I Almost Gave In

I Almost Gave In
I Almost Lost This Day
Almost Got To Me Into The Air
My Hands Tossed
Almost Walked Away
Almost Cried
Almost Threw Caution Into The Wind
Happiness For Myself I Almost Denied
Almost…
Then…
I Felt A Brush Of Love Againt My Face
Wings Wrapped Around Me In A Warm Embrace
I Heard A Whisper Into My Ear….
Dont Giveup, I’m Rite Here

Jun, 17 2010 356 chars (3 sms) 3510 views English Poetry

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Each Person Has A

Each Person Has A Different Path To The Friend’s Neighborhood

We exchanged reason for love.
Everybody is a buyer of a different good.

The mystic’s design and mark is distinct,
A different bazaar, a different shop.

It’s a different journey, a distinct world.
It’s different from this world and the other world.

Those on the land are unaware of those in the air.
A good from Ethiopia is different from one from Central Asia.

One who is in the sea is ignorant of some one who is in the desert.
Everybody is the king of his own city.

Majnun is drunk from

Majnun is drunk from love, and Layla is drunk from coyness.
The mountain existed and this madman also existed.

The eyes of beauties were drunken and murderous.
Her tongue was like sugar, and her lips the confectioner.

The suffering boy and the loving girl existed,
the tyrant father and miser mother were also there.

That teasing that breaches faith,
the arrow of coy that pierces the soul,

It was not that Mazun was targeted last night,
the arrow was there and the target was there.

It is Love

It is Love
that gives me purpose
to change and grow and learn.
It is Love that guides me on this path
and helps me choose each turn.

It is Love
that gives me courage
to stand against my fears;
to open up my heart to you,
to let you see my tears.

It is Love
that gives me trust and hope
when little thing go wrong.
When distance stands between us,
it is Love that keeps me strong.

It is Love
that offers harmony
and a friendship that is true.
How wonderful that I can share
a Love like this with you... ;->

Hours Pass By

Hours Pass By

I think of u in my arms
and what it would be like 2 make love
I think of u raising my SEED
and what they d be made of
I think of how alone I was
before u came 2 be
I think of the joy I felt
when u said u thought of me
I?m proud 2 be the heart u
choose 2 make a friend
hours pass by and cupid cries
until we meet again

I Cry Sometimes Whe

I Cry
Sometimes When I''m Alone
I Cry,
Cause I Am On My Own.
The Tears I Cry Are Bitter And Warm.
They Flow With Life But Take No Form
I Cry Because My Heart Is Torn.
I Find It Difficult To Carry On.

If I Had An Ear To Confiding,
I Would Cry Among My Treasured Friend,
But Who Do You Know That Stops That Long,
To Help Another Carry On.

The World Moves Fast And It Would Rather Pass By.
Then To Stop And See What Makes One Cry,
So Painful And Sad.
And Sometimes…
I Cry
And No One Cares About Why.

At every sunset

At every sunset, I cry and plead
Slow and just living, and yet I bleed
With angst, do I cry, take me home.
Please take me away from this old age home.

some say love

some say love it is a river,
that drowns the tender reed.
some say love it is a razor,
that leaves ur soul to bleed.
some say love it is a hunger,
an endless aching need.
BUT !!
i say love it is a flower,
n u r its only seed.

Fears wash away

Fears wash away from one single touch
Longing to be closer so to your waist I clutch
I shuffle my feet closer to the edge
Fears resurfacing, I can''t fall from this ledge
But then you take my hand into yours, what a sensation!
I peer over the edge for a look at sweet temptation

To Keep suppressing this feeling is to keep telling lies
I don''t feel frightened when you look into my eyes
I lean over the edge just a little more
I hear you call my name again just like before
If I should let go and fall from this ledge above
Tell me, will you reach out and catch me if I fall in love?

Because of you

Because of you I chose exile,
I’ve been estranged from my tribe for some time.

I watered my flower with my tears,
Injustice! Don’t take me away from my flower.

There’s nothing wrong if a king wants a pauper,
If a pauper desires a king, he can’t help it.

My desire is too high; my luck is too low,
There is no cure for this pain but death.

What’s with the melancholic ascetic?
He argues with me about faith and religion.

The religion of the lover is the beloved.
I’m taking no path but my own.

I roam by day

I roam by day, in search of shady trees
In between these huge palaces of stone
A shady place to sleep time and sun away
and then return to that old cold stone.
And to dream, looking at the mocking stars.

The sun slowly peeps at me, smiling
and I naughtily show my back to him
The world starts running around quickly
And tries to wake me up, but in vain
All I know and have, is my sleep galore.

These few lines, for those homeless friends, who sleep on the streets, these few lines, for our helplessness on seeing them. These few lines for their prayers and our reasons.

How come I don''t

How come I don''t know my own pain?
I''m the doctor and the remedy myself.

I wandered around the universe.
For the friend''s sake I have broken my heart.

Oh poor me! I didn''t know
I ''m the beloved and the lover myself.

Mazun, I made myself degraded.
I chose to be in love.

I gave my sole to the beloved.
Soul myself, devotee myself.

The past time has

The past time has
departed, so that it no
longer is; and the future is
not in existence,
in that it has not yet
arrived. And even the
present is not... in that it
does not abide. For see-
ing that the present does
not stand fast, and does
not abide even for an in-
stant, how can it be said
to be present, when it
cannot stand fast for one
moment?

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I Almost Gave In

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