Why Oh God

Why Oh God
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?
  

Jun, 18 2010     554 chars (4 sms)     3906 views       English Poetry

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Life taught me many things,
Some sweet moments some bitter ones,
Some I remember some I forgot,
But what remained always was our precious friendship.
Today is filled with anger, fueled with hidden hate.
Scared of being outkast, afraid of common fate.
Today is built on tragedies which no one wants to face.
Nightmares to humanity and morally disgraced.
Tonight is filled with rage, violence in the air.
Children bred with ruthlessness cause no one at home cares.
Tonight I lay my head down but the pressure never stops,
knawing at my sanity, content when I m dropped.
But tomorrow I see a change, a chance to build anew,
built on Spirit, intent of heart, and ideas based on truth.
Tomorrow I wake with second wind and strong ideas of pride.
I know I fought with all my heart to keep the dream alive
The Sweetest words ever said
by a lover to his love:
I am jealous of the people you ever hugged,
because for a moment they held my world!
For you I would climb
The highest mountain peak
Swim the deepest ocean
Your love I do seek.

For you I would cross
The rivers most wide
Walk the hottest desert sand
To have you by my side.

For you are the one
Who makes me whole
You''ve captured my heart
And touched my soul.

For you are the one
That stepped out of my dreams
Gave me new hope
Showed me what love means.

For you alone
Are my reason to live
For the compassion you show
And the care that you give.

You came into my life
And made me complete
Each time I see you
My heart skips a beat.

For you define beauty
In both body and mind
Your soft, gentle face
More beauty I''ll ne''er find.
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.
Your feeling is depressed... You always seem to be depressed and cry easily. You
are a bit (ok, more than a bit) over
emotional and are too sensitive. You rarely
smile, and when you do, it''s very weak...
your eyes always seem to be misty and though
others have tried to console you of your
sorrow in the past, no one can seem to get
through to you that there''s more to life than
being sad. No no one seems to hang around you
anymore which makes you feel worse, and you
feel as you''re loved by no one except maybe
your family. People might see you as the
"girl who doesn''t talk to anyone",
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.
A wonderful romance……a fairy tale…….
Matching interests and passionate songs…….
Endless talks and common visions………
Dreamy eyes and sleepless nights……..
Amorous hearts and restless minds ……
Engrossed lovers and teaser chums……
An impetuous proposal and a bedazzled yes….
A home of dreams and a castle in sand……
A bunch of promises and a series of vows……
A tidal wave and a gust of wind…..
An angry thunder and a furious storm…..
A misty vision and a shadowed trail…..
A clouded sky and a moonless night…..
A crash in the rocks and a shattered ship……
Two casualties and a zillion audience….
On occasion we wonder what our purpose in life is,

We don’t listen to our inner voice, ignoring his.

Something inside propels us to act,

Yet we often fail to recognize it and simply don’t react.

Perhaps we have known all along,

But we are too afraid that we could be wrong.

We must take a chance on our given talent,

Each and every one of us can be valiant.

If we veer off track,

Something inside will pull us back.

Maybe it could be we are being tested,

So when our individual purpose becomes clear, it is not ignored or rejected.
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
"October''s The Month
When The Smallest Breeze
Gives Us A Shower
Of Autumn Leaves.
Bonfires And Pumpkins,
Leaves Sailing Down -
October Is Red
And Golden And Brown."
- Can Teach Songs

"Listen! The Wind Is Rising,
And The Air Is Wild With Leaves,
We Have Had Our Summer Evenings,
Now For October Eves!"
- Humbert Wolfe
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.