View Full Version : Clouds of Green Smoke Are Where The Wild Things Grow (The Wilderness)


Subhan
12-17-2011, 01:32 PM
Foreword:


An underappreciated and unknown poet once said,

“How could I ever forget those beautiful lullabies you once sung to me, sweet mother?”

But no matter how much I force myself to feel something, I can't.

I never had a mother, at least I never knew her.

When I was younger, they'd tell me she had been very ill and that it was God's will to relieve her of her suffering on Earth but I know she died in child birth because I killed her. I stole the oxygen from her lungs and the blood from her veins. I took her life so that I could live and every day I live with this guilt, but it doesn't affect me. I can only see myself as a wild, heartless and cold-blooded creature from another dimension whose only purpose on Earth is to kill and destroy. I learned from the best.

These are my vivid memoirs, a diary of unfelt emotions and a journal of the broken, unrealized and unrealistic drug-induced hallucinations and nightmares from the past that are my dreams. Through my own story, I will tell you those of others that share (or indeed, shared) my miserable, Godforsaken fate in this graveyard of peace, where bodies come in pieces and we pull on the tarp.

This is also a tale of greater atrocities committed in the name of God, so that sheep would blindly follow and support these vain acts of injustice without realizing that it was the love of power, money and earthly pleasures that caused them. This narrative is based on the esoteric works of one Lida Nahbus, a modern-day parallel of the blind Greek poet, Homer.

Indeed, memories are all that I've ever had. I may not be able to express what I feel like normal human beings, but I can never forget. The only emotion I'm capable of is anger and the only feeling I know is fear, that and pain. I am told these are not good for me, but they are better than nothing. Yes, something is always better than nothing unless in nothing, there is happiness to be found.

When I close my eyes, I see red and black shadows and the occasional blue dots flying about. I remember things a normal person would forget or rather, would like to forget. I remember my childhood. I used to say things that would confuse my family members and scare people away from me. When I was about three or four, I told my neighbor’s son that his house will be destroyed by a cylinder in the air that would land and burn everything around it. I hear voices, voices from the past; my father, grandmother, wife and children, all of whom are most likely dead. But more importantly, I hear Hakim.

Hakim Zmarai, the witch doctor lion of Urgon. A mystical butcher with a messiah complex and a message that could possibly save humanity.
He was different, like me, except he could feel everything and was educated. He used to think out of the box, for himself and was wise-beyond-his-years. He reminded me of the great teacher, Pir Roshan of Kannigram, with his revolutionary ideals, advice, wisdom and especially, the fact that he failed in his mission.

Despite everything we've been through together, I wouldn't call Hakim a friend. I don't have friends, only people I can talk to and he was one of them. He could understand me and taught me most of the things I know, and if I am anything today, it is only because of him.

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http://29.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lsrk4gi7S91r4vdyzo1_250.jpg
The above is a depiction of the mystical Hakim Zmarai (حکیم زمری) aka Zmaryalai Hakimi (زمریلی حکیمي) or Hakim, The Butcher, as most call him. A witch doctor from The Star of Unukalhai, The Serpant’s Neck and a gold-plated, well decorated fair king among the lions, who’s year we are now in.

Soon, God willing, you shall find out why things are this way, soon. His back story is something of a mystery to The Outsiders, but will eventually be revealed when the Cloud drops, if it ever does.

Subhan
12-17-2011, 01:35 PM
I was born on a cloud of green smoke,
Self-proclaimed prophets spoke the night I woke after 49 days of sleep,
High up in the 7th and final sky where even the lightest of birds are simply too heavy to fly,
Then the angels cut the rope; no hope,
My bubble burst and I fell head first and I split my head open and wild things ran out,
Two of which came out my brain and the third out my snout,
I tried to chase away my demons to near extinction like the White man did to the fish we call Rainbow Trout,
You should serve the blood of your messiah to thirsty believers and put an end to the drought,
Instead of pointing fingers elsewhere, you call the only ones brave enough to question your policies the axis of evil, now what the **** is that about?
I’m just a voice, barely audible whispers in the distance, a nearby shout,
Sure you cry for help, but you make only faint sounds, in fact you’re out of bounds like network coverage in the ocean,
Here are my blessings; a bowl full of poison, drink it down, this potion all magical and ****, turn your corpse to lotion,
Why pray for my enemies when I can through them off the back of a boat and create motion?
**** that, what a weak-ass rhyme its sounds like its coming from a weak-ass rapper advocating weak-ass crimes,
Back to simpler times, when people feared commandments and thou shalt not kill,
Look through my eyes for a more profound effect than any recreational pill,
What is that sound?
I’ve heard it comes from a place that I would never ever get to.
Be careful, or it would get you.

