I stand at the edge

I stand at the edge straight as a board
Overwhelmed by my fears my desires ignored
I reach out my hands only to hold myself back
My mind racing sorting fiction from fact
My head lifts and eyes brighten when I hear you call
Still I remain motionless, I don''t wanna fall

I''m afraid, but what exactly am I afraid of?
My heart shutters at the thought of falling in love
Overcome by fear I remain completely still
My emotions can''t deepen if I refuse to feel
Once again my name escapes from your lips
I feel the gentle brush of your sweet fingertips

Jun, 17 2010 560 chars (4 sms) 2657 views English Poetry

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You’re welcome sit down here

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

The day I met u

The day I met u I saw strength
and I knew from that point on
that u were pure woman 2 me
possessing a spirit that was strong
I want smiles 2 replace the sorrow
that u have encountered in the past
and since it was strength that attracted me 2 u
it will take strength 2 make it last
My negative side will attempt 2 change u
but please fight that with your all
it will be your strength that keep us both standing
while others around us fall

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.

As I walk through

As I walk through the valley
of the shadow of LA
The footsteps that were next to me
have gone their separate ways
I''ve seen enough now
to know that beautiful things
don''t always stay that way
I''ve done enough now
to know this beautiful place
isn''t everything they say

Fight

Fight
We have to fight
If we wanna live it right
We have to look at the sky
Invaded with the sun light
...We have to go for our dream
...Without perhaps or might
And when we reach
We have to fight
To avoid falling
From such a big height

I didn’t decide to

I didn’t decide to carry the load of sorrow,
sorrow existed, this house of sorrow also existed.

I didn’t lift the Jam-e Jam to drink wine,
wine existed, this house of wine also was there.

It is said: "He who created the house of love,
let the beloved burn and the lover burnt."

The cruelty of the red rose, and the cry of the nightingale—
the candle existed, and this moth also existed.

One’s pain is too much, another’s little,
one’s heart is afflicted, another’s smiles.

if one day you

if one day you feel like crying...
call me.
i dont promise you that i will male you laugh,
but i can cry with you.

if one day you want to run away....
dont be a afraid to call me.
i dont promise to ask you to stay,
but i can run with you..

if one day you dont want to listen to anybody,
call me...

i promise to be very quiet.

but
if one day you call me
and there is no answer....

come fast to see me,
perhaps i need you.

You can shed tears

“You can shed tears that she is gone,
or you can smile because she has lived.
You can close your eyes and pray that she''ll come back,
or you can open your eyes and see all she''s left.
Your heart can be empty because you can''t see her,
or you can be full of the love you shared.
You can turn your back on tomorrow and live yesterday,
or you can be happy for tomorrow because of yesterday.
You can remember her only that she is gone,
or you can cherish her memory and let it live on.
You can cry and close your mind,
be empty and turn your back.
Or you can do what she''d want:
smile, open your eyes, love and go on.”

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.

My love for you

My love for you is simple, deep, and strong.
I feel it flowing towards you from my heart,
A tide of unsophisticated song,
Sung with much desire and little art.
I cannot tell my love, but it will show
In ways that even I cannot foresee;
A love as full as mine must overflow
Into everything that makes me, me.
Just as the sun must shine to be the sun
And trees burst forth in blossom every year,
So I must love in ways that everyone
Can see or sense or reason out or hear.
Still, I''ll tell you of my love in this:
For fear, despite all, you might my love miss.

I don''t think you

I don''t think you will
ever fully understand
how you''ve touched my life
and made me who I am.

I don''t think you could ever know
just how truly special you are
that even on the darkest nights
you are my brightest star.

I don''t think you will ever fully comprehend
how you''ve made my dreams come true
or how you''ve opened my heart
to love and the wonders it can do.

You''ve allowed me to experience
something very hard to find
unconditional love that exists
in my body, soul, and mind.

I don''t think you could ever feel
all the love I have to give
and I''m sure you''ll never realize
you''ve been my will to live.

You are an amazing person
and without you I don''t know where I''d be.
Having you in my life
completes and fulfills every part of me.

On your knee

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.

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I stand at the edge

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