I roam by day

I roam by day, in search of shady trees
In between these huge palaces of stone
A shady place to sleep time and sun away
and then return to that old cold stone.
And to dream, looking at the mocking stars.

The sun slowly peeps at me, smiling
and I naughtily show my back to him
The world starts running around quickly
And tries to wake me up, but in vain
All I know and have, is my sleep galore.

These few lines, for those homeless friends, who sleep on the streets, these few lines, for our helplessness on seeing them. These few lines for their prayers and our reasons.

Jun, 18 2010 584 chars (4 sms) 3285 views English Poetry

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Majnun is drunk from

Majnun is drunk from love, and Layla is drunk from coyness.
The mountain existed and this madman also existed.

The eyes of beauties were drunken and murderous.
Her tongue was like sugar, and her lips the confectioner.

The suffering boy and the loving girl existed,
the tyrant father and miser mother were also there.

That teasing that breaches faith,
the arrow of coy that pierces the soul,

It was not that Mazun was targeted last night,
the arrow was there and the target was there.

You are friendly

You are friendly, kind and caring
Sensitive, loyal and understanding
Humorous, fun, secure and true
Always there... yes that''s you.

Special, accepting, exciting and wise
Truthful and helpful, with honest blue eyes
Confiding, forgiving, cheerful and bright
Yes that''s you... not one bit of spite.

You''re one of a kind, different from others
Generous, charming, but not one that smothers
Optimistic, thoughtful, happy and game
But not just another... in the long chain.

Appreciative, warm and precious like gold
Our friendship won''t tarnish or ever grow old
You''ll always be there, I know that is true
I''ll always be here... always for you.

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.

Once all EMOTIONS

Once all EMOTIONS
decided to play
Hide n Seek

PAIN started counting
...n All Other were hiding.

LIE hid near the tree..
LOVE cudn''t get a place
to hide so he hid himself
in a Rose bush..
Everyone was caught
except LOVE
But
MADNESS told PAIN abt
LOVE..
PAIN jumped in d bush n
whn came out LOVE lost
his eyes coz of the thorns..

Then GOD cursed PAIN n
he was ordered 2 b wid
LOVE 4ever.

Since then..

"LOVE is BLIND n always
accompanied by PAIN"

Each Person Has A

Each Person Has A Different Path To The Friend’s Neighborhood

We exchanged reason for love.
Everybody is a buyer of a different good.

The mystic’s design and mark is distinct,
A different bazaar, a different shop.

It’s a different journey, a distinct world.
It’s different from this world and the other world.

Those on the land are unaware of those in the air.
A good from Ethiopia is different from one from Central Asia.

One who is in the sea is ignorant of some one who is in the desert.
Everybody is the king of his own city.

The Sweetest words

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!

Burning pain

Burning pain
Misery and tears
My heart torn by broken promises
Your lies echo through my mind
No place to run
No place to hide
I try to ignore my pain
Daily my tears flow
My beauty marred
My spirit crushed
Your anger
Your criticism
Your violence
I can do no right
I try to please, to make things acceptable
For you
To no avail
How to end my suffering
There is no respite
By you, my deep love forgotten
There are others who fill your thoughts
Who make you smile

can you see it in

can you see it in my eyes??

you dont knw how i m feelin
i have yet to vocalize
desire deep inside me
can you see it in my eyes??
i tremble when i m near you
heat travels up my thighs..and i want you with an urgency
that i just cant descirbe
dare i reachout to touch you ..do u think you''d realize
how much i want n need u
can you see it in my eyes
i long to say i luv u
but am scared of ur reply
terrified like a child
i have become paralaysed
the camaouflaged emotions lead to pain n slient cries
and yet i just cant tell u..
dont you see it in my eyes??
confessin through dis poem
my dilemma summarized

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?

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.

Life taught me

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.

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.

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I roam by day

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