This bag of lavender
that comforted you in your last days
has comforted me since.
Over the years it has lost its scent
but still, on country strolls,
the smell of fresh lavender stirs
memories.

Anyone would be upset, right?

You took a slice of my cake,
It took me seven hours to bake.
Red Velvet is hard to learn,
That one slice, one should earn.

The vanilla layer was hard to lay out
At least five times, I was wracked by doubt,
Whether the cream-to-butter was three or four
And the icing or the colouring comes before.

No, steal the extra crust you can,
I don’t need it anyway in the pan.
What I wanted was the tiny sprinkles,
That you licked off without a ******.

Go away, don’t touch my cake.

/
When you are growing as a poet
your pain is pining to born a poetry
where there are too many clouds of emotions gathering,
also a pensive mood longing
then the thunder of thoughts growing,
your paper is awaiting for the first word
as I was waiting for you, my love
when you were coming slowly
then words of rain raining,
automatically,
randomly

When the first raindrop pings on the pond
even you don't know when it will be stopped
how far it will be covered
which path it will be taken
even its density,
dignity,
or the diversity

Your first word inks on the paper
you don’t know when it will be finished
which way the words will be taken
even you don't know
its size or style,
its fashion or the scheme

Either it's a long or a short
or even a sonnet or a verse
even its rhyming
or the rhythm

You should not think about its length
of course words grow as long as
the metaphors can travel
through its thoughts of cohesion
and its feelings moving
naturally,
poetically

You should not count the words
or even you can't stop within a limit
it makes your thoughts imperfect
rather you can tell totally
about the life,
or can tell about
the love easily
or beyond the life spontaneously

The words can grow 3,5,7
lines for a haiku
or even it goes for a mile for an epitaph
or more for an epic  

Poetry executes through words
words come from thoughts
thoughts come from the emotions
and ends with the wisdom
/
@ Musfiq us shaleheen

I'm not very strong, so to speak
I'm merely a girl refusing to sound weak
Often condescending; narcissism in full glory
But every action taken was never without a story

What is it, you might ask, do pray tell
If curious is what you are, then very well I shall
I am seasoned, scarred, battered and bruised
Torn, tattered and worn out from use

This you know, you've been there before
One too many times we've walked out the door
We both have wounds, you and I
I've grown tired and my tears have run dry

This won't work, I've heard them all say
But never you mind, I'll be okay
A fighter now, a pushover before
I gotta be strong before I lose even more

A chanced encounter, that's what you are
Could he be different? I wondered from afar
Conversations over coffee, what a great start!
But I've grown accustomed to guarding my heart

It's not that I don't trust, nor that I don't care
My past has hurt me and my mama said beware
Risks have been taken, perhaps a little too much
So please understand as to why I am such

Despite all that, you've got me thinking
Things could be better, if only I kept believing
Because I've grown fond of our playful banter
The time is mine, and that's all that matters

I like the type of boy
Who isn’t overly sure of himself
Who fakes his confidence
So he comes across bold and fearless
But secretly needs reassurance
Though he never asks for it
But he allows his nervousness
To show once in a while
I like the type of boy
Who holds onto things
Far too long
And can’t let go
Even when it has come time to
And even when he really wants to
I like the type of boy
Who isn’t afraid of emotion
And takes feelings like a man
Without treating them
Like something undesirable
I like the type of boy
Who would prefer to read
Rather than smoke ****
Who would choose to watch an old movie on a Saturday night
Over getting drunk at 2AM with a group of strangers
I like the type of boy
Who over thinks everything
I like the type of boy who gets jealous
‘cause it’s kind of cute
I like the type of boy who is passionate
Who has powerful emotions
Who never does anything halfway
Who means what he says
Who isn’t out spoken
But considers his words
And uses them well
Because he knows their value
I like the type of boy
Who yells when he is mad
Isn’t afraid to disagree with me
But is never unkind about it
Who is willing to listen
Who is willing to talk
I like the type of boy
Who will tell me I have a beautiful soul,
Not a beautiful face or body
I like the type of boy
Who calls me something deeper than pretty
Who doesn’t shower me in in meaningless compliments
But when he does
He means it
And he says something a little more original
Than calling me pretty
I like the type of boy
Who has a darker side
But doesn’t let it overpower him
Who can handle my darker side
But is one of the few people
Who can bring my out my brighter side
I like the type of boy
Who doesn’t mind when I act crazy
Who isn’t afraid to yell when he needs to let something out
And isn’t afraid to whisper either
I like the type of boy
Who messes up all the time, over and over again
Who has regrets
Who shows remorse
Who cares about stuff
And isn’t “too cool” to give a ****
I like the type of boy
Who uses proper grammar
Who is willing to tease me
And joke around with me
And make me laugh
I like the type of boy who isn’t afraid
To be afraid
I like the type of boy
Who likes the type of girl I am








…so basically the non-existent type of boy :P

Repost if you like the type of boy or girl that most usually wouldn't and comment, telling me the type of boy or girl you like.

You wonder
why I wiggle
so much
why my legs
bounce,
and my hands
twitch.
Truth is,
my mind
can't slow down
It doesn't know
how to take a day off,
its far too good
at tormenting me
more and more
with each
passing second.

-JRM

I'd quench that thirst -
evening satiation throbs in
my head, in my heart, in my -
whenever you were thirsty.

I'd live without it -
no shortcomings of vices in
the smoke, in the liquor, in the -
unless only you instigate.

You keep on lying -
can you let me escape the
thoughts, feelings, desire?
- on that bed, those satin sheets.

Black lace and smoldering incense
cloud the hazy, lustful dreams
where the satisfied sighs, screams,
smiles were unforgettable.
I'm up in the sky and I can't
keep running away.