Protected: Guerres des Cœurs
June 13, 2008 at 8:51 pm (poetry by aziz Wazoud)
Tags: abstrait, Equivoque, intrigue, invité, légendaire, Médaillon, tabou
No ! Why ? …Nothing !!
June 8, 2008 at 11:07 pm (poetry by aziz Wazoud)
Tags: doubting, images, puzzled, stumble
Images , colors ,no faces ..your feet stumble more
you start doubting in everything you like and adore
everything becomes nothing and everybody turns nobody
you are scared at the least and dead afraid
if just bad what is being told , heard or said
you’re puzzled at things you may meet first
yet eager to keep them back to yourself evermore
for people never soothe your aching wounds
you devise it and think it out using your very hands
for people be it male or female never care anymore.
Aziz 1987
A prelude to life
May 29, 2008 at 6:55 pm (poetry by aziz Wazoud)
Tags: Fear, grief, mysterious, play, portray, sadness, shakespearian, Sibyl, Vane
Once a lonely child unable to play
And a sorrowful girl to sadness a prey.
Now brought from so far away
Into a new world,if I am to say,
To celebrate your first birthday.
Once as mysterious , I’d rather say,
As a heroine in a shakespearian play.
Now taken out _ from the sphere of yesterday
Into life, into the world worth of pray ;
Though I still rememeber you used to say
« Black are you the world of today,
grief you bring and joy you slay
sorrow you sing day after day. »
I forget not the fear you used to display ?
Fear of this world with which you disagree ;
And in my mind still keep what you say
« You ! ‘now-world’ have from me no obey ;
not your subject nor am I your prey ;
give up false smiling at me to obey ;
no longer is hope my life key ».
I say ‘No’and ask you in a simple way
« Isn’t hope and love a hapiness ray
love’s everybody’s reason to stay
you’ll be happy and forever free
by fighting away your futile dismay.
So , have no Sibyl Vane’s wild fancy
In Wilde’s Picture of Dorian Gray
Mind not show you the way to spare decay :
Life is over when tears are the key ;
The future ,to me, is a monster I do not care to portray
And I take things as a little child may .
For everything is gonna be alright and ok
As went wise people unlike me…
W.aziz 1986
Protected: Maux Grégaires
May 20, 2008 at 8:18 pm (poetry by aziz Wazoud)
Tags: abandonnés, clôtures, Espoir, immaculée, jungle, poètes, silence, vierge
Fatal agony of death
May 9, 2008 at 11:31 pm (poetry by aziz Wazoud)
Tags: affection, blues, devouring, emotions, entombing, fences, heart, miswritten, nostalgic, strings, swollen
Rays of light through fences round my heart leaking
Devouring the shadows of fear and sparing my shaking,
Planting nostalgic thrills of hasty sunset sinking.
Unwelcome tears stream down my soaked cheeks,
And sow misty illusions and teasing tricks
When a lass ever haunting my soul sighs and speaks.
With a slowly healing heart aching and bleeding,
A deaf past displayed a strong unyielding
Ans endeavored to cheat on my skill of eluding.
Chilly waves of memories digging my brains,
Drawing crimson narrow paths on my veins,
Leaving back dense hills of sorrowful pains.
Lonely eyes with burning tears dropping,
And a wounded mind swollen by weeping
I knelt down to beg way to her heart lupin.
An evil joy sought way to the gate of my time
And sentenced me to live lapses devoid of rhyme :
With no hints to decipher the realm of mime.
A huge cluster of ravens hardly flying
Veiled the sun and deafened me with shriek yelling
And nested on the torn side of my feeling.
My eyes closed, back deep in dark caves,
Saw ambitions wrapped in the future of old slaves,
Saw them sobbingly digging their own graves.
Soul music rhythms sewn with suffering,
Bound with strings of injustice darkness was bearing,
Entombing the lights aims of fear and scaring.
A widow’s mournful voice whispered over my fence,
Thrilled my silence,stole my smile and gave it sense,
Split my emotions , captured the reins of my defense.
Two lonely stars of a sore happiness rebeling
To join the sky of a love fortress crumbling,
And to fade away like a prisoner’s calling.
The blank screen on yonder high mountain
With laws of love miserably miswritten
Eagerly awaiting my correction and raising the curtain.
I am looking for my soul’s self not raving,
I am after the affection that orphan time is weaving
In unknown verses of famous posts still living.
