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) 4883 views English Poetry

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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.

At every sunset

At every sunset, I cry and plead
Slow and just living, and yet I bleed
With angst, do I cry, take me home.
Please take me away from this old age home.

and even the emptiness

and even the emptiness
begins to fill up the air
Even if u are gone to the world
OF eternity Far off far away
with every passing beat of my heart
i will be by ur side my Love
Always there for u
to see the smile of urs
in the heavens above !

When the sunrays hit your eyes

When the sunrays hit your eyes
Making the world so bright
And you still see the world
As dark as one sad dark night
When you try to breathe...
...new air of a new era
and the fact is around your neck,
holding it so tight
this is when you know that your life
has changed totally but you dont know
is it a change from right to left
or left to right
from white to black
or.. from black to white.......

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.

If only the world

If only the world could see what I feel
then, would the world, know who I am
I''ve loved, lost and feared the world
for it is sometimes too much to bare

Control, power, is what I fear
for I am weak inside and full of pain
I shout and cry, but knowing
there is nobody there to hear me
I swallow the shame and anger
that lies beneath me

I am lost to reality and living in time
Though I am struggling through life
and all that it offers, I am only human
and that is what makes me . . . Me.

Still, I wish for the happiness and pleasure
that I have earned, but realize that, I have
not yet overcome the world''s greatest challenge

Love! and how to accept it -
I am ready to face my fears

A LOVE LIKE NO OTHER

A LOVE LIKE NO OTHER . . .

I never felt a love
Like this before
It''s a love like no other
Something I have always hoped for

A love with friendship
Humour and heart
A bond so strong
It would never part

A love that makes you smile
From ear to ear
A love that is joyful
Without any fear

A love that is beautiful
From the inside out
A love with no tears,
Pain, or doubt

A love with soul
So tender and true
A love that I have found
Only in you...

I didn’t decide to

I didn’t decide to carry the load of sorrow,
sorrow existed, this house of sorrow also existed.

I didn’t lift the Jam-e Jam to drink wine,
wine existed, this house of wine also was there.

It is said: "He who created the house of love,
let the beloved burn and the lover burnt."

The cruelty of the red rose, and the cry of the nightingale—
the candle existed, and this moth also existed.

One’s pain is too much, another’s little,
one’s heart is afflicted, another’s smiles.

PRAY ALWAYS

PRAY ALWAYS
pray when you are young
pray when you are strong
pray when you are busy
pray when you are lazy
pray when you''ve much to do
prat when you''ve nothing to do
pray when you are weary
for now you need god''s caring.
pray when you are blue
pray when you have flu
pray when you are gay
pray when you are okay
don''t wait till you have become old
neither wait till you become bald
life may be long,life may be short
but prayer must be first at a day''s start.

On occasion we

On occasion we wonder what our purpose in life is,

We don’t listen to our inner voice, ignoring his.

Something inside propels us to act,

Yet we often fail to recognize it and simply don’t react.

Perhaps we have known all along,

But we are too afraid that we could be wrong.

We must take a chance on our given talent,

Each and every one of us can be valiant.

If we veer off track,

Something inside will pull us back.

Maybe it could be we are being tested,

So when our individual purpose becomes clear, it is not ignored or rejected.

I can survive

I can survive,
And still jive
Though you are gone

Doesn''t really matter
My heart wont shatter
What if I am alone

Let the flowers bloom
Let the birds chirp
I wont drown in gloom

Let the wind whisper
Sweet nothings,
Let the cloud flirt

The fragrance,
the lilting melody
The nightly croon

Nothing can make me miss you
Nothing can sway

But...
it rained today...

Even if the candles

Even if the candles fade away
and winds of silence start blowin
and rotten leaves start to
embrace ur coffin
and roses that lay by ur grave
begin to wither petal after petal
Even if the clouds passing by
shed their tears in blind agony
and even the stars
that we used to see together
that sparkeled our love
begin to glimmer
like as if they were never there
even if the suns of happiness
leave the evenings of ur heart
and the autumns of death
triumph the valleys of ur life

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Like the small

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