AHMED FAROOQ BAIDOON

 

The Sneer Of Loss

 

Be those sentiments fleeting in that sultry garment vex,

that scythe of bygone in jubilant memorial stand,

uneasily cutting those braided tumultuous celestial hand,

Here I go, a vicar of the unknown realm,

Wandering through the Orcs' and Gollems' shack,

A boulevard of nowhere till I find the sun of pay back,

No more fib! a helpless stature shape, forging crumbs of me,

Burnt and depleted in pursuit of ecstasy,

The spheres of my prodigy dodecahedron—let alone convoluted,

In the land of wonders and meaninglessness wherein polluted,

Nothing but howling dogs, swarming herds and earthquake stampede,

That Mother Nature shall have its say:

Beware of the truth untold, you'd better not to stay,

That solitary hermit in an altar, under Providence might,

If only he could've much muckle of time for insight,

That hoax of eternity of a sinful humanity;

Isn't it a heavenly judicial cloak to apply law of security?

That quill subdued to forays of unwanted rains;

Of undulating waves of my lively plains,

And I —succumbed to a distorted worthy scroll,

Shan't I borrow a life raft stranded in a rehabilitation sanctuary survivors' toll?!

 

My Quill Upsurge

 

Uneasily borne by my poetic lines,

A melodious resonant music with echoing harbinger,

I swear in those days melted away and left a hermit,

In a microcosmic altar destitute of verdant arable ink suffering confabulation,

A withered crayon in the realm of blowing mighty winds,

I hereby, an alleged shrewd, replete of acumen, or claimed to ponder,

Strayed and aberrated in the serrated tug gyre,

The ticking getting louder and stripped of my dreamy wings,

My collage, my scrapbooks, all shattered and clipped,

Enough is enough, the undersigned shape of distorted me, proclaimed:

Ain ‘t we —mankind on the visage of abyss?

Ain ‘t we still worthy humanity or that replica of a humanoid?

Adieus! Farewell my candle wick, no longer there be a fuel to light,

Behold—the depleted stature of my inside, fragmented, perplexed with loss of sight,

That process of purgation, cannot be overnight,

From the dawn twilight till dusk of ephemeral history,

Ain ‘t there a second coming for repentance, atonement, oblation of forgiveness?!

It doth serve me right!!

Those memorial apparitions of unquestioning human grudge and abomination,

Push us towards the unnegotiable stake,

We, the entirely crippled conscientious beings —rendered through a sedative slumber, apart from wake,

Embarked upon the seven sleepers’ den fate,

Rather, here we are, the lotus eaters numbed at the heavens gate,

The obnoxious hell precipitated our eternal abode in the worldly livelihood,

The paradise of cherishing bliss, trodden by innocent martyrs, can't tell the truth!

And all of us, slapped by spoiled oblivion broth, understood?

Tell us why? Oh, my roaming dove, doth it has to be the moribund of good?

Be it the inevitable doom of amputated childhood?

All vegetation, superfluous oceans cry out for a plea:

"Will peace prevail once more, otherwise we’d better flee? "

My all wholeness lost in entangled cauldron, still that battered part of me!

Sublime mannerisms shall unleash such paginated alphabets, hither and thither,

Alas! Couldn't find out the key.

 

AHMED FAROOQ BAIDOON

 

AHMED F. BAIDOON: This is Mr. Ahmed F. Baidoon from Egypt, situated on the northern coast of the Mediterranean sea (Damietta), born in 1981, his passion for literary works started at the High School before having his degree at English Department in the university, his former writings during his study were poetic genres translated into the native mother tongue, Arabic, in addition to paraphrasing some poems for Shakespeare, William Words Worth, Yeats and Robert Frost, some highlights on the African contemporary poets and novelists, most of contemporary erudition on the Egyptian writers in literature. Still his poetic modus operandi are reflected throughout finding a manifest-clear equivalent of Arabic literary genre into English context, he is a curious enthusiastic member on the social media Facebook in the forum of Al-jiad in Jordan, Nabd Al-ebda3 Alarabi, Montada Alkalimat in Egypt, Dar Amarji paper editions in Iraq and other Arabic symposia for Poets and literators’ confederations, he won some certificates of appreciation in literary contests as excelled and topped the other colleagues in terms of short stories, micro fiction and poetic stanzas in  Arabic throughout the social media, he is smitten by the English language, rather my Arabic is the most exquisite language with transcendent figures of speech by whichhe can hardly find an equivalent interpretation into other languages. As for his part, literature is not all-in-all a mere piece of writing that walks and talks, rather ascribing life to non-animate objects and grant life to the surrounding natural elements to be replete with vitality and serenity for the sake of humanity.