bijan-rabiee - Hello Poetry

What of it if I lose the pack And steer my horse Toward some uncharted course The scent of unfamiliar air Renders my spirit refreshed The call of the unknown An invite to feel- good fear. What of it if I fail again and again And never become worldly-wise The Universe is vast, deep and strange Who is to say what lies Beyond cosmic curves. What of it if I'm a dreamer A lone traveler in tunnel of Time Imagining of rare hours Of undivided tomorrows Which might never come to be What of it if I die tomorrow At least my soul will be free Bereft of Temporal things And I be no more in name Just in atoms utilized In workshop of Nature If I come back again And go through the cycle of pain Would my fate be the same Or worse or better or in between Either way my soul be imprisoned En route to yet another Chance for redemption Such existence may be meaningful In the eyes of multitude But for me life has no real meaning Just a ship vacillating in the sea Of darkness and light Just a season for Love and Hate To compete over their rights Just a theater play effecting Comedy and tragedy. I may be bad but not that bad To trample on mankind's success An uplifting and frightening feat Displaying the climes of evolution What captures my heart and mind Is the fire that refines me And toward truth drives me I may be an exceptional creature Or may be just another fool.

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6d ago

May 28, 2026 at 1:36 AM UTC

What Of It

What of it if I lose the pack And steer my horse Toward some uncharted course The scent of unfamiliar air Renders my spirit refreshed The call of the unknown An invite to feel- good fear. What of it if I fail again and again And never become worldly-wise The Universe is vast, deep and strange Who is to say what lies Beyond cosmic curves. What of it if I'm a dreamer A lone traveler in tunnel of Time Imagining of rare hours Of undivided tomorrows Which might never come to be What of it if I die tomorrow At least my soul will be free Bereft of Temporal things And I be no more in name Just in atoms utilized In workshop of Nature If I come back again And go through the cycle of pain Would my fate be the same Or worse or better or in between Either way my soul be imprisoned En route to yet another Chance for redemption Such existence may be meaningful In the eyes of multitude But for me life has no real meaning Just a ship vacillating in the sea Of darkness and light Just a season for Love and Hate To compete over their rights Just a theater play effecting Comedy and tragedy. I may be bad but not that bad To trample on mankind's success An uplifting and frightening feat Displaying the climes of evolution What captures my heart and mind Is the fire that refines me And toward truth drives me I may be an exceptional creature Or may be just another fool.

48

'Tis all a chequer board of nights and days Where destiny with men for pieces plays Hither and thither moves and mates and slays And one by one back in the closet lays. The moving finger writes and having writ Moves on, nor all thy piety nor wit Shall lure it back to cancel half a line Nor all thy tears wash out a word of it.

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Feb 15

Feb 15, 2026 at 1:47 AM UTC

"From Rubaiyat"

'Tis all a chequer board of nights and days Where destiny with men for pieces plays Hither and thither moves and mates and slays And one by one back in the closet lays. The moving finger writes and having writ Moves on, nor all thy piety nor wit Shall lure it back to cancel half a line Nor all thy tears wash out a word of it.

16

Not here and not there By earthly measure Not in Right and not in Left By philosophical pace Not social and not anti-social By Nature's press Not of new school and not of old one In State of Universe Uneventful and melancholy In spite of happiness Not in mind, not in body, not in heart My sphere broadens in offbeat lot As if to tell me of unseen light After all the revolving of now and then After all the passing of spatial turn After all the climbing I took in vain After all the fallings that put me in pain After all the sunny days or sunny ways After all gloomy times and varied haze After encountering few forbidden fates I have concluded that my beating pulse Belongs everywhere And nowhere in slice I am the substance that keeps the spice I am the spirit baking the skies.

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Feb 14

Feb 14, 2026 at 12:24 AM UTC

Where Do I Belong

Not here and not there By earthly measure Not in Right and not in Left By philosophical pace Not social and not anti-social By Nature's press Not of new school and not of old one In State of Universe Uneventful and melancholy In spite of happiness Not in mind, not in body, not in heart My sphere broadens in offbeat lot As if to tell me of unseen light After all the revolving of now and then After all the passing of spatial turn After all the climbing I took in vain After all the fallings that put me in pain After all the sunny days or sunny ways After all gloomy times and varied haze After encountering few forbidden fates I have concluded that my beating pulse Belongs everywhere And nowhere in slice I am the substance that keeps the spice I am the spirit baking the skies.

25

Spring of Love releases Raw emotion and tender touch Where body heat boils devotion Evaporating liquor of doubt And the bond wonders How long it can last Love in its Summer grows mature Regulating the pulse of soul And smoothing out the rough edges Though animation is still there Keeping the attachment afloat Autumn of Love turns flame to furnace Softening the flow of heat To seal the pull of attraction Sanctifying the shared belief Love in its Winter breathes The fresh air of halcyon seas Content with its journey That ends in wondrous heights.

