Monday, December 26, 2016

The Heart's Poetry: The Essence of Music

The Essence of Music

Music, how it speaks

From the soul it rings clear, soothing the mind, touching the heart, with ever so tender sweet vibrations

Fingers, strumming, give new substance to the air

Climactic notes tease open ears and inject hot currents beneath the skin

Insistent rhythms pulsing fast, pound in time with boiling blood

Emotions welling to the surface burst the shell of apathy

Hurricanes of instinctual motion resurrect the carcass of vitality

Music, how it screams

Awakening the primordial desire to be, to feel, to live

Music, how it flows

Like liqueur down the gullet; a potent herald of ecstasy

© 2009-2012 Raheema Muhammad

Tuesday, December 20, 2016

The Heart's Poetry: Moving On

Moving On

Somewhere between dreams and reality, I lost sight of you

And then I forgot all about us, and everything that used to matter

I cannot pinpoint the exact moment it happened, but one second, I was full of you, and the next, I was empty

Somehow, taking that first step away felt wrong; and it was a wonder I didn’t regress

But instead, I moved forward, little by little each day, and discovered the true beauty of selfishness

I hadn’t realized how heavy you were until I let go

Now I look back and can only feel the wind; pushing me farther, further on, past the crevice where you fell away

To somewhere beyond those dreams and reality

© 2009-2012 Raheema Muhammad

Tuesday, December 13, 2016

The Heart's Poetry: The Horror of Waking

The Horror of Waking

I recall being poised above the clouds, weightless beneath an ocean of stars, stretched atop sedimentary sunlight

Time had been frozen in a single, perfect moment

Balanced precariously between apathy and bliss

It was the suspension of life; the attainment of tranquility

Suddenly…oh so suddenly, there was a slam; and all at once, time began to move

No…not simply move…run

And then came gravity, accompanied by a twist, which sent me spiraling violently into a gaping, black chasm

Far…far…NEAR BELOW!!

The pain of severance…it burned

I opened my eyes and observed a new reality

There were voices…so many voices now

Screaming, crying, screeching—


“You’re awake!” say they

“Oh…” I whisper

I’m awake, they say

Oh…I weep
© 2009-2012 Raheema Muhammad

Monday, December 5, 2016

The Heart's Poetry: Tragic Vanity

Tragic Vanity

Play for me sweet, give me a song; give me a reason to breathe

Touch up my flaws, wipe them away; conceal me with delicate dreams

Am I now perfect, precious and clean, enough to give passion away?

Am I now wanted, am I now saved, from being discarded today?

Perhaps for a moment, perhaps for a night; perhaps fore the sun sets below

Perhaps I’ll be welcome behind the door

Perhaps for a little bit more

Careful my dear…they whisper, they sneer; you’ll ruin your face for the eyes

And then in a flash, tears will flood away, the paint of your lovely disguise

Treacherous thing, although he may sing, his words hold the echo of lies

Your reasons are rubbish, your breath will grow stale, and choked will you be when lust dies

Then I suppose, what simply is left, is for me to keep up the ruse

I’ll have it engraved, carved into my skin, a glamour which none can refuse

Play for me soft, now capture my smile; by-pass the scars of my pain

Perfection…it hurts; yet now I’ve attained

This beauty no other can claim
© 2009-2012 Raheema Muhammad

Tuesday, November 29, 2016

The Heart's Poetry: Certain Things

Certain Things

Certain things need not be spoken, to be well understood

Certain things should be kept hidden, for knowing does no good

Certain things can be obscured by blatant, wicked lies; but other things are seen so clear, they cannot be disguised

Certain words may soothe the ears, and blind the open eyes

Certain sights may hurt the heart, and bring storms to the skies

Certain things take time to make, to nurture and to grow; certain things may wither fast, and blossom very slow

Certain fruits are suckled sweet, just as their nectar springs; craved they are, always because, they’re named forbidden things

Certain hands may labor vainly, steal and kill for lust

Certain knees may scrape the ground and crawl up through the dust

Certain things live in our dreams, and die at sun’s first light

 Certain things should be destroyed, and veiled within the night
© 2009-2012 Raheema Muhammad

Wednesday, November 23, 2016

The Heart's Poetry: What If

What If

What if I told you, that I love you; that I need you more than air?

What if I wrote you, one hundred letters; all screaming praises for your name?

Would you then notice? Would you then care?

Would you then turn back around?

Would you rewind the tape, playback the days, you let me hold you down?

What if I said, let the world talk; let the world whisper, let the world see

That right by your side I’d walk

What if I showed you my ugly face, all smattered with snot and tears

Would you then rescue me from the pain, of being crushed beneath my fears?

Or maybe you’d say, she’s only a child; she’ll get up again, be free in a while

There’s no reason for you to make amends, and add to your list of amoral sins

What if I waited outside in the rain?

Would you then feel pity, or simply feel shame?

Would you pull me into your conflicted chest, and try to clean up this pitiful mess?

Or maybe you’re colder than I can discern, and therefore care not, that for you I yearn

Perhaps all my words are drops in the sea; and I am but wishing for what cannot be

What if you saw me now at my worst…would you ache to see my tender heart burst?

Would you hold the pieces, bloodied and bruised, and sew them together to then be reused?

What if I told you, I’ll never let go

Not till you say it, so I can then know; for certain you want me gone far away

Or would much prefer, that near you I stay

© 2009-2012 Raheema Muhammad

Tuesday, November 15, 2016

The Heart's Poetry: Don't be Sixteen (In Love)

Don’t Be Sixteen (In Love)

Don’t be sixteen, a girl in love with dreams; the past teaches that dreams too often don’t come true

Don’t be sixteen, stupidly bewitched by lights

Those lights will make you blind; forget your senses, lose your mind

Don’t be sixteen, it’s barely even legal; nothing you do can change the fact that they see a child

No screams, no fights, no reasons; no way to run straight out

Of your skin, constraining, young…clothed in chains of doubt

Don’t be sixteen, a girl in the USA; you’ll be a slut, a pregnant whore, a victim of your day

Don’t be sixteen, a rebellious tramp, who curses the mass of fools; chasing always a bigger sky, and breaking all the rules

Don’t be sixteen, in past or present; it’s such a lonely thing

They’ll leave you stranded on the docks, beside a sewage sea

Don’t be sixteen without a care; without a reason why

Don’t be sixteen, in love with dreams…

They’ll only make you cry

© 2009-2012 Raheema Muhammad

Tuesday, November 8, 2016

The Heart's Poetry: Life Goes On

Life Goes On

Pretty young thing, only wanted to sing; sold off her soul to buy her one dream

She climbed to the top to conquer the world, and was pulled straight down

Such a pitiful girl

But by and by, this life goes on; and on it did go, though now she is gone

Her tragedy was she lived life alone, and still at the end, she had not a home

A promising lad, just like his dad, went on a journey made by the mad

Sought out the reason the stars light the sky, and then left the earth to find out just why

The voyage he made though ended half through, when his vessel broke down although it was new

The news of his fall brought angels to tears, and flew straight on through the world’s heartless ears

But by and by, life went right on; and on it did go, though now he is gone
His tragedy was he left a safe home, to seek out the stars, and died out alone

Delicate dame, had feet hewn of glass; she danced on her heart, and ran the race fast

Beloved by the world, a spell she did last; she danced and she danced, until her time passed

They wanted a younger, lovelier bird; to take up her spot and lead on the herd

Her feet were then broken by traitorous snakes, who dug out the pit, which sealed off her fate

Poor ruined dame then lost all her fame; and watched them write off her once favored name

She wasted away and lost to her pain; and soon she did die and exit the game

But by and by, life still went on; and on it did go, though now she is gone

Her tragedy was as sad as the rest; for she was another who failed life’s cruel test

The test of the rise and subsequent fall

The test of the tragedies made for us all

The test of a life which ever goes on

And on it will go, still after we’re gone

© 2009-2012 Raheema Muhammad

Tuesday, November 1, 2016

The Heart's Poetry: Dollface


Lovely she is, splendidly made; her skin cold as ice and smile never fades

Fool be the man to turn thus away, from beauty so bright it darkens the day

No matter she speaks in silent cold words; pictures last longer than soul singing birds

Gaze on her eyes, they never will see; another more blind, nor richer than thee

See how she shines in all finery; feel as she burns through your misery

Shower her with your heart aching love; lock her away, and set her above

The envious crones who vie for your eye, allow them to stare, rejoice as they die

Never again should you fear to cry; for she has a heart that just cannot lie

Nor can it feel, nor does it beat

But it shall remain all yours for the keep

Perfect she is, then for you my dear; who lives in the darkness and never will hear

The echo of love’s voice true and so clear, calling to you beneath all your fear

Take for yourself now something unreal; cling to the one no other can steal

Delight in the omen of death’s tempting trill

And know you are sick, and never will heal

© 2009-2012 Raheema Muhammad

Tuesday, October 25, 2016

The Heart's Poetry: Vengeance is Mine

Vengeance is Mine

I think I once told you this world was a lie; that it would do nothing but cause you to cry

I think you ignored me and said goodbye; but now you’ve returned to ask me just why

Why did I let you still forge your way, when I knew the price of penance you’d pay?

Why did I watch as you rushed to the fray, and never once tell you, your heart was their prey?

I think I was there when you fell apart

I think I once offered to protect your heart

I think you were arrogant; self owned and assured, that fate would be kind and life would be good

Such folly you possessed neath the soils of your breasts; and by god you did fail, when time gave its test

If but you had seen, the roots of the dream; sucking your soul, so empty and clean

Perhaps you’d have come back longing before, for me to again throw open my door

But blind as you were, you fell to the night, and mistook the stars for suns in their light

You reached for them all and did but attain, to nothing save air, and endless cold rain

But this is no answer! Please tell me, you cry

Now aching to know the truth of the why

Could not I have wrapped you tight within chains, and kept you with love away from all pains?

Could not I have forced your heart but to beat, for myself alone, and swept out your feet?

Oh if but I could, perchance then I would; if not you were stubborn beyond your own good

You seem to forget all that was done; by me from the start to show you the one

The one who would stand for you without cause; the one who’d defend and never would pause

The one who would set you high above all; the one who would catch you, if ever ye fall

But alas, you are crass, to but demand; that I should now show you, my most cruel hand

That I should reveal all truth of the lie, hidden beneath the answer of why

Why did I let you wither and die?

Why did I let you shatter and cry?

Why did I watch you waste all your time?

Why must you ask?

For vengeance is mine

© 2009-2012 Raheema Muhammad

Tuesday, October 18, 2016

The Heart's Poetry: Nameless Salvation

Nameless Salvation

I am the sickness you feel in your heart; the melodic sorrow which sings in the dark

To paint just my soul, you’d have to be blind; to possess myself, you must loose your mind

I am the night, the cage of your dreams; within me is nothing, quite as it seems

I hold each key, to set yourself free; and I know all that, you can and will be

Trust in my words, they never will fail

Cling to me now; I’ll give you the world

Watch them all shatter, burning in hell; arise from their ashes, burst through your shell

I am the wings, uplifting your back; I make up for all, you angels may lack

To say I am faith would halfway be true

For I am the essence of simple virtue

I am the truth beneath the great lies; the reflective clear glass they’re taught to despise

I exist only to open your eyes, and shield you all from, a timely demise

© 2009-2012 Raheema Muhammad

Tuesday, October 11, 2016

The Heart's Poetry: The Spot

The Spot

You are the spot I can’t wash away; the vigilant stain which streaks my day

With colors of warmth to vanquish the gray, that seeps from the shadows, and clouds up my way

You are the moon, gentle and bright, who cradles the stars, and softens each night

I spend every dream reaching for you, and wish that you’ll never fade into blue

You are the rain, soothing my skin, drenching my soul, sustaining my sin

I’ve drowned beneath you, again and again, while playing each game, I know I can’t win

You are the sun, a furnace of heat--that burns though the lies, and trips up my feet

You catch me before the ground and I meet; then tell me, so sure, I’m all yours to keep

