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relahxe Mar 31
I look at you
A ghost without boundaries
My hands reaching out
To grasp your heart
Nothing there to stop me

I look at you
Ephemeral
And ethereal
I wonder when you’ll see
The way I view you
An abstract concept
Far away
Never to be found
Never to be touched
Yet an object of limerence
An object of love
That is not to be realized

Saudade
Object of obsession
You are nothing more than that
You are much more than that

A ghost without boundaries
Dead yet alive in my mind
Fitting in the puzzle pieces
As I fit the parts of my heart
Last time it fell for you
Shofi Ahmed Jan 17
The moon hums in a new style
Ah, pretty little beauty spot, opens a slice of sky
On the door of tomorrow in the serene shadow of night
Keeping the ears down, alleyways of stars lie down.
The sea too rolls out high waves of rhymes
Only then will the veiled mystic night  
Opens once a kohl-dark, enigmatic eye
On the door of tomorrow deep down the night.
Wise one mentioned me a door. The least I could do picked up my pen.
Shofi Ahmed Jan 17
"چاند ایک نئے انداز میں گنگنائے گا۔"
"Chaand ek naye andaaz mein gungunaega."

"اہ، خوبصورت چھوٹا سا حسین تل، آسمان کا ایک ٹکڑا کھولے گا۔"
"Ah, khoobsurat chhota sa haseen til, aasman ka ek tukda khole ga."

"کل کے دروازے پر، رات کے پرسکون سائے میں۔"
"Kal ke darwaze par, raat ke pursukoon saaye mein."

"کان نیچے رکھتے ہوئے، ستاروں کی گلیاں بھی جھکتی ہیں۔"
"Kaan neeche rakhte hue, sitaron ki galiyan bhi jhukti hain."

"سمندر بھی اونچی قافیوں کی لہریں بہا دیتا ہے۔"
"Samandar bhi oonchi qafiyon ki lehren baha deta hai."

"تب ہی پردہ دار روحانی رات ایک بار اپنی کاجل سیاہ، پراسرار آنکھ کھولتی ہے!"
"Tab hi pardah daar rohani raat ek baar apni kajal siyah, purasrar aankh kholti hai!"

کل کے دروازے پر رات کے گہرائیوں میں
"Kal ke darwaze par raat ke gehraaiyon mein"
Wise one mentioned me a door. The least I could do picked up my pen.
The caterpillar marches
Munching from leaf to leaf to leaf
He doesn’t know where he’s going
He doesn’t know where he’s been
He only knows the munching
The hunger in his gut
The fire in his belly
Antennae pointing up
Vigilant for predators
Water and leaves
He doesn’t know where he’s going
It matters not where he’s been

The caterpillar weaves
Instinctively without knowing
Why he must, but weaves he does
A cocoon for the growing
The caterpillar digests himself
Dissolving into soup
Becoming a pod of pain and tears
And caterpillar goop
Alone for weeks he suffers
Reconfiguring
His whole body becoming
A new kind of being

No idea what he’s becoming
No idea what’s in store
Suddenly caterpillar emerges
More beautiful than before
Stronger and more delicate
Lighter than the air
Ready for love and lofty height
A sight beautiful and rare
The butterfly does not look back
To the caterpillar he was
The butterfly flies forward
Embracing whatever comes
I S A A C Jul 2023
I read and read but the words do not stick
trying to forge a path but the plants are too thick
my brain fills with mist, my days i reminisce
i was simple before the downloads
now i etch the voices of my mind into the poetry i write
so i shuffle my tarot cards laced with divine
now is never the time, they say, i fray
i am fickle, riddled with adversity
i am tickled by you thinking you deserve me
a dinner date and you expect to open my legs
i say my thoughts but they get lost in your primitive state
ephemeral, see me through the lens of withdrawal
chemical, plentiful, ego mixed with alcohol

Ephemeral blooms
Wayward clouds mischievous trees
Vernal grass beckons
Literatim Oct 2022
A leaf
In the gentle autumn breeze
Softly falls to Earth,
Together with its siblings
It lines the woodland path.

The ground below is cold but soft,
Still sensing the September sun,
Not yet has winter’s icy breath
Been felt, not yet its reign begun.

The creatures of the forest
Patter to and fro,
Their feet and wings stirring the leaves
On the ground below.

By comes a fox, takes careful watch,
Then vanishes from sight,
By comes a robin, plucking berries
And then, once more, takes flight,
By comes a squirrel, in its search
For nuts it takes delight,
And finally, by comes the owl,
Waiting for the cloak of night.

The leaf, still lying on the ground,
Is eager for another day
But then, by comes a gust of wind
And carries it away.
Do not
pity the
flower
that has
died, it
will bloom
once more,  
as an
ephemeral
moment
in life you
held dearly,
unaware of
how it
always
returned.
Nat Dec 2021
Every castle turns to sand
Every form and all the land
And it's all been sand before
Gracing some alien shore
But what I find sublime
What isn't bound by time
What dies as it is wrought
Moments made up of thought
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