What Is, Is In Love

What Is, Is In Love (S6)

I’m a moth circling the light of the beloved’s face.
Give me your soul-nourishing hand, and nothing else.

If my body is cut from head to toe,
Every joint is love’s abode, and nothing else.

When the drum of “Am I not your Lord?” was beaten,
to test the friend from the enemy,
when the Friend asked, He heard His answer:
I said the name of love, and nothing else.

(Carl’s English poetic experiment:
I said “trouble!” but that’s
love, and nothing else.)

Jun, 18 2010 495 chars (4 sms) 2757 views English Poetry

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A Little Act Of

A Little Act Of,
***Kindness***
Can Fill A Heart with
****Joy****
***Eid Mubarik***

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

The sparkle in your

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.

What Is, Is In Love

One likes darkness, another is in the light.
Another drills to pile up worldly possessions.

What is, is in love, the rest is futile.
The world is nothing, its sultan and its shah all nothing.

Was there ever a sultan whose throne survived?
Is there a lover in this world whose name will fade?

May God bless my father who told my teacher:
"Teach my son love’s lesson, and nothing else."

Look at the soil and rock of the desert;
they’re mourning Majnun’s tears.

If Mazun dies as a pauper,
write on his tombstone: This is love’s abode. And nothing else

My heart longs for

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.

Reflections of a Beautiful

Reflections of a Beautiful Morning

The sun rises above the hillcrest,
As does the joy of my heart;
Rays of warmth and love,
From her I will never depart.

Fresh dew upon the grass,
Young birds chirp in their nests;
I watch her gently sleep,
My love to her I silently profess.

I enjoy the stillness and calm,
Watching as she smiles and dreams;
She brings me to stillness and peace,
Like that of a slow flowing stream.

My heart and soul flow with love,
And I smile as I quietly reflect;
I’ve been handed a sweet princess,
A sweet princess to love and to protect.

A vow to myself I make,
As she quietly sleeps away;
To love and always cherish her,
Until my last breath... until my last day.

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.

if one day you

if one day you feel like crying...
call me.
i dont promise you that i will male you laugh,
but i can cry with you.

if one day you want to run away....
dont be a afraid to call me.
i dont promise to ask you to stay,
but i can run with you..

if one day you dont want to listen to anybody,
call me...

i promise to be very quiet.

but
if one day you call me
and there is no answer....

come fast to see me,
perhaps i need you.

i am sorry my tear

i am sorry my tears
Coz I have trapped you ,
Whenever you wanted to flow
I have always stopped you.

I know inside for you
It is very suffocating ,
But even if you flow
Nothing you will be getting .

You will flow
And get vanished somewhere ,
And till that time
People will show that they do care .

So better don''t expect
Anybody''s sympathy ,
You are true
You don''t deserve false pity.

I know you wanna come out
To make me feel relieved ,
What you think ?
Will this make my wounds get healed?

Rather than you
Its more painful for me
My dreams getting shattered
Is what everyday I see .

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.

some say love

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.

Fight

Fight
We have to fight
If we wanna live it right
We have to look at the sky
Invaded with the sun light
...We have to go for our dream
...Without perhaps or might
And when we reach
We have to fight
To avoid falling
From such a big height

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What Is, Is In Love

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