Like the small

Like the small flowers of green thick hills
With fragrance, did her words; bloom
Wild yet passionate in love, are the tribal''s
So was hers, for them and theirs

Sad was her heart, at the jungle''s ruin
Starved was her pen, of any words
To the children, she lent a voice, therein
To save the jungle, her poetry and birds

While planting seeds, with hope they croon
Cast your magic, of life, dearest monsoon
As the clouds poured, and lent some life
To life, the jungle sprang, and they all sang

Like the mother herself, she nursed and cared
Days later, the deers came smiling
For lifetimes, shall the tribals sing, her praise
Her story of life, her pen; still flowing.

Jun, 18 2010 687 chars (5 sms) 4539 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.

I stand at the edge

I stand at the edge straight as a board
Overwhelmed by my fears my desires ignored
I reach out my hands only to hold myself back
My mind racing sorting fiction from fact
My head lifts and eyes brighten when I hear you call
Still I remain motionless, I don''t wanna fall

I''m afraid, but what exactly am I afraid of?
My heart shutters at the thought of falling in love
Overcome by fear I remain completely still
My emotions can''t deepen if I refuse to feel
Once again my name escapes from your lips
I feel the gentle brush of your sweet fingertips

I saw in a bird the instinct of love

I saw in a bird the instinct of love
And in her daughter I saw the Need
Her mother is the only source
By which she can feed
And I need you, in your land there was my seed
......So why cruelty is the only thing in your eyes
That I can read

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.

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

A night hug warms

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.

~*~ OLD MEMORIES ~*~

~*~ OLD MEMORIES ~*~

I treasure sweet old memories
As the time goes swiftly by
A few bring smiles of happiness
And some tears to the eye

They all r precious in their way
Reopening the door of old
That have been shut these many years
What pictures they unfold

These dear old, sweet old memories
All play their special part
In bringing joy and opening up
The latch strings of the heart ... (:->

The sweet laughter

The sweet laughter—I didn’t love in vain.
I didn’t graft reason onto love.

She pulls me, she pulls me with her lasso-like braid.
How could I be separated from her ambergris-scented hair?

Peris, lovely, tall beauties –
Mazun won’t refuse if they want his soul.

I’ve put my head in their path.
My head’s bad luck is because of my tongue.

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.

~Tough Time Don''t Last~

~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" ...

You showed me

You showed me the sea..though your depiction
Her turbulent surface..chides my emotions
Her serene belly...recalls my intentions
The setting sun...reminds me of lost time
Fistful of sand...coerceing to let bygones be
Wave''s dance with winds...accentuates team-spirit
Sails at full mast.....suggests effeciency at peak

Beloved''s Manifestation

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.

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Like the small

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