MSC #5 - CaudateAmor Vincit Omnia thus beginsMSC #5 - Caudate by shehrozeameen
This sonnet to you dearest nightingale
Love, oh precious! Love is a forlorn tale:
It gives an audience to the chagrin
Of the heart's impatience - thus does it grin
Shamelessly as its mastery impales
the senses, forcing a Schiller's lost vale
to consume one's vision, and see within:
To realize the light calling to us;
But the heart construes a cry to the Lord -
For it knows when the mind is led astray:
For it follows it own choice, it floats thus
To see from a plane we did not accord -
Hence do fools find that their choice one fine day
See their love fade away
Hindered hopes and whispers I reminisce
For Behind all that mirth and sweetened bliss
Fate Screams with a sharp hiss:
"Henceforth will you roam this world without hope?
For what will you sacrifice to elope?"
MSC #3 - Terza RimaForever bound by woes none can understandMSC #3 - Terza Rima by shehrozeameen
We wait for an end unlikely to happen
'Tis a guilt of heart and mind - hard to withstand
Is this the dream oft told - aloft, forbidden?
It seems to me, lost, a forlorn conclusion
Alas, from love alone, can we be broken
All beings, born equal, have many questions
Unanswered, we are trapped in our minds confined
Not whole - devoid; we are seeking redemption
What defines love? Why must it be deified?
Its essence, praised, has not yet been realized.
MSC #2 - PetitListen, heed to the whispers that you hearMSC #2 - Petit by shehrozeameen
“To traverse here one would be led astray”
It was good fortune that aided you here
I think there is more that will come your way
From the lands travel south – those are lands known
To you; But before you leave, I ask you:
Is it true, stranger, that your clan disowned
And exiled you for a person you knew?
The King on the throne was one of your own?
|My submissions to MSC 2014 held by |
May Sonnet Challenge (NOW OPEN)5/1/2014: The MSC folder is now open for submissions! Good luck!
a reverie of sadness laments love transcendentAimes-tu quand je parle en francais?a reverie of sadness laments love transcendent by shehrozeameen
In the scavenging deep within my catacomb of old forlorn memories, did I find myself returning to the surface, alone, like a dead autumn leaf. Though I am not broken, I am far from perfect - just like an autumn leaf is intricately brittle, waiting for that one moment when it will be broken into so many pieces it does not serve anyone anymore. Thus did you speak when the darkness consumed and overlapped silence in its wake, leaving resolute impedance. What did you manage to do? You left, and forswore a wanderer in his wake, just as an autumn leaf leaves only a fleeting glimpse of what it once was: a part of a tree, a part of a greater life where there was love everlasting as long as it held onto those gentle tendrils called "sanctuary". There was none when the realization of an end, came into being.
Came into being... Came into being... came into being... how simple was it to be, when all it took was one simple realiza
|Short Stories from Yours Truly|
|My Quatrains in the Rub'iyaat format made famous by Edward Fitzgerald.|
Happy Reading <------- he's a pervert.
my cat is sadmy cat is sad.Paperback-Astronaut
no one else in his family is a cat
we are all human except for him
he is excluded from most things
and no one tells him why
he just wants to play
and be loved
he looks at us with wonder
he says hello i am a cat what is my existence
what is that / why it and not me / please can you look at me
and love me too
can i have some of your food please I'm sorry i don't like my food so much
do you want to play with my toys? this one is my favourite
do you like me
are we brothers
why didnt i grow up
why am i so small
can you help me be happy
where are you going
WineHead on a patisserie tableBloodshotInk
with a wine-scented napkin
that I scrawled your name all over
in the hopes it might necromance
or just romance you
to this place, at this time,
so we could be together again
and although the guitarist knows
that I'm broken beyond blue
I keep reaching for the bottle
in the hopes it might recreate
or just replicate
semicolonsi always typeAyeAye12
with the semicolon
it;s a story;
so the BACKSPACEspace
away from quantum
Sonnet informatiqueLes cycles redondants de mon horloge internepascal-prevost
Repassent chaque fois sur tes derniers pixels
Prisonnier à jamais de tes blocs résiduels
Mon trop vieux multi-cœur a la fréquence en berne
Des flots d'informations que le courant gouverne
Aucun n'a le pouvoir d'effacer tes courriels
Où donc est le bonheur dans tous ces logiciels
Aurais-je dû douter d'une mémoire externe
De notre uni-jonction au fond d'un transistor
Il ne reste que moi perdu dans le décor
Aurais-je dû douter de tes lignes de code
Un ultime reset après le dernier clic
Et je disparaîtrai de ton réseau public
J'étais ton électron tu étais ma cathode
The Baby Farmi got told that competitionmuscularteeth
festered aggression because of flaws
in our men, and women:
neurotic bug-eyed preeners
with the thick glob lashes flashing
their witty styled smiling,
these long-legged ladies
on the street tailoring their walks
to match the best and next,
she's the thing she
aspired to be with nothing
to show for it,
and what terrorist infested
nightmare in the middle class waxing
by paranoid fever shots,
if you don't.
