O Bearer bring the

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
  

Jun, 18 2010     761 chars (5 sms)     3048 views       English Poetry

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At every sunset, I cry and plead
Slow and just living, and yet I bleed
With angst, do I cry, take me home.
Please take me away from this old age home.
Slowly you become a memory
and start to fade away
as each week that passes by
I''m starting to feel OK

i cared about you dearly
i treated you like gold
i waited for the same
but was left out in the cold

you were mean and selfish
you treated me like dirt
you dug deeper and deeper
just to get me hurt

after everything you did
your wish didn''t come true
you will always remain a memory
but never forget i actually loved you!
“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.”
Are you still mine?
Cause there many...
Fantasies thoughts going through my head,
As all I do is think of you...
As I''ve hungered,
For your loving burning touch,
As I need your love so badly,
Now till the end of time,
I am waiting for you with open arms
To embrace you with wings of love,
To hold you deep within my soul,
To kiss you without control.
Just being near you,
And be able to behold your touch,
Takes me to another dimension,
But, time just moving so slowly,
To feel the heat of your passions.
I do want you to know...
I will always love you,
That you are all I have ever long for,
And crave, and yearn...
That you are the ANGEL of my dreams,
The one I have search all my life,
That every day, more and more,
I''m falling deeply in love with you!
One has become Moses and has seen the Beloved on Mount Sinai.
One, like Jesus, has seen the Beloved while crucified.

One has seen in the dark, another in the light.
Each person has a different path to the Friend’s neighborhood.

One becomes like soil, and kisses the threshold.
Another becomes fervent then flutters.

One, like Mazun, makes his chest a shield,
seeking the arrow of love.
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.
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.
My heart longs for you,
I want to have the feel of your arms embracing me,
Like that of an angel''s wing envoloping my soul,
With the warmth of your love.
I want to hear the whisper of your heart,
Beating ever so slightly against mine,
As we mold together,
Like the candlewax that slowly drips,
While the young lover''s explore the world of their togetherness and tender hope.
I want to be caught with you,
To fall into a surreal world,
Where time means something,
Only to those who have lost all the innocence,
That one would only be able to find,
By watching the imagination of a small child unfold before them.
I want you to love me,
Like you have loved no other.
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
Hours Pass By

I think of u in my arms
and what it would be like 2 make love
I think of u raising my SEED
and what they d be made of
I think of how alone I was
before u came 2 be
I think of the joy I felt
when u said u thought of me
I?m proud 2 be the heart u
choose 2 make a friend
hours pass by and cupid cries
until we meet again
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...!!!
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?