and emotionally fuelled poetry such as this really is a good showcase for myself and others to see! In this case, I compared my state to a colour – black. It’s a simple, static colour, but so ambiguous too. Black can hide the truth and shroud common sense; definitely it can change perceptions, fool people and lure the weak in. Imagine it now: your own body acting of its own will (impossible, yes, but think of it all the same), desires whet like mad and this decaying attribution slowly spreading to your whole body. I think in retrospect that is what I was aiming for. And with this poem, I think I have.
Jazak’Allah for reading.
Peace & respect ★
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