Fell heal over heads
          in love with a poet,
  he's mostly a rhyme schemer
       likes Poe and his dark Raven,
  in actuality,  I'd fancy him more if
    he were like Pablo Neruda, but I digress
I'm much accurately fashioned after Emