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