if you do.
but if you don't,
he counts cubicles and keys
and the seconds of drift between
a meaningful anything,
they don't look each other
in the eye anymore,
did you ever see him before?
did you ever look
in the next second
the perception splits and fluorescent
resonance pits his eyes
did she ever
did she ever look
through his lens before?
did she ask why
this is all we've thought
even in the dewy midnight
eyes of her, asking about art and what
he really loved in her,
he sifts through systems
of reaffirmation for
ghost-writer.A song with less structure91816119
than thought can provide
so that I could breathe the words
as if the wind were calling
just for you;
I would write records, symphonies
of such songs
bleed them out under the needle
just for a glimpse of your voice,
hunched back against the streetlamps
hulking over me
in great waves of tidal beauty,
a wilderness of
longing the lostyou can’t hear my criesPauper-Circumstance
my wailing in the corner
every lonely moment
i think of what
we used to be
the snarky remarks
the annoying gestures
the constant teasing
our wonderful bond
i cry for those moments,
that seem so long ago
at a time when
things got better
i was young
you may have forgotten
but i haven’t
those moments of laughter
even though we hadn’t met
i felt i knew you
and you knew me
there was harmony
in our words
going step and stone
i long for these moments again,
i long for them so much
i’m so lonely
i scour old messages
to make me feel wanted
to remember those times
those grand old times
i try leaving messages unread
making believe they’re new
yet knowing their the past
my past our past passed
i wondered a year ago
where we’d be today
i wondered with hope
i only look towards the past
for those emotions
i want them back
i want them so bad
yet inside my heart
Salvation and TurpentineDead tired,prettyflour
limbs gone lazy
after a completely hellish day.
I’m relaxing into a glass of something toxic.
Amber salvation chilled with ice.
It’s deceptively pretty
but goes down
with a welcome burn
that I hope will leave me numb.
I try not to think of his hands, calloused but gentle.
How easily they could unbend me.
I settle for escape
in the form of
Your FaceSuccubus squeezing my sentimentsianderickson
Down on us as we mire in elegance.
I drown in an ocean of disease
As you rule over me with ease.
Never amused with anything I do,
Forever accused in everything I skew,
Slay a dragon just for you,
Yet all I receive is more of the untrue!
Like a ship without water you mock the land.
I once was close to clasping your hand-now
Sand has filled the bottom of the hour glass
Our time has run out- simply too fast.
How can a love go so wrong?
We once danced to those old songs
Ha! Never again will I brush your face
Never again will we go to that wondrous place.
You stole my heart at first glance and
Years later you tore it open without a chance.
You call me crazy but- if that is so-
Why must you attempt to go and overthrow I know?
Sunglasses on you looking so fine!
I figured you'd always be mine
But things change as people do
I always thought it'd be me and you.
But that was a brain screw from a wicked shrew
Without any shoe waiting for it to drop on through.
Digging My GraveMy eyes are wet and burningno-longer-confused
With fire and pain from cruelty in love.
Ash floating in the air above,
As I kneel, eyes downcast upon the ground,
Watching the blood run in in streams around.
My hands are red and filthy
With blood and mud from digging my grave,
Exhuming my soul to save.
As I kneel, hands blistered upon the shovel's shaft,
Watching the smoke of the chaos I craft.
My lungs are weak and smothered
With the smoke and tar from chemical flame,
Tumourous love for which we're to blame.
As I kneel, lungs choking and gasping for air,
Watching, in fear, the remains of a stare...
Eyes downcast as the blood flows,
Carrying the mud and ash from my view.
When it clears, in my own grave I froze...
For I do not see me... I only see you.
Iambic TetrameterThe nightmares tear asunder hopeNathanielFlyingOwl
And shadows black with fervor grope
Within my heart so dark and cold
Within my spirit grown so old
Can I still witness light as it-
As well with with fervor strives to keep
My tried and tested faith from sleep
And give my weakened spirit grit?
The Tide in Her EyesShe believed in herEdges-to-Everything
borne of her birth in
a Blue Moon month.
