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)     4083 views       English Poetry

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Across skies, the sun starts to limn
Waking up to a morning hymn
Roosters’ crow and sparrows tweet
In deep slumber, an alarm sweet

Strumming upon the leafy ground
Sweepers crafting a hip sound
Coffee poured and buckets filled
Streams gurgling, dreams fulfilled.

In the kitchen, vessels clang and fall
At a crescendo, milkman starts to call
Telephones ring, radio springs alive
Joggers pant, in harmony all dive.

As the band plays, starts all festivity
From stillness of night, a sudden levity
To awaken me, do thy make all the fuss
In pure merriment, I wake up thus

Fill my ears again, before I yawn
Haunt with visuals of a glorious Eon
From morning dew, a lesson reborn
Learn and listen to symphony at dawn
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.
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.
A night hug warms the heart,
A night kiss brightens the day,
And a good morning to start your day!


Thinking of U this lovely morning
As the sun starts shining is the perfect beginning.
So my dear charming, here’s my good morning.
Keep smiling morning till evening.
SHAKESPEARE SAYS,
"It is not necessary to share
everything between true friends.
But it is necessary
that what you share must be true."
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.
and you may be sort of a loner, but that
doesn''t mean you want to be. What hurts you
is people being mean and even though you
might not get it that often, since you''re so
sensitive it still makes you deal with pain.
You''re not a leader and are usually the
person who stands alone, does what she''s
supposed to do and nothing else.
some say love it is a river,
that drowns the tender reed.
some say love it is a razor,
that leaves ur soul to bleed.
some say love it is a hunger,
an endless aching need.
BUT !!
i say love it is a flower,
n u r its only seed.
My love for you is simple, deep, and strong.
I feel it flowing towards you from my heart,
A tide of unsophisticated song,
Sung with much desire and little art.
I cannot tell my love, but it will show
In ways that even I cannot foresee;
A love as full as mine must overflow
Into everything that makes me, me.
Just as the sun must shine to be the sun
And trees burst forth in blossom every year,
So I must love in ways that everyone
Can see or sense or reason out or hear.
Still, I''ll tell you of my love in this:
For fear, despite all, you might my love miss.
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.
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?
Beloved''s Manifestation

One who is eager for love,
the beloved''s manifestation is in his soul.

In his existence there is the sign,
in his bones, marrow, and blood.

Is the beloved a houri or a human?
Venus, the sun, or the moon?

My beloved, in short,
is neither from the earth, nor from the sky.

Day by day my beloved''s beauty becomes more elegant.
Moment by moment I become more saddened.

My beloved is closer to me than myself,
Yet, I don''t know where my beloved is.

One who has reason and knowledge,
becomes intimate with someone of his kind.

I, helpless and Majnun-like,
have become accustomed to the desert.