You are the love, I’ve waited to find; the one, only chain, I never shall mind

You are the thing that eats up my time

The permanent spot, which stays only mine

© 2009-2012 Raheema Muhammad

Tuesday, October 4, 2016

The Heart's Poetry: Neurotic Nymphomaniacs

Neurotic Nymphomaniacs

Morality is the myth, their hungers cast aside

Forgotten is their virtue, withdrawn is their pride

No longer are they pure, but beasts beneath the skin, who flourish in their madness, and trespass for their sin

Hazy are their eyes, lurid be their lusts; depraved are their hearts, reckless be their trusts

Heaven scorned they fall, in passions they decay; for them the night is grand, and dismal is the day

The world they see is bleak, marked by flaring flames, which burn so often out, then mutate into chains

The lives they live are briefer, even than the rain, which bleeds out from the clouds, and soaks each cage they claim

Their dreams are filled with heat, pleasures tinged by pain

They tarry where they choose, and feel no touch of shame

© 2009-2012 Raheema Muhammad

Tuesday, September 27, 2016

The Heart's Poetry: Hell on Earth

Hell on Earth

Here lies the shell of broken peace, a misshapen mirage, home to the least

Of those cast off from heaven’s gates, who chase their sins, and seal their fates

Here rest the hearts, smothered by hate, choked with despair, and loved too late

These are the ones, all forced to wait, for cold damnation to dissipate

There stands the prison, of heartless ambition, beholden to men, who took on the mission

Of further staining the blood washed flag, and driving the world so foolishly mad

These are the graves of miserly knaves, beaten by greed, besieged by slaves

Therein they burn with lusts for gold, of which their hands may never hold

This is the pit which lies beneath, to trap the fools with hasty feet, running ever swift to meet the doom which they all long to cheat

Here is the place to which they fall, the ruin of them each and all

The place of every sinful bird, shot down to hell, and never heard

© 2009-2012 Raheema Muhammad

Tuesday, September 20, 2016

The Heart's Poetry: Melancholic Departure

Melancholic Departure

Hush, be still a minute more, contemplating not the door

Standing firmly guarding us, from the ever painful thrust

Of reality’s cold, unfeeling blade, which is the price that must be paid

For the cloying delusions made to keep us always so afraid

Of what awaits us in the dawn, such gentle lights but set to con

Us out of still more treasured dreams, all ripped to shreds from weakened seams

Wait, please just until they come, then perhaps we both can run

Far from all their dreadful lies, and their scornful, damning cries

Love, don’t see me with such eyes, filled with sorrows I despise

To see within your precious face, taking joy’s long ravaged place

Please, don’t say you must go back, for I wish to never lack

Again your presence held most dear, for losing you is what I fear

© 2009-2012 Raheema Muhammad

Tuesday, September 13, 2016

The Heart's Poetry: This Too Shall Pass

This too shall pass

To all things, a time, a season

For all dreams, a hope, a reason

As this be so, I know that last

Eventually, this too shall pass

I will not feel you evermore, and soon I’ll be just as before

Empty at my inner core, with no warmth felt in any pore

To this love will be an end, just to start the clock again

Running down the seconds till, another flame breaks through the chill

In my heart another stitch, will be sewn to mark the switch

From one pain I’ll have surpassed, for another yet to pass

To all things, there is a time

But for you, I do not mind

Wasting hours in the glass, for this sweet love which too shall pass

© 2009-2012 Raheema Muhammad

Wednesday, September 7, 2016

The Heart's Poetry: A Devil's Deal

A Devil’s Deal

If you’ll be my angel, I’ll be your sin

I’ll chain you down to earth again

I’ll clip your wings, and watch you fall

Into my arms, away from all

Who may just try to steal you back, and break you out the gilded trap

Which has been set for you alone, to catch you in a cage, now home

If you’ll hold my heart, I’ll burn the key, to unlock the shackles restraining thee, from any thought of leaving me

And never will I set you free

If you’ll just ignore the warning sign, I’ll let you be just only mine

I’ll stay with you for all of time, and slay all those who cross the line

If you’ll tell me you love me so, no matter what, and even though

I am a jealous, vengeful soul

I’ll keep you always as my goal

If you’ll just stand and care for me, I’ll show you I will always be, faithful only just to thee, and never will I leave you be

© 2009-2012 Raheema Muhammad