jihad

terbaring sendiri setelah seketika meronta
terlepas segala persoalan yang membelenggu
saat yang ku idamkan dari dunia yang berat tak terbawa
tatkala sang peluru menjunam terus mencium ke dada
cantik ku lihat dunia ku
sayu dan permai, tersenyum aku menudingkan jelingan anak mata
ketika tubuh perlahan rebah meninggalkan jasad
walaupun pekat darah mengalir menyuburkan intifada
mengapa menangis lagi ibu?
mengapa kau jerit penuh hiba isteriku?
apa yang kau dendamkan sahabatku?
bila destinasi ku kini lebih bahagia dari ini
bila haruman keluarga Yassir terbentang menanti syuhada...

slumber

slumber and evil

crank my head with the shape of flake
all snow flow shining bright as it glows
all tree tricks me into the freak heat
sunny all summers funny i was'nt told

crank my head with the shape of flake
springs went by smothered me slow
black smoke filled and drilled my head rolled
zephyr as it shows, green o' grassy field

and to live in the city inner sin
or leave this village of deviant pure...

zariesworld
somewhere around 2.00 pm
7/08/06
ling abb on phonological task...

art, the definition of me

art, the definition of me

art is the physical reflection of my inner thought
my sole desire of an abstract structure
art is useless only to the eyes of nobody
for thee is not sharing and surely thee cannot see
the fondness of fantasy that i feel inside me
art is a form of a revolutionary
an ideology in the making
with the mind that is contributing
like a literature and society
between the sun and the sea
art is the rhythm of love making
the stroke of vivid imaginary caressing the sensitivity
the sound of lovers moaning
and the pain that eases everyhting
though art is so funny
it depicts the social heirarchy
of a man in need like a chess game indeed
so art is useless for it is me and me
the selfish me and it is only me....

03/08/06
1.32 pm
zariesworld
art the definition

urban

urban

i was at the end of the dawn
suffocating the clouds of a thousand black roses
playing dizzy with my unintentional sight
chunking the sound of the screachy trumpets
and here i am in between the lost souls
those who woke up before me i consider them as bold
and those after me i pitied their goal
cracking bones and a twist of hump
rocking my ass off with a jar full of rum
walking with punks i ended drunk
wandering why, before, this land was a nice farm
the siren is blaring though i do not know why
sun blazing its hot destructing my sweaty palm
i lost my patience when i did left her
now i am lost, drowning helplessly in my state of dream...

03/08/2006
1.15 pm
city life full of shit