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) 3220 views English Poetry

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O Bearer bring the

O Bearer, bring the wine that brings joy
To increase generosity, & let perfection buoy
Give me some, for I have lost my heart
Both traits from me have kept apart
Bring the wine whose reflection in the cup
Signals to all the kings whose times are up
Give me wine, and with the reed-flute I will sing
When was Jamshid, and when Kavoos was king
Bring me the elixir whose grace and alchemy
Bestows treasures, from bonds of time sets free
Give me so they''ll open the doors once again
Of long life and the bliss that will remain
Bearer give the wine that the Holy Grail
Will make claims of sight in the Void and thus fail
Give me so that I, with the help of the Grail
All secrets, like Jamshid, themselves avail
Speak of the tale of the wheel of fate

My love is true

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 ...

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.

Who Is Here? Who Is There?

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.

So often when

So often when I am embracing you,
It seems that you exist in this world
only because of me and I exist because of you.

It''s not easy to wander in this world
and not lose one''s way,
but the greatest happiness of all
is in giving joy to one''s beloved.

And if the king can have his throne,
and if the bird can have his Spring nest,
and God can have his heaven,
then I, my sweetheart, I can have you!

Today when I signed

Today when I signed online,
I was happy and pleased to see.
That in my incoming mail,
Was a letter from you to me.
I love the mails you send me
And all of the giggles too!
But the biggest thrill of all,
Was seeing it came from you.
Now we don''t talk that much
So letters and cards say it all.
But I want you to know they''re special
No matter how big or small.
So keep the e-mail coming
I love it ever so much.
And know its really appreciated,
Whenever you keep in touch!
Miss U

The sparkle in your

The sparkle in your eye,
The warmth of your skin.
Your breath on my neck,
That quivers within.

The touch of your hand,
The smell of your hair.
The kindness in your smile,
That strength in your stare.

Your kiss on my lips,
Your body near mine.
The stroke of your touch,
That feeling inside.

The sound of your voice,
Compassion in your embrace.
The serenity in your stride,
The power in your face.

The calming of your presence,
The beating of your heart.
The promise of tomorrow,
That we may never part.

The beauty of your kiss,
and that magic in your touch.
It is for all these reasons and more,
Why I love you so much.

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 dive down the

I dive down the sea
To get u a pearl
Its enchanting beauty caught me
When it was lying inside its shell
I picked it up just for you
But when I saw the shell it was all
Alone
Its majestic ness was lost
Its beauty was caught
I got back to present it to you
But found there nobody waiting for me
I felt just the same as the shell
I lost my pearl n I was same
Nothing without u just nothing. . . . .

I FOUND YOU

I FOUND YOU
Love can be,
found in the wormth of a kiss,in a touch
or a lingering embrace….
Love can be
found in a sweet,tender glance or a
smile that laughts up the face…
Love can be
found in words softly spoken,in
comfertable silence too….
Love can be
found in any number of ways…
And I FOUND LOVE
when…..

“I FOUND YOU” I FOUND YOU
Love can be,
found in the wormth of a kiss,in a touch
or a lingering embrace….
Love can be
found in a sweet,tender glance or a
smile that laughts up the face…
Love can be
found in words softly spoken,in
comfertable silence too….
Love can be
found in any number of ways…
And I FOUND LOVE
when…..

“I FOUND YOU”

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.

Beloved''s Manifestation

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.

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I stand at the edge

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