Subhan
12-17-2011, 01:36 PM
I look across the room and see this tied up bitch trying to escape,
But she looks in the mirror, seems like her pride couldn’t wait,
“Hurry up!” I said, “for God’s sake, can’t you see me coming at you with this knife and rake?”
Stupid.
I take the rake; imagine a witch being burned at stake
And scratch the eyes out every single poster of rappers, that’s envy.
All night, I’m wide awake
With my eyes wide shut, forget movies, I’m still having the same nightmares but in my dreams, I’m a king, so just let me sleep man,
At least here, I can do whatever I want,
The demon of sloth always looks down at the foot of my bed, nonchalant,
Trying to haunt, trying to taunt me,
But I don’t fall for it,
I’m far from it,
Run quick, that’s it, you’re ****ing with the wrong clique.
What are you looking at? You’re about to find out the true meaning of wrath; badal.
I cut the head off a sheep and drink whatever comes out. Raw food.
I’m hungry.
Gluttony.

The Asiatic Brown Bear will rip open your chest and make you choke on your guts, served rare,
**** cooking ****, a dead sheep is enough, just let me take off the hair,
Or fur, whatever it is, free of care rich couples will often leave their children unsupervised anywhere
To pursue their own desires of lust and greed under the guise of trying to provide a better future for their kids,
Most cities in the Western world are built on the Capital Vices, like Vice City, Ocean View Hospital, GTA franchises,
This is not anything new, as I came out of my shell, I tried to find a suitable place for me to hide,
A place that’s safe and doesn’t trigger suicide,
Cyanide capsules in this glass I’m looking at, what little water there was is now gone and evaporated,
My memory is jaded, as I lay down sedated,
Trying to find the balance between good and evil that left my mind a faded memory of what it once was,
Underestimated, underrated, underground rap genius,
The 7 deadly sins, as they were, are now eliminated,
Patience is a virtue, but for us, it’s overrated,
The present change is needed, over-anticipated, never comes.
The Western World.
Where we live,
Why we die.

Subhan
12-17-2011, 01:42 PM
Growing up he'd never heard of Barrack Hussein Obama,
When he was born, his parents named him Zmarak Mohsen Osama,
Coming up in the 90's, he had to work, pray and shop 'cuz they didn’t let his mama,
All the stress built up, and that's what triggered this drama,
Where, 10 years later they searched for someone there,
Turns he wasn’t hiding anywhere near,
Now I'm just waiting to hear,
Their excuse is they care,
But the truth is they don't and easily they scare,
They try to make up stories, like it’s only fair,
Now when he sees the mirror, it’s just a lonely stare,
I ask him why he’s colors orange his facial hair,
He looks at me blankly and says I don't want my paper plane to heaven to tear,
He ushers me to the sky and says recognize, somebody’s there,
I thought about it and asked, who what and where?
He just said yeah, that’s my whole faith there,
And wondering whether or not it exists is just too much to bear,
He sliced up a pear, and offered me some, and I was like yeah, your misery is clear,
But not for long, my brother, you shall prosper in the West,
He was like what? This is my life and to God leave the rest.

He told me how he was abducted at the tender age of 10
And got molested every day by powerful warlords and their corrupted men
And how when he dies, he prays he'd be lucky enough to be tossed in yet another unmarked grave in the graveyard of empires,
Where broad daylight is sufficiently dark enough for hungry vampires
To prey on the blood of the unaware,
And starving orphans get squashed under the tires of luxury vehicles owned by elected officials, the government's a charity,
How much change can you spare?
To turn our respected president into a billionaire
Once again, I guarantee if you remove Karzai's hat, you'll see a couple of horns rising above his head through his hair...

Subhan
12-17-2011, 02:56 PM
They said that they have made times for situations like this,
when either one of the sun or the moon rotates along the axis,
and is clearly visible, but not both,
the ambience is miserable, wild things are at growth,
ominous imagery is what we are now used to,
no use of flashing your lights on us, the war games amused who?
The sky is orange and filled with rainbows of monochrome,
monotonous voices that would otherwise welcome you home,
their hearts are dark like the night,
lights remain in their eyes but not much else is in sight,
this is the house, and I am in my room,
one o’ clock in the afternoon,
I see things I’m not supposed to, hear what is silent,
they take a look at me and labeled me potentially violent,
DSPS, the only thing in my way, brain is not compliant,
it’s an auction for my soul,
the Lord let it go and now Nescafé happens to be the best client,
**** science.


The body feels tired but the eyes don’t close,
Just smoked a joint and now I want to sleep,
REM; 12 hours, the effects is deep,
took an Ambien or two, but to no avail,
death must have kidnapped its cousin, put him in a row boat and set sail,
I’m counting sheep, but all I see is cats and dogs fighting one another,
I grab my pet’s tail and before I could let go, a voice said,
“help! I am the sandman, I was on a mission to sedate your higher self and walk out with your brains in my hand”,
I said “fail,
be a little faster next time, you might be able to outrun a snail”,
9000 400 and 6.1 is the number of my drowsiness on a scale,
of 1 to 10 but .9mm bullets fall over heads at night taking the form of hail,
face is pale,
health is frail,
they want to put me where I belong,
Guantanamo is a little further than Wormwood Scrubs,
**** jail…

emkhan
12-17-2011, 03:06 PM
A very interesting word I found there "Lullaby".
In Pashto we call it "Lilalo"
Our mothers sing to it to the child to make it sleep.
Lilalo sha Lilalo... Can someone sing that song fully ? I have forgot.

Subhan
12-17-2011, 03:10 PM
A very interesting word I found there "Lullaby".
In Pashto we call it "Lilalo"
Our mothers sing to it to the child to make it sleep.
Lilalo sha Lilalo... Can someone sing that song fully ? I have forgot.

In our dialect, it's called "lalo".
Urdu and Farsi also have similar words.

I was referring to a poem in Pashto that goes something like:

"Sta di lalo sandara zma kala herezi, more".

Subhan
12-18-2011, 06:18 PM
Every single thing in the universe seems to go bad around me,
But its bigger than this, this is not even about me,
And yet these mother****ers with their questions are always willing to surround me,
At the first opportunity they get and then astound me,
I fell head first from heaven onto the cold concrete,
It rained tears that night but blood would have been more dramatic still,
Anyway, I was eating, drinking or smoking some **** when Cupid found me,
And shot me with an arrow that got lodged into my bone marrow,
I remember this her, she was my first true love,
Her real name was Sarah but to me she was proof that there is a God above,
I tried to give her a peace offering; like a dove,
But all that came out of my pockets was a piece of old rubber that I presumed was a glove,
Then this girl got away, my second, third and fourth loves would have been four more stories if my broken heart was a house,
But it’s not, it’s a temple where satanic rituals are abused and you better stay away, lest I find out where you live and sacrifice your spouse,
Your children's blood would soon become the Last Supper for the devil that dwells within me, because it would soon take control and I'd try to have it exorcised by halfhearted and hypocritical priests, then the ceremony backfires.

faye
12-18-2011, 06:21 PM
yikes!

Subhan
12-18-2011, 06:25 PM
yikes!

Exactly.

Now you know how I feel sometimes.

faye
12-18-2011, 06:30 PM
yikes!

Subhan
12-18-2011, 06:39 PM
One moment I was knocking on the gates of heaven desperate to enter as if my life depends on it,

The next thing I know is that the angels flicked me down and I fell through the center of the Earth and made amends on it,

It soon became clear that my worth and the ritual of birth are no more and none less important than a social networking website and the latest trends on it,

Regardless of the path you choose to walk on, its girth, or the fact that the devil made bends on it,

Regardless of the road, the end remains the same; eternal love between two minds as described in the hundred and sixteenth sonnet,

Regardless of the destination, I (the traveller) will never forget where I came from and will always yield a tawiz bearing the name of Almighty Allah on a humble string and tie the ends on it,

Say Bismillah; feel my heart at peace, put it around my neck and don it,

An ideal solution to the war over oil going on in the Midle East would be to light a match and drop it in a well, burn with intense heat, full fire and flavour like the type of pepper known as the Scotch Bonnet,

This wisdom I possess is a drug and I am on it.

Subhan
12-18-2011, 06:39 PM
yikes!

Yes.

faye
12-18-2011, 06:43 PM
i know how you feel. pretty good poetry. i like

Subhan
12-18-2011, 06:49 PM
i know how you feel. pretty good poetry. i like

Thank you for your compliment and sentiment.

Subhan
12-18-2011, 07:18 PM
Dear God, as I look into this glass of absinthe, I pray you'd take me away; far from here,
To The Serpent's Neck, where there is no need to fear,
It’s a star where your all dreams will systematically come true,
The views bring back all the best years of your youth and the lost atmosphere absorbs all your shed tears,
They said, “Put a smile on”, but if only there was reason,
Floods destroyed my crops, monsoon; this is the season,
Family members engulfed all our land, such is the treason,
Tell me what I've done wrong to deserve this?
I know hypocritices will try to point my sins out to their friends as they observe this,
**** them. I control my flying carpet; I can go wherever I want,
Except the past as it is not worth the night terrors when it comes back to haunt,
You are running a little late,
They say that you've successfully managed to seal your fate,
The angels flicked me off; of the gate,
“Come back when you die”, they said, it’s well worth the wait.
It was all a dream; last night/this morning I dreamt that I was at a shrine which shared land with a nightclub, the poor were paying respects to the elders buried there,
While the rich were dancing the night away sipping on vodka flavored with blueberry, without a care,
Then a woman came to me and said, “you should be ashamed of yourself”,
I asked her why, but she failed to reply; and drove away,
I ran after her, but it was fruitless,
At the same moment my spirit guide came out and showed me how to work the system with the ladies; a little smoothness.
I was a kid again at school,
This woman gave me a powder and said it was cool,
If I ate it, and I did,
Turned into a werewolf, some scary ****,
The clouds evaporated,
They grew tired of impatience, and so they waited,
But nothing happened as an hour went by,
Then suddenly, the drones came in,
Children started to cry.

faye
12-18-2011, 07:36 PM
wonderful!:thumbup:

Subhan
12-18-2011, 09:23 PM
wonderful!:thumbup:

I thank you.