Blues relating slaves tales with sung stories,
Involving my indifference to sail inside worries
And translating my steps into queer series.
Dream of a lasting peace is slipping away
Turning my steel hills into small heaps of hay,
Damping off the head of my imagination tree.
W.Aziz 1987
A Thinking Willow
May 9, 2008 at 11:30 pm (poetry by aziz Wazoud)
Tags: apart, bid, fall, feet, ignore, lose, prayed, shade, waterfall, waves
Some seek your shade
Some your colour green
few lose and no one wins
for all ignore your grade
some like your green leaves
fall apart and again like waves
Come out the way your ,
they will only to home lead
let they be weeds to my lake
willows ever green ,never foresake
you’ll end where you belong
where you’ll never feel wrong
where well two hearts can get along
No tempest would ever spare a tree
even prayed to on one’s knee
nor no waterfall high or low
would spare any shy willow.
W.Aziz 1991
Sleep.. my son !
May 9, 2008 at 11:26 pm (All my music, Ecrit en Français, poetry by aziz Wazoud, Uncategorized)
Tags: banned, dreams, fade, mourn, mysteries, plea, Puzzles, slavery, trodden
Shall you ever be strong
Shall we always be wrong ;
Your dawn looks no weary
And our sun snores in slavery ;
You suck the soul you lack
You sure leave nothing back ;
Even voltures starve on your land
You put to my being an end ;
No one escapes your will
The by-gone and the coming still ;
He who dares to mourn the past
Shall be trodden , he’s an outcast ;
And banned who seeks to know
Just breathes and swims in his woe ;
History smiles in our face
Sneers and snarls at our race ;
Dismantled now goes the ship
No mast, only slaves and a whip ;
No shipwreck in the old’s mind
But no goods could the young find ;
Puzzles , mysteries and white lies
Taught to the young to wash the whys ;
Big are you in the little’s eyes
And our sun swears never to rise ;
The young feels warm in your shade
While dreams in full bloom fade ;
Some feel , some fly, some flee,
Some have no idea of any plea …
Aziz
1990
Protected: Spitting rhyme
May 9, 2008 at 11:19 pm (poetry by aziz Wazoud)
Tags: hatred, love, misty, moan, rippeled, soothe, vile
A Nestling on a Scarecrow
May 9, 2008 at 11:17 pm (poetry by aziz Wazoud)
Tags: apocalyptic, gloomy, meadows, nestling, oblivion, recluse, scarecrow, sense, spouse, tatooed, yield
Dead words promised in my veins
Shine to heal your severing pains
To maim your severed-to-be time
For wisdom is sought in Will’s rime.
Nightmares pregnant of wounds
Clinging with so many a hand
To my elequent silenced words,
Funeral crowds wailing at night
Majestically crossing left and right
The gloomy paths of my blood…
What a life early married to confiscation
And for life to be sold to oblivion !
A recluse of a time with giant strides
I see a sole mother to my sides
To tear up my senses in deafness,
And , for a death with no nothingness.
Deep shall I bear refusal roots
Of a consoling cynical indignation
And my dreams with no completion
Tatooed in my veins , dormant riots.
I find no ear to harbour my sound
And none to heal any of my wounds,
Painfully shall I bear the despondency
Of a time stumbling to look and never see.
Deaf-mute is my absence-presence
In a blood sullen autumn
And in your eternal absence
I’ll initiate myself , O freedom,
To the art of dying times a day _
I‘ll fling the dice for my way.
I beg the possibility of conquering
Those green meadows of silence
Where prisoner poets weave green verses
To win you to divorce your ignorance.
A second-hand soul mourning loud
To heal mine strewn with swords
Virgin still her spirit is in a shroud
For lack of passion in your love jars.
True passion I’d swear in every line,
All my every line , spiritual shelter,
Slides from so shine to so pine
Spouse of none , proud spinster.
In yonder forest where free birds
Enslaved to the seasons of her woods
Meseems never fail their holy rites
The time the sun rises till she sets.
I play chess and I drown my sins
In the darkness of your dead eyes,
In the storm of your dull clarity
To lose the game and be master to your mystery.
I rush off , I seek your fair doom
Wrapped in a shroud, my eternal home
Where bloody wounds of all time
Befriend my soul in false mime.
Eternally shall I ever break my fast
To yield to no ignorance tempest;
My soul shall trust to your poetic tomb
Her spirit, my apocalyptic womb.
W.aziz 1988
