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Wednesday, September 28, 2011

Man in blue, part 1

Man in blue, Part I
by Azly Rahman


yonder i saw a man in blue
he must have been in his late forties
he must have been there in the cold for seasons aplenty
he must have a story to tell the world anew
in between the two trees i called theos and pathos i saw him

man in blue tell me your story
though from a distance i hear your whisper
though the sands of time like a hurricane's rage awashes me afar
what burden of this world have thou been shouldering
though in deep contemplation thou sits on the throne of dignity
in between eros and thanatos thou presides
over the spirit of Man in the valley of the shadow of Death
daily it roams


though enshrined in a cold winter's day
thou giveth warmth to the heart of many
of those who seekth thee far and near
to tell the story of a thousand sorrow
to seek thine's counsel so there'll be tomorrow
thou is the beacon of hope blue man yonder
though silent as a rock carved to the shape of a spirit
mystery revealed
man in blue thou has maketh this world think asunder


thou your silence will be eternal
like the rythmns of snowflakes falling in a forest yonder
pray tell me blue man
what life is
what love is
what death means
that thou dwellest in
that thou have seen all


man in blue
how can i touch thee
when thine is a light of multicolored hues
dancing like strobes of rainbow from a distant sky
has not thine a nature?
silent as a bayou so blue
thine like a monalisa's smile chiseled
unmoving
whilst the world of them and i is a rupture
when can i ever touch thee?


man in blue
whilst the world sleeps i stand here staring at you
i really want to know you
speak to me
as i should be spoken to


even from far i can only stare at your feet
Devotion of mine to the wonders of that man in blue
like worshippers of Zeus at the feet of Olympus
like Krishna devotees dancing in Times Square
like those who scaled the heights of Machu Picchu
like fools who dived into the Dead Sea
i will stand here between eros and thanatos, theos and pathos
speak to me, man in blue

bring on

a rimbauld
a reilke.
a rendra
a neruda
a whitman
a shelley
bring on the best of sages
to spew words well-chosen, well-crafted
verses and quatrains that explode emotions
bring on the masters of the iambic pentameters
of sonnets and elegies
to describe you, man in blue
they shall never be able to define you
but speak to me like i should be spoken to

between the streets broadway and amsterdam
of this city
you sit listening to the stories of many
tales of hope and deliverance and peace and plenty
like the statue lafayette brought in honor of lady liberty
you reign supreme in that corner overlooking philosophy
you hadth cometh far, man in blue
carrying the secret you were told
as a child in a far away land
secrets upon secrets told as you reached the peak of that tree
till you were blue, dazed inbetween realities
struck unconscious no child wanted it to be

man in blue, man in blue
tell me what those secrets aplenty you hold
of this mystery of the self i too must hold
i shall be standing here still, in between these trees waiting for thee
till i turn blue like you
whilst the city snow engulfes me

man in blue what hadth silenced thee?
Will I ever be spoken to?

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