TomorrowLand

His skin's peeled open 
Like that of a dead carcasses
He signed no death or pain 
Blood didn't flow out of his veins 
He just laid still smiling
At Some distant memory
He slowly turned his head
To see me for what I have done him
He had no lips but only muscle
The cartilage above and the cheeks
Slowly responded to his turning
Shaking to the jerk his turn gave
His eyes, blue as sky, shined like that of smooth beaches
In the sun, under the torch I held
My men walked back a feet
As he rose to walk to me
He felt no danger but I was handy with my sword
He walked to me close as much as an inch
Panting his fresh breath on my sweaty face
Making me calm within and throw myself
On this shoulder, I dropped my sword
And the fire onto to the floor
The last I remember was the touch of his blood filled muscle
On my tanned chins.
I felt life. Walking out of me
Slowly and with care that I don't feel the pain.
I felt life. I felt mother. I felt cleansed.
Like a baby just out of the womb
Like a seed that pushes the dust to prop out
Why did i peel him off
To give him no face
Just to find the real peace
In all this chaos of human race?

-Aroon Che

Read More

A Happy man's vent

A happy nation is not the one where its people get no need to work but is allowed to make money from the work they like to do. A Nation where the larger part of the working class is exploited to perform duties in the interest of few people is surely but Democratic. In such democracy, leaders are born out of those few rich classes but not from larger interest of people. Such a leadership will drain art, sport and other less profitable businesses from people's mind and plant greed among them which eventually kills everything's that divine. It happens for sure. Now or anytime.

-Aroon Che

Read More

Rockefeller's death

The black moon's out there 
All alone in the bright sky 
The tall factories stand here 
With the silence on every gear 
The dark stars come out of the hide 
From dungeons Walking straight into the streets
Their esteem will have no audience but will be the genesis
And their brightness is lost to shine of the pyre of materials
Into the sky up there painted with the black moon
My father will stop working in the mines
And my brother will start his real life
My mother, will no longer work for the houses And my sister will be back with no marks of knife
The mines will go dry of men
And the whites go vex of slaves
The arts will look up to my brother's hymn And the lust will not find my sisters
So the days have come
Of what we dreamt together
Every minute While resting under the parked wagons
Of the rail road companies that sold litter
Now all of them are gone
The rails and the roads,all gone
The Rockefeller left the world all alone
With all his greed wasted as wine
That never saw the light and the dine
And this is our land
Remember we shall build our mansions
On the bones of our fathers
Remember we shall farm our crops
On the soil soaked with blood of our brothers Lets be the children of God
And share the love to them The love they didn't give to us
Lets be the fathers of good
And bring the end to this mayhem
For its carries no use and sense
Look at the sky And there is a black moon Every night you pray, pray for everyone
To the Gods of some reason.

-Aroon Che

Read More

WHEN

If I could weave backwards
These lines into words
These words into letters
And these letters to emptiness,
I feel young in the imaginations
That began all this, way forward
I feel young in the reasons
That pull all this, way backward
This book was once empty
Like you and me sleeping in the wombs
But now it's old, full to brim
Like you and me in each others' dream
We never die, till we continue this sleep
Weaving back our books
To the unforgettable threads
Colourful but single
Long but simple.

-Aroon Che

Read More

TWILIGHT

I speak to the mountains
Far and high above the plains
I speak to them every day and every night
Of stories and poems
Of wars and peace
Of men and their indulgence
I speak to them in silence
Silence like singing lullabies
They listen to me with patience
They stand still all the while
But I walk around them, sit down sometimes
By the oak tree and take a nap
They wait for me till I wake up
To continue my stories and poems
They grew young and I grew old in years
But we never stopped these meetings
Until one day when I ran out of words.
The mountains looked down to me
With frowning foreheads
And adjusted their throats a little
Clearing the fog to get some space
I looked at them with a face of child
Like the ones waiting for the evening fables
O' son, they began with voice of god
Like the one from the Greek mythologies
O' son, we have grown up so old
To come down to you and play for while
We like your stories and poems, shared
We listened to them all our time
But the moment has come to depart
We cannot have you all the time at feet,
Do climb us, take some chance
And walk beyond us
Walk to the new worlds
And meet people to make new friends.
Walk to the needy and the weak
And help them get what they seek
Walk to the guilty and restless
And preach them the lessons of faith and forgiveness
Walk to every corner of the world
But not just around our feet
Because good things are not for us alone
They should belong to everyone with a beautiful heart
Your stories are not for who can hear
But for those who cant listen
They are not for who can speak
But for those who cant shout
They are not for who can see
But for those who cant perceive
They are not for who can sense
But for those who cant feel.
Walk ahead my son, the world is waiting
Walk beyond us and help the dying.
They bid me a leave and lost into the night
Making the way for me to burn the new light.

-Aroon Che

Read More