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) 3514 views English Poetry

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They could never

They could never understand
what u set out 2 do
instead they chose 2
ridicule u

when u got weak
they loved the sight
of your dimming
and flickering starlight

How could they understand what was so intricate
2 be loved by so many, so intimate

they wanted 2 c your lifeless corpse
this way u could not alter the course
of ignorance that they have set
2 make my people forget
what they have done for much 2 long
2 just forget and carry on

I had loved u forever because of who u r
and now I mourn our fallen star

I look up

I look up
as a tear rolls slowly
down my cheek
I think about better days
and wonder if I''ll feel that way again
you look at me
with those eyes I know so well
always serious, so deep and insightful
as though you''re always in control
But not today
not now
Now you look so scared
like for once you don''t have the answer
I gaze at you
looking deep into those hazel eyes
Hoping to understand
why you''ve said those things you did
I wonder for a moment
if this is all a dream
if I shall wake in the morning
and be relieved
you look at me
with a confusion I have never seen
slowly pull me towards you
and wipe the tears from my cheek
Suddenly in the distance, a shadow appears,
A tear rolls down my face and the image is clear.

Where do you run

Where do you run in such a hurry?
To the embracing arms of god,
Or to relish a feast, spread by the lord
Is there someone there to ferry?
To another bank of this mad river.

"Going Home", you say, and I stare
"What is home?", I''ve never known
"What do you do there?", I seek by my own
"It`s night!, I am going to sleep"
I died in laughter that day and my life long.

Slept, I have all this life, right here
On this solid ground, slept in peace.
No lack of mirth, in my hungry soul
No lack of bruises, on my lonely body
And, Slept I have in peace, right here.

"Why on the streets?", you demand to know
"Help yourselves", you seem to say
"Why, Where and How?", my eyes plead
Do you have the time to show me the way?
Poor Helpless soul, you simply walk away.

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

One has become

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.

Hours Pass By

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

A Heart" Dies When

"A Heart" Dies When It Is Not Able To Share Its "Feelings....,

But A "Heart" Kills Itself When Another Heart Doesnt understand Its "Feeling"

Even if the candles

Even if the candles fade away
and winds of silence start blowin
and rotten leaves start to
embrace ur coffin
and roses that lay by ur grave
begin to wither petal after petal
Even if the clouds passing by
shed their tears in blind agony
and even the stars
that we used to see together
that sparkeled our love
begin to glimmer
like as if they were never there
even if the suns of happiness
leave the evenings of ur heart
and the autumns of death
triumph the valleys of ur life

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?

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.

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.

Your feeling is depressed

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",

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O Bearer bring the

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