Daffodils

The waves beside them danced, but they

....Out-did the sparkling waves in glee;

A poet could not but be gay,

...In such a jocund company:

I gazed--and gazed--but little thought

What wealth the show to me had brought:

For oft, when on my couch I lie

...In vacant or in pensive mood,

They flash upon that inward eye

...Which is the bliss of solitude;

And then my heart with pleasure fills,

And dances with the daffodils.

Jun, 18 2010 456 chars (3 sms) 3687 views English Poetry

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You wonder if its

You wonder if its real
how do you know it''s true?
sorry honey,
I can''t answer that for you

but Ill ask you some questions
lets see how you do,
lets see if this guy
is really right for you

ok, what do you see
when you look into his eyes?
can you imagine if
he wasn''t in your life?

do you get butterflies
when you hear his name?
does he tell you all the time
that he feels the same?

do you restless
every second your apart?
last one girl,
can you feel it in your heart?

People frm every walk of life

People frm every walk of life
Envisage victory and strife
But at some point u find
Tardiness in ur life and mind
Your life stops and comes to an end
And u are in oblivion with nothing to fight for or defend
Anything may stimulate it
Personal loss or a jobles status maybe fit
But such a break from your daily buzz
Lets u rethink on your deed with not much fuss
then u realise that all those painstaking days
With pangs of emotion ,joy and anger has left u frail
Making u maudlin and in a state of enigma
U wail out unconsciously ''Oh Ma...''
Then u wonder y u were ever born
Is it to end up like this ,hopeless and forlorn???
U ponder over your contribution to the world
Then as u go deeper to the murky mind,u even question the existence of such a world

Beloved''s Manifestation

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.

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.

My Pillow gaze

My Pillow gazes upon me at night

Empty as a gravestone;

I never thought it would be so bitter

To be alone,

Not to lie down asleep in your hair.

I lie alone in a silent house,

The hanging lamp darkened,

And gently stretch out my hands

To gather in yours,

And softly press my warm mouth

Toward you, and kiss myself, exhausted and weak-

Then suddenly I''m awake

And all around me the cold night grows still.

The star in the window shines clearly-

Where is your blond hair,

Where your sweet mouth?

Now I drink pain in every delight

And poison in every wine;

I never knew it would be so bitter

To be alone,

Alone, without you.

~Tough Time Don''t Last~

~Tough Time Don''t Last~

I said
"Sometimes I fail"
HE said
"I''ll see you through"
I said
"But what if I fall?"
HE said
"I''ll carry you"

I said
"My fears r gr8"
HE said
"Trust me alone"
I said
"But I''m depressed"
HE said
"I''ll cheer you on"

I said
"Life isn''t easy"
HE said
"Please, let Me help.
Remember, I love you"
I said
"GOD, I accepted" ...

I saw in a bird the instinct of love

I saw in a bird the instinct of love
And in her daughter I saw the Need
Her mother is the only source
By which she can feed
And I need you, in your land there was my seed
......So why cruelty is the only thing in your eyes
That I can read

A life of dreams to

A life of dreams to yet unfold.
Each passing day as we grow old.
We are but one, as we learn to walk Still,
very little as we start to talk.
By the age of five, to school we go,
To learn much more that we don''t know.
As we hit ten, our world''s the books;
Just turn the page and take a look...

My sweetest memory

My sweetest memory-UR msg!

My biggest sadness-The distance!

My biggest hope-i wil c u soon!

My strongest prayer-r relation continues 4ever

i sit in the park

i sit in the park where i dwell,
for this girl i love so well.
she took my heart away from me,
now she wants to set me free.

i see a boy on her lap,
she says things to him she never said to me.
i ran home to cry on my bed,
not a word to mother was said.

father came home late that night,
he looked at me from left to right.
he saw me hanging from rope,
he took his knife to cut me down,
and on my dress a note was found.

dig my grave,dig it deep.
dig my grave, from head to feet.
and on the top place a dobe.
and remember this, i did for love.

Like the small

Like the small flowers of green thick hills
With fragrance, did her words; bloom
Wild yet passionate in love, are the tribal''s
So was hers, for them and theirs

Sad was her heart, at the jungle''s ruin
Starved was her pen, of any words
To the children, she lent a voice, therein
To save the jungle, her poetry and birds

While planting seeds, with hope they croon
Cast your magic, of life, dearest monsoon
As the clouds poured, and lent some life
To life, the jungle sprang, and they all sang

Like the mother herself, she nursed and cared
Days later, the deers came smiling
For lifetimes, shall the tribals sing, her praise
Her story of life, her pen; still flowing.

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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Daffodils

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