Beyond Dark Eyes

I am sat here alone and writing

The midnight moon shines on the temple gates

They’re drinking wine and talking

And my thoughts they all now separate

I live in another world

Where pain and death are iconised

My life is strung with traitor’s pearls

And all I see are dark eyes

 

I think of you sleeping so far away

Hear you breathe sweet innocence

Your face it fades into darkened grey

But your words now enter my inner sense

I can hear a desert drum

Beating beneath the poet’s disguise

Four riders watch as they come

And all I see are dark eyes

 

I was raised to be discreet

For all life’s intended purposes

They tell me revenge is sweet

Against my enemy’s twisted vertices

But I feel nothing for their game

Where beauty goes unrecognized

All I feel is heat and flame

And all I see are dark eyes

 

The Human Touch

Your eyes sparkle

On a hot Hazara night

You look to the sky

Where the stars burn bright

And turn

And think again

The human touch

The human touch

From a far distant land

The human touch

The human touch

Ripples gently across the sand

Your thoughts wander

To a far off place

You dream of the future

With a lifetime’s grace

And turn

And think again

The human touch

The human touch

From a far distant land

The human touch

The human touch

Ripples gently across the sand

By Allah’s hand

In a world gone wrong

Across 4,000 miles

You’ll hear this song

And turn

And think again

The human touch

The human touch

From a far distant land

The human touch

The human touch

Ripples gently across the sand

Your thoughts they sail

Across the oceans wide

No rhyme nor reason

The tides they collide

And turn

And think again

The human touch

The human touch

From a far distant land

The human touch

The human touch

Ripples gently across the sand

Poem: Dylanesque

A blackbird is singing, grass growing high
There’s a soft cotton dress on the line hanging dry
The window’s wide open, Acacia trees
Yellow wash gently in a warm summer breeze
He sits at his desk, pencil in hand
Watching and waiting for his grey dove to land

A train rumbles slowly, along the old track
There’s smoke in the air from behind the shack
Feel the pulse and vibration and the rumbling force
A young girl is out there upon a white horse
He sits at his desk, pencil in hand
Watching and waiting for his grey dove to land

A faint message appears in the hand of Hermes
Love and affection ‘mid the fluttering leaves
Hope is rekindled, and his brave life it does float
Cool is the wind as he picks up his coat
He sits at his desk, pencil in hand
Watching and waiting for his grey dove to land