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Dec 9, 2025

Dec 9, 2025 at 11:53 AM UTC

Seasons of Love

Spring of Love releases Raw emotion and tender touch Where body heat boils devotion Evaporating liquor of doubt And the bond wonders How long it can last Love in its Summer grows mature Regulating the pulse of soul And smoothing out the rough edges Though animation is still there Keeping the attachment afloat Autumn of Love turns flame to furnace Softening the flow of heat To seal the pull of attraction Sanctifying the shared belief Love in its Winter breathes The fresh air of halcyon seas Content with its journey That ends in wondrous heights.

19

I'm the ocean and the drop A matter aging with time And the light in timeless flight A separate explanation of season In connection with universal drift I was first born in a star's core Engraving my eternal state My second birth out of flesh Swung open the transformation's door I'm not just transforming constantly I am the transformation itself Juggling energy and matter As the sheriff of Universe Like billions of other beings Though they may not be aware of it Like quintillions of other things As if they have magical wings Following the universal pattern Of changing back and forth The Universe creates constant disorder While maintaining the illusion of order What am I I am the micro Universe Letting the macro one observe itself While it is observing me Letting it breed through me I am the cosmic song that is heard Throughout galaxies and beyond.

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Dec 1, 2025

Dec 1, 2025 at 5:16 PM UTC

What Am I

I'm the ocean and the drop A matter aging with time And the light in timeless flight A separate explanation of season In connection with universal drift I was first born in a star's core Engraving my eternal state My second birth out of flesh Swung open the transformation's door I'm not just transforming constantly I am the transformation itself Juggling energy and matter As the sheriff of Universe Like billions of other beings Though they may not be aware of it Like quintillions of other things As if they have magical wings Following the universal pattern Of changing back and forth The Universe creates constant disorder While maintaining the illusion of order What am I I am the micro Universe Letting the macro one observe itself While it is observing me Letting it breed through me I am the cosmic song that is heard Throughout galaxies and beyond.

28

A butterfly lands on a rose Exploring the heavenly seat Its wings fluttering to the heat Arising out of mutual caress A crow watches from a branch Absorbed by the enamored scene. What really goes on in the world of Love The world without art or artifice That sparks attraction With the strangest window of chance Love doesn't care how long loving lasts What counts is the kindling of spirits That would prolong Love's legacy Prolong its never-ending fantasy Despite all its contradictory notions So why Love always drives the emotions This is the mystery Love never reveals For it is much brighter than human light Love has been praised for millennia In the same period, ridiculed and rejected Love has been coping with such duality Neither of which appeals to its taste Love reads the essential vibes Of every creature little, big, fool or wise Love only needs the collective breeze That transforms the reach And calms the tumultuous seas.

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Nov 25, 2025

Nov 25, 2025 at 4:43 AM UTC

Of Love

A butterfly lands on a rose Exploring the heavenly seat Its wings fluttering to the heat Arising out of mutual caress A crow watches from a branch Absorbed by the enamored scene. What really goes on in the world of Love The world without art or artifice That sparks attraction With the strangest window of chance Love doesn't care how long loving lasts What counts is the kindling of spirits That would prolong Love's legacy Prolong its never-ending fantasy Despite all its contradictory notions So why Love always drives the emotions This is the mystery Love never reveals For it is much brighter than human light Love has been praised for millennia In the same period, ridiculed and rejected Love has been coping with such duality Neither of which appeals to its taste Love reads the essential vibes Of every creature little, big, fool or wise Love only needs the collective breeze That transforms the reach And calms the tumultuous seas.

27

How can I tell a story That has no specific beginning No measurable middle and uncertain end This is our story When began, who knows And through its middle stages still goes Are we headed to an exploding end Sending our existence to naught Or can we survive the inevitable Through the harmony of our intelligence That would allow us To relocate beyond Earth And keep on relocating To keep our end elusive Human survival could go on forever If we all pull together as a team Rather than destroying One another's dream Or even worse, lending a hand To the evil end By annihilating our time beforehand Our story is of cosmic fusion Passing through stoic Space And Time's illusion We are able to make our story endless Through interstellar journeys Fueled by our curiosity and genius The backbone of our survival so far So are we going to climb high Or plunge low in greed, power and hate That will wither the flower of humanity.

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Nov 22, 2025

Nov 22, 2025 at 11:02 AM UTC

Our Story

How can I tell a story That has no specific beginning No measurable middle and uncertain end This is our story When began, who knows And through its middle stages still goes Are we headed to an exploding end Sending our existence to naught Or can we survive the inevitable Through the harmony of our intelligence That would allow us To relocate beyond Earth And keep on relocating To keep our end elusive Human survival could go on forever If we all pull together as a team Rather than destroying One another's dream Or even worse, lending a hand To the evil end By annihilating our time beforehand Our story is of cosmic fusion Passing through stoic Space And Time's illusion We are able to make our story endless Through interstellar journeys Fueled by our curiosity and genius The backbone of our survival so far So are we going to climb high Or plunge low in greed, power and hate That will wither the flower of humanity.

31

I'm on a spinning ball And I do not spin Air is all around me Yet I cannot fly I'm mostly made of water But this water doesn't run I can think of anything I want Though the thinking isn't me Despite being inwardly blind I can see light years away I am in a maze of matter But somehow I find the way My left brain deals my devil My right brain lends me a god Am I in a void of cosmic blend Continuously walking the bend Or in a state of constant relations With the symphony of generations.

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Nov 12, 2025

Nov 12, 2025 at 1:39 AM UTC

The Trick of it All

I'm on a spinning ball And I do not spin Air is all around me Yet I cannot fly I'm mostly made of water But this water doesn't run I can think of anything I want Though the thinking isn't me Despite being inwardly blind I can see light years away I am in a maze of matter But somehow I find the way My left brain deals my devil My right brain lends me a god Am I in a void of cosmic blend Continuously walking the bend Or in a state of constant relations With the symphony of generations.

18

There is a fundamental flaw With the way humans plan for future I'm not including all humans of course For always a small percentage More precisely, the exceptional ones Find the way to transcend the limits Such individuals can be clairvoyant Even though not proven scientifically Or self-made individuals tackling destiny Or prodigies, geniuses and wizards With the magic of their own No, I'm talking about the garden-variety I myself am a unit in the run-of-mill crew However, I'm not including myself Because I never think of the future I care about what goes on in the moment Regardless of what tomorrow may bring. The fundamental flaw Lies in the definiteness of planning Whether it be educational, occupational Financial or matrimonial attainments Most people keep on making plans Left and right without a tinge of doubt In their minds and become disappointed Or even shocked when things don't go According to their expectations I have witnessed first-hand How few of my friends, acquaintances And some members of my family Fell victims to rigidity of their intentions To the commanding confidence With which they made future plans. Doubt should be a part of One's daily diet of thinking I have heard that love is blind That justice is blind Well, unrefined confidence Is blinder than both. Nothing ought to be taken for granted In the here and now let alone A time we have no conception of Except that we shall see it If we are lucky enough.

0

Nov 6, 2025

Nov 6, 2025 at 2:27 AM UTC

There Is a Flaw

There is a fundamental flaw With the way humans plan for future I'm not including all humans of course For always a small percentage More precisely, the exceptional ones Find the way to transcend the limits Such individuals can be clairvoyant Even though not proven scientifically Or self-made individuals tackling destiny Or prodigies, geniuses and wizards With the magic of their own No, I'm talking about the garden-variety I myself am a unit in the run-of-mill crew However, I'm not including myself Because I never think of the future I care about what goes on in the moment Regardless of what tomorrow may bring. The fundamental flaw Lies in the definiteness of planning Whether it be educational, occupational Financial or matrimonial attainments Most people keep on making plans Left and right without a tinge of doubt In their minds and become disappointed Or even shocked when things don't go According to their expectations I have witnessed first-hand How few of my friends, acquaintances And some members of my family Fell victims to rigidity of their intentions To the commanding confidence With which they made future plans. Doubt should be a part of One's daily diet of thinking I have heard that love is blind That justice is blind Well, unrefined confidence Is blinder than both. Nothing ought to be taken for granted In the here and now let alone A time we have no conception of Except that we shall see it If we are lucky enough.

43

A flow of ancient air by chance Passed through the lattice of awareness Confusing its framework Thoughts no longer held together tight The strands of understanding What felt certain as day, as night Lost its grip in coherence of doubt Lost its rhythm exploring The presence of untamed dimension The soul remembered its song Recognizing the imbued deception How a moment transforms the path Resurrecting fire's desire Transcending heart's breath And laying bare injected truths.

0

Aug 24, 2025

Aug 24, 2025 at 12:28 AM UTC

Consciousness Revised

A flow of ancient air by chance Passed through the lattice of awareness Confusing its framework Thoughts no longer held together tight The strands of understanding What felt certain as day, as night Lost its grip in coherence of doubt Lost its rhythm exploring The presence of untamed dimension The soul remembered its song Recognizing the imbued deception How a moment transforms the path Resurrecting fire's desire Transcending heart's breath And laying bare injected truths.

15