Majnun is drunk from

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.
  

Jun, 18 2010     503 chars (4 sms)     4315 views       English Poetry

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But human mind is often a monkey
It jumps and hops towards success and it''s key
As guinea pigs we go on and on
thru the tedious cycle of life rite from the time we were born
We never know our way nor our destination
But man goes on with God as prime stimulation
Realise that life isn''t constant dying and learn to honour fraternity
And indeed life is a "gift snatched frm eternity"
It makes me gloomy
It makes me cry
That you are a charmer & your love was a lie ...

You''re my love & without you
I''LL DIE ... I''LL DIE ...

But now waves of time has shown me tha path
It''s not death, where I want to resort ...

My lovely anguish told me to what to do?

I DON''T LOVE YOU BUT
I LOVE TO ABHOR YOU ...
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.
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.
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
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 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...!!!
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.
n0 l0ve,
n0 life,
n0 pain,
n0 Peace,
n0 happeyness,
n0 Sadness,
n0 Hate,
n0 m0re can happen t0 0ur fate,
Emoti0nless s0me pe0ple stand t0day

n0 l0ve,
n0 life,
n0 pain,
n0 Peace,
n0 happeyness,
n0 Sadness,
n0 Hate,
n0 m0re can s0me 0ne be heald in arms and feel the l0ve,
and relese the hate,
n0 m0re tears t0 cry,
All is t0 live f0r,
Is the day we die,

n0 l0ve,
n0 life,
n0 pain,
n0 Peace,
n0 happeyness,
n0 Sadness,
n0 Hate,
n0 m0re but its all Fake
Em0ti0nless is h0w we all stand t0day.
~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" ...
Time for you and time for me,
And time yet for a hundred indecisions,
And for a hundred visions and revisions,
Before the taking of a toast and tea.
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.