When you were born

When you were born
When you were born,
you were crying
and everyone around you was smiling,
live your life so that when you die,
you''re smiling
and everyone around you is crying.
  

Jun, 17 2010     166 chars (2 sms)     3720 views       English Poetry

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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?
Beloved''s Manifestation

One who is eager for love,
the beloved''s manifestation is in his soul.

In his existence there is the sign,
in his bones, marrow, and blood.

Is the beloved a houri or a human?
Venus, the sun, or the moon?

My beloved, in short,
is neither from the earth, nor from the sky.

Day by day my beloved''s beauty becomes more elegant.
Moment by moment I become more saddened.

My beloved is closer to me than myself,
Yet, I don''t know where my beloved is.

One who has reason and knowledge,
becomes intimate with someone of his kind.

I, helpless and Majnun-like,
have become accustomed to the desert.
I had once thought
that maybe this was life.
No love, no hate, no feelings.
My deepest feelings would never be shared.
I was so frightened;
I didn''t know what to do.
Scared of this one man all my life.
Face my fear, I told myself!
But it''s so hard, so confusing.
Do you know what it''s like
to wonder in darkness?
It never stops, never ends.
It goes on like a story with no ending.
Do you know how it feels
to be afraid of something
that you can''t do anything about?
That you didn''t ask for or even think about?
Do you know what it''s like? Do you know how it feels?
It''s complete and pure emptiness!
May you always have...
Enough happiness to keep you sweet,
Enough trials to keep you strong,
Enough sorrow to keep you human,
Enough hope to keep you happy,
Enough failure to keep you humble,
Enough success to keep you eager,
Enough friends to give you comfort,
Enough wealth to meet your needs,
Enough enthusiasm to look forward,
Enough determination to make
Each day better than yesterday!
Why

Oh God, one cannot argue with you, but,
why did you throw us in the fire of love?

You formed us with your power, and water and clay.
Why did you create the moon-like beauties?

You made eyebrows into pens, and locks of hair into lassos.
You made sugar-water limpid from sweet lips.

If you wanted me not to become afflicted and degraded,
why did you create lovesick girls?

If you wanted submission and prayers,
you would not have given beauties coquetry and coyness.

If false love is a sin,
why did you make drunkard eyes drunk?
You’re welcome sit down here
Between welcome and farewell I sat there
She starts to click her fingers and toes
Music Music out of this noise
My ears assured me and even nose
...Perfume tidiness cleanliness are highlighted
As well as their papers lit Phosphorus
No more mess, no more Chaos in this chorus
She and she and she are the tops of the hierarchy
Infected us with Poise that topples our anarchy
Now it’s clear that King Lear was right
In his abundance of the Monarchy
For the benefit of two girls
Since oranges can’t be compared to apples
Thanks to their Oranges’ Adam’ apple
Reflections of a Beautiful Morning

The sun rises above the hillcrest,
As does the joy of my heart;
Rays of warmth and love,
From her I will never depart.

Fresh dew upon the grass,
Young birds chirp in their nests;
I watch her gently sleep,
My love to her I silently profess.

I enjoy the stillness and calm,
Watching as she smiles and dreams;
She brings me to stillness and peace,
Like that of a slow flowing stream.

My heart and soul flow with love,
And I smile as I quietly reflect;
I’ve been handed a sweet princess,
A sweet princess to love and to protect.

A vow to myself I make,
As she quietly sleeps away;
To love and always cherish her,
Until my last breath... until my last day.
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.
Once all EMOTIONS
decided to play
Hide n Seek

PAIN started counting
...n All Other were hiding.

LIE hid near the tree..
LOVE cudn''t get a place
to hide so he hid himself
in a Rose bush..
Everyone was caught
except LOVE
But
MADNESS told PAIN abt
LOVE..
PAIN jumped in d bush n
whn came out LOVE lost
his eyes coz of the thorns..

Then GOD cursed PAIN n
he was ordered 2 b wid
LOVE 4ever.

Since then..

"LOVE is BLIND n always
accompanied by PAIN"
“ The future is yours…….It belongs to you
With faith in God and in yourself too
No hills too high, no mountains too tall
With faith in the lord ……you can conquer them all.“
Who Is Here? Who Is There?

In the Garden, when the autumn wind blows,
In the bird’s voice there is wailing and lamentation.

In the lovesick nightingale’s song there is a call,
with a different effect, a different mark.

Still, the nightingale is yearning for the love of the flower.
Still, the salamander is nesting in the oven.

Still, Mansur is hanging on the gallows.
He says: “I’m the Truth,” yet the secret (truth) is hidden.

Still, Zulaykha is not afraid of rebuke.
Still, Yusuf is evading Zulaykha.

Still, the Christian maiden is breaching Sheikh San’an''s faith.
Still, the Sheikh is tending her swine.
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.