Shahriar Shahriari

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Poems - Soul Journey - Group 4
The Void

 

  1. Emptiness
  2. The Cage
  3. The Game of Life
  4. What Now?
  5. Why
  6. Soul sickness

 


Emptiness

I look ahead
All seems dead
Bank account red
Winning no bread.
Business none
Income gone
Liquidate
Major asset.
Have no job
Will not rob;
No love life
No future wife,
No lover
Who'll cover
In her arms
With her charms
Tightly hold
I behold.
Every aspect
My prospect
Dead and blank
Empty tank,
No potential
Existential
Future hold
All untold
Will unfold
Base and gold.
For my part
In my heart
Future of mine
Will be fine;
As for now
I just bow,
Simply pause
Wait for cause,
One step take
Future make
Step by step
Step by step.

I did try
To just die
Empty my cup
And won't stop
Until God
On me nod;
Fill my cup
To the top
With God's grace
Me embrace.
At this time,
Stage prime,
Cup empty
I set free.
Future blank
I give thank
At any rate
I now wait
Do what's right
All my might
At a high cost
I just trust.

Shahriar Shahriari
Vancouver, Canada
May 9, 1997


The Cage

At least a good part of its age
The dove had spent inside a cage
Until the cage subdued its rage

Although dove was able to fly
Inside the cage would only lie
And through the beams look at the sky

Until one day turned a new page
A passer by opened the cage
And suddenly changed the stage

Yet fearful dove would deny
That its freedom was nearby
If only it tried to fly

In spite of our displayed outrage
Fear creates an invisible cage
Imprisoning even the sage

The only way freedom we buy
Is our inner fears defy
Out of our cage try to fly.

Unless our fears directly engage
We will remain inside our cage;
And thus our life will pass us by
In fear remain until we die!

Shahriar Shahriari
Vancouver, Canada
October 16, 1998


The Game of Life

In the middle of the night on the plane
In total darkness I am caught in the game
Of life. From playing this I refrain
Existence, this unknown, by any name.
These thoughts through my head, a passing train
Playing, not playing, it’s all the same.
To play is to be trapped in my mortal chain
To depart is to negate, the game to blame.
In this unknown I can only feel my pain,
Patiently wait for the dawn, impotent, lame.
Helpless and angry with God, I complain
Why then futile pursuit of such a game?
From darkness to darkerness, despair, disdain
From void to emptiness, no sense, no shame.
Perhaps dawn will end this insane game;
But for now darkness and void I entertain.

Shahriar Shahriari
Vancouver, Canada
January 8, 1999


What Now?

They say that I fell from the Garden of Paradise
I don’t believe;
That my thoughts will make my state look very nice
My pain relieve;
All I need to do is ask, call my own price,
And then receive;
Yet Reality behaves and operates on its own device,
Theories deceive.
My drowning boat repair, once, twice, thrice
It’s like a sieve;
Try to force things to happen, pick-ax on ice
Yet can’t achieve.
The hands of time force a play, my life like dice,
Time is furtive.
No matter thoughts how nice, what my price, goodness or vice
Fate assertive;
No matter how I try, the hands of fate bribe, entice,
Autonomy can’t retrieve;
My only hope, the Divine, my life’s bitter-sweet spice
Reprimand, then reprieve.

Shahriar Shahriari
Vancouver, Canada
January 14, 1999


Why?

Fish swim, even though they don’t know why
Animals after their food search and pry
Birds fly, nowhere to go except the sky
We, humans, only try, try, try, try!
Angels with all creatures laugh and cry
And the Big Boss on the Throne, brings up a sigh
Thinking all these creatures do, is multiply;
With the Wheel of Fortune, they rise up high
And the descent to the bottom cannot defy.

The question I have is why? why, why, why?
Why am I born? Why live? And why die?
What is Thy Will with which I should comply?
Tell me God, who are you? And who am I?
For long I awaited God’s reply
In silence, all I hear is my own sigh!

Perhaps even the Gods don’t know why
So the joke is on us who live and die.
This Cosmic Joke, none will deny
Yet I look upon life with serious eye.

If joy and bliss is the goal, then tell me why
Tell me God, why should I, myself deny
Joy here, comfort here, before I die?
Why then through such hardship put myself I?

If there is a path in life, where does it lie?
I’m tired, help me God, and bring it by.
No path I can see with my eye, though I try;
Can both the open and closed eye, lie?

Tell me, God most High, tell me why?
Tell me why, in my life, I should try?

Shahriar Shahriari
Vancouver, Canada
January 14, 1999


Soul Sickness

Soul Sickness can’t be cured with effort or will
Something else is needed if the soul is ill.
Climbing mountains high, or even a hill
Going through some kind of boot-camp drill
Will only distract, or at best, hours fill;
For Soul Sickness, there is no magic pill.

What the sick soul needs is time to be still
Empty itself from all, be naught and nil;
Until Grace of God, soul’s soil may till
And sow seeds of life, reap, take to the mill.

Shahriar Shahriari
Vancouver, Canada
January 14, 1999


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