Just forty-one of those
to a Century, she said
as the tide rose in her
She giggled as she inquired
if I was bright enough to know
that once in a blue moon equals
1.16699016 × 10-8 hertz.
Ignorant was I of this equation,
for my birth in February came
and went without a blue moon,
the only month to sometimes miss.
I miss her eyes, even as the tide
in them had ebbed for me, and
I don't think of her now but
perhaps once in a blue moon.
hummingbirds only fly in the sun hummingbird girl,d-e-l-e-t-e-d
you are the sunlight twinkling
in my eyes. a letter addressed
to no one ended up on nobody's
doorstep, dancing around odysseus
and his iliad. the gods whisper
in your ears at night, lending you
their words to paint onto brittle
parchment. you are a mystery
cloaked in fragments and fabricated
wings, the taste of the universe
on my tongue. if i could unlock
the cage i would set you free,
but my nimble fingers aren't good
for anything except tying knots
in heartstrings that aren't my own.
In clearest skiesIn clearest skies above the clouds.DannyMechanist
where hope reigns supreme.
Above all woes of day to day.
From whence, so small they seem.
Oh one may so lose track of time.
How one may dare to dream.
In clearest skies above the clouds.
Where hope reigns supreme.
Till winter fades"If love doth grow cold;PuzzledHeartBox
I shall kiss you with fire;
Cold feet set ablaze."
chokehelp me, i am burning and i cannot see the fireyour-first-boyfriend
i'm a lobster in a pot and i can't contain my ire
i fear and loathe the gills i have carved into my neck
i'm a fish out of water, a self-destructive wreck
my lungs are filled with ash and broken coral bone
and all i really want is to go and drown alone
Hi! My name is Shehroze Ameen.|
I'm at present working in the following groups:
- Founder - A place where all your get exposure. Do give it a look
- Head of the Critique Department - send a whenever if you want to apply as a critic to me, prettyflour or Michel-le-fou . For more details, see this journal:
Critique Department Update: Critic Openings!EDIT: Duties of Critics have been added in this notice. Thanks fernknits for pointing that out. Appreciate it.
- Second in Command - a place where you get critique in exchange for critique given to members . The rules are provided in the unappreciated journal features posted every month. Come on over!
- Staff Critic (now promoted to Co-founder) - Yes, photography critic as well. in case you ever have any photographs which you feel require attention or are outstanding, don't hesitate to send me a .
What else.... I love . If you need somebody to , or need someone to talk to about something, me. but if your serious about progressing forward, I'll do my level best to help you out in any way possible...
Looking forward to what people feel about my works
Hear me / my poems on Bandcamp or Soundcloud:
Apart from dA, I'm also in the following writing websites. Cheers.
Blogger : vermilionshroudsofmyinnerself.…, serzhrant.blogspot.com
I am available for commissions as well (writing mostly ). Here's the thumb to my commission details:
Commissions OpenName of commissioner: shehrozeameen :iconshehrozeameen:and its only for 20 (my cut is 16 , if you want it in real life amount).
Don't hesitate to go when you wind up looking at my works Cheers.
The Nobel Peace Prize 2014 was awarded jointly to Kailash Satyarthi and Malala Yousafzai "for their struggle against the suppression of children and young people and for the right of all children to education" ("The Nobel Peace Prize 2014". Nobelprize.org. Nobel Media AB 2014. Web. 11 Oct 2014.")
The Heavenly ShipOne day, it was early evening and the sun was just about to set, as the Little Sheep came to his friend Stalker Horse on the meadow, where he just took his goodnight grass, and asked: "You, Stalker Horse, you know the way to the heavenly ship? ".
"Hmmm," replied Stalker Horse, because he just chewed with relish on some particularly tasty herbs, "I think I can help you, Little Sheep. My grandfather often told about it when I was young and described me the way there."
"Oh, that is fine," cried the Little Sheep delighted, "can we go right there?". "Please," begged the Little Sheep the Stalker Horse that could not be fazed and still tugged at a few blades of grass. "It is my birthday today."
"All right. Come, get on my back. We fly together to the Heavenly Ship".
Stalker Horse knelt down and the Little Sheep climbed without difficulty on the back of his friend.
"Hold on, Little Sheep, here we go!" With these words, Stalker Horse got to move. He was faster and faster until he finally t
|Critique is such a hard job - but somebody's gotta do it. I for one, am proud of my critiques.|
Commissions OpenName of commissioner: shehrozeameen :iconshehrozeameen:
Commissions OpenName of commissioner: shehrozeameen :iconshehrozeameen: