I don''t know what

I don''t know what
I don''t know what it is
that is making me fall for you.
There is just something,
something hidden within.
You are starting to mean a lot,
I hope things turn out good,
no matter what happens.
In all ways-
You will still be my friend.
I have come to know you,
you are a really fun person.
I am tired of hearing bad things
and they are all about you.
I don''t believe any of them,
because I believe you.
You would be my first boyfriend,
I wouldn''t mind that being you.
So come into my life,
as if it were yours.
You are welcome to my heart,
as long as you don''t break it.
You break it, you buy it.
  

Jun, 17 2010     619 chars (4 sms)     2295 views       English Poetry

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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.
Daydream

Whenever I day dream,
and day dream I do,
in my secret garden,
I day dream of you.

I day dream of you,
in a faraway land;
embracing me tight
and holding my hand.

Holding my hand,
and touching my face.
Just you and me,
in this peaceful place.

In this peaceful place
a pristine river flows.
Where the unicorns run,
a breeze always blows.

A breeze always blows
and sings of a song;
our love in a place
where you''re never gone.

Where you''re never gone
is as it would seem,
from dusk until dawn,
whenever I day dream.

And whenever I day dream,
and day dream I do,
in my secret garden,
I day dream of you.

The sweet laughter—I didn’t love in vain.
I didn’t graft reason onto love.

She pulls me, she pulls me with her lasso-like braid.
How could I be separated from her ambergris-scented hair?

Peris, lovely, tall beauties –
Mazun won’t refuse if they want his soul.

I’ve put my head in their path.
My head’s bad luck is because of my tongue.
One lover is roaring.
He is eager to see a shining face.

Another is distressed,
keen to see her lustrous hair.

Another desires his lover’s breasts.
Describes them as ripe pomegranates,
Hails them improperly,
Praises apples of Isfahan.

One lover says: "My beloved is going away.
My liver''s blood became my wine.
From my cry the world became deaf.
Is this friend in the grinding mill?"

Mine is above all others'' loves.
He is dear, a husband to widows.

He knows everything,
whether the meaning or the expression.

The light of his candle doesn''t vanish.
He is the beloved, I''m the lover.

He is the ocean, Mazun the fish,
How wonderful, what an endless sea he is.
But human mind is often a monkey
It jumps and hops towards success and it''s key
As guinea pigs we go on and on
thru the tedious cycle of life rite from the time we were born
We never know our way nor our destination
But man goes on with God as prime stimulation
Realise that life isn''t constant dying and learn to honour fraternity
And indeed life is a "gift snatched frm eternity"
It Takes Time To Heal

Build A Bridge
From Now To Tommorow
Sink d Piers
Deep Into d Earth
Pour In Concrete
Day By Day
A Little A Time
& Let It Set

It Takes Time To Heal

It May Feel Very Awkward
As If You''re Making Empty Promises
As If You''re Simply Spanning Empty Space

But Someday,Somehow,Somewhere
You''ll Find Yourself
Upon A Brand New Shore
Glancing Back At The Bridge
Which You Alone Have Built

It Takes Time To Heal (:
On your knee, in the lamplight,
dipping buttered toast in your coffee,
I hear the hush of the silent house.
The other children gone off to school,
you and I sit together
alone in the dim morning light,
full of love and trust,
chattering to one another about
simple times with unfurrowed brows.
We were so close then.
I hold that memory in my mind
like an old black and white photograph
one would carry in a wallet, worn soft
from years of riding in a back pocket,
a photo
showing the ones you love,
the most beautiful mother,
the best loved and dearest held,
the treasured one--
to be shown far from home.
The past
is an archive of events
even when I die,
you turn back your neck
and I''ll eternally
have what came
before

and there''s somewhere
somewhere a man
singing softly
unique and parched
it''s all the pain
holding her
in my arms

Vessel to the words
he can''t see before
before the chords

Maddened by a red sun
skeptical
going on through this
and behind
a wagging tail
the sands continue
to sift

A little past
the way we were
And then, by that
will always be...!!!
SHAKESPEARE SAYS,
"It is not necessary to share
everything between true friends.
But it is necessary
that what you share must be true."
It was an ordinary day
I was caught in my routine when
Suddenly something made me think of you.

I paused for a moment n smiled.

It was no longer an ordinary day....;->
This is True Luv:
I don''t care how many
lips u''ve kissed, how
many shoulders u''ve
embraced & how many
times u''ve said,I Luv U!
All I care is not b d first
but to be ur last!
It makes me gloomy
It makes me cry
That you are a charmer & your love was a lie ...

You''re my love & without you
I''LL DIE ... I''LL DIE ...

But now waves of time has shown me tha path
It''s not death, where I want to resort ...

My lovely anguish told me to what to do?

I DON''T LOVE YOU BUT
I LOVE TO ABHOR YOU ...