Dig your grave
You wanted to dig
It's too steep
Your in too deep
No room to stumble
You gotta climb them walls
If it cost nails
You have to dig those fingers
Into the blood lubricated crevices
Found in the gritty walls edges
Should there be a rope at this point
Your ground up nubs could no longer grasp it
As you wallow in the self pity
Wishes of swords swallow
You refuse mercys beggard exist
Pain encouraged weakness leaves
Body and conscious hope
One last effort for the wall groped
A grey area in my body my sweetheart is just my heart
Which takes me to fountain of beauty being direly thirsty
Being a large reservoir it accumulates in it beauty of all sort
It remains busy in this connection and is never ever free
So I capture beauty in it where ever I find it or just locate
Being a lover of beauty I never ever feel tired to take rest
At times beauty shows after lot of struggle at times in plate
I am created by my Lord in the mold which suits me best
Eyes and heart play entirely to be very near to the fountain
Soul and body take risk to be always on the proper path
In this pursuit I have to surmount mountain after mountain
My beloved you are a burning candle I am a relent less moth
Col Muhammad Khalid Khan
Copyright 2016 Golden Glow
To be awash in the depravity of your own soul,
To be bound by a fetter in captivity to your enemy,
To lose the greatest thing we could ever have,
And call it all "very good."
Liberty and freedom, lies and falsehoods,
This people we have become, intolerant.
We have laid claim to unparalleled diversity,
All the while losing individuality, gaining isolation.
We have learned to fuck freely and masquerade it as love,
While the greatest act of love- forgiveness- is buried beneath condemnation and intolerance.
Who are we?
We are a relentless generation,
Seeking a fill to the void in the fibre of our souls,
Prancing and skipping from one fad to the next,
Demanding rights for our wicked ways.
What is it that will finally quench our thirsts?
When will we start doing what we tell others to do?
Who are the people to finally break the chain?
We will all die alone.
Every muscle in my body
Begs me to run
To chase your car
But then your taillights crest the hill
And disappear beyond
My mind lingers on you
Are you wearing your seatbelt?
Are you alert and emotionally sound?
A distracted driver is just as dangerous
As a drunk driver
I am not ok right now
Fear and feelings and Hydrocodone
Cloud my mind
Every time I watch you leave
Hurts more than the last
But this weekend was amazing
I had so much fun
Felt so loved
This weekend was not wasted
On painkillers and platitudes
This weekend was real
Tactile and truthful
My love is relentless
And I will pursue you
To the end of the earth.
They want more than a thank you,
Always wanting more than they need.
It never ends with a thank you,
Just saying more please.
Where did we grow so discontent?
Burning desires that never relent,
Why can't we just accept a thank you?
As a satisfying benefit,
This world is always wanting more.
Greed always knocking at the door,
But why can't it just end at a thank you.
Instead of always wanting more.
Remember to say thank you,
And never always wanting more.
Streaks of red and black strike within
To tangle dangerously around my fragile skin
So volatile and sweet
I can melt my surroundings in a blink
And all it would take
Is one disdainful look
To trigger a demise
I live in a home of carmine red
Rigged with thorns of regrets without fortitude
And the floor covered in ragged rugs
To hide the scars of my tragic misfortunes
Rants and screeches bring severe astringency
There is no mercy
As it always reaches deep inside my throat
And around my neck
Tightly coiled, hurtful words begin to suffocate
The boiling blood of relentless fury
I am left in a steam of silence
Without a vent to this clustered chaos
I have become a hidden rage within me
As I watch the icy, red glow
Eradicate my destructive home
The Home of Carmine Red © 2013 - 2015
Secluded dreams are your fragile fingers
never to caress harsh tree bark creeks again
pulsating in vain when you don't hear the drumming dominion
of my tactile gentle tips falling in love with your philosophical nonsense
constellating words become sensual sonoric spaces
between you and me betweex texts of adoration
one typing pad and a hot salvia tea
serves you' mastering over
the paint brushes
in a pot
drawings, fine arts, parts of an intimate instrumentalia
Freshly washed t-shirt hangs over one empty bottle
Sealed contentment, sleepless nights, red wine dizzy
adrift and fiery
one giant dragonfly emerging from the clouds
At the end has crashed the mighty wings and
the haunted sounds; all of my desires for you
the old blood
catching a fire flower within your palm
torchering torches turning us, our lust, into the waxed reciprocity
sideral you still love me tropic me still crave
to arouse you solely by my
in between days solstice
in between the dying
What be more grandiose than poetry,
expound at your own discretion,
bottle sunshine, save it in a jar,
tie an affectionate knot, spread it around
flood desert mirages with flowing spirits,
speaks kindly and murderously about love,
can tempt winds to uncoil temptation's gist
thrust upon or written asunder desperation
relentless in its seizing of human behavior,
magnifying moonbeams or star's decimation
perfumed magnolias to winter's cruelty,
call of the wild midst sweetness of fresh rhubarb pie,
infinitely vast in its incalculable grasp of predication,
beyond limitless infrastructures 'neath fancied significance