STARVING ARTIST

My cry is the hardest

My laugh the loudest

I am the black and white keys

With a variation of melodies

Inspiration is my pianist

And soul is his vocalist

She hits high and low notes

As I make her heart of hope my life line

On which I write my next rhyme

I suspend your thoughts over the edge 

of adventure I compose in prose.

With pen and ink I turn this page into a fragrant rose

And that page into a current of clamouring courage.

I am a book whose cover has never been known

And yet in whose pages endless faces and ages are shown,

Fragments of mysteries are thrown

That turn into puddles in which masses drown.

I am the voice that flies from an ocean of potent emotions  

Though not just a writer

I opt to write over being an average Nine-to-fiver

Underpaid, overworked depression wrecked

I evolve on the escarpment of endless expression,

I pay dearly for my transgression of social deformity

I am a starving artist

My love is the brightest and fullest moon

My depressions are dark and empty

Like the spaces between the stars

I am the hide stretched over the hollow bark.

Drama drums delightfully on my chest
as her emotions burst and overwhelm me,

Flooding every inch of my skin with music 
and yet I am dying of thirst for another vibrant verse, 

these sounds bounce inside the walls of my life

And so into the wilderness of melody my soul carries my feet.

All is brought to life by the beats that I breathe.

Hungry eyes devour my delicious dance with romance...

I am the droplets from the divine music of the abstract

Though not a dancer I opt to dance

Over being a puppet of idiotic -isms and deceptive constructs

I pay dearly for my transcendence of social conformity

I am a starving artist

My sight cuts through layers and sees 
acres upon acres inside that wrinkled mind.

I float between the messages that are sung to my senses

I am struck off from the world wide web Of I want - type of thoughts.

The sky is in my heart, my heart in the sky

Now you know my reason to smile.

Along many paths I walked,

Along the miles with many souls I spake:

The children told of Magical dreams that flow like silver streams
What beautiful dreams

The King told of the burdens that burnt his sleep 
and made his heart weep, shackles that even a slave would not keep

The playful youth immersed in the beauty of the beloved, 
explained how at the sight of love

The world turned him into a sculptor of poetry.

The Princess explained the piercing pain she felt 
as the ageless mirror stole her royal charm.

The mother spoke of how the pain of birth showers an ocean 
of love for her child a language of sacred conversations by the constellations.

The drunkard soberly spoke of the sorrows that stained his soul, 
He mentioned that no matter how much he drank 
the emotions he bottled kept his cup full.

The wise woman explained how futile the tree of wisdom was

If it did not flower with good actions and did not bear sincere fruit.

The Imaam put into perspective the consequences

Of this action and that action

And yet confessed that Allah knows best.

The Fool lamented that his regret caused him to regress and wished

That he had followed the direction of deeper reflection...

And so you see from the kaleidoscope of my conversations,

Much colour has been brought to my attention.

Carefully crushed and mixed with the water from my being,

I project these pastel perceptions of self 
and flashes of the universe on the face of the earth

Though not just a painter I choose to paint over

Being a dusty portrait of self pity

I pay dearly for my animated sketches of speechless sights.  

I am a starving artist.

And though my stomach is empty

I make the belly of your soul heavy

Though my attire is tattered

The garb of my soul is golden

My wealth will not wrinkle

I am the poet's powerful pulse

The Sufi's sacred scent

The Lantern's luminous light

The single soul

That is known

In the breath of countless cultures

The abstract that is never absent

My poverty is a thick veil

That stands between

You and a marvellous universe

I am an artist

It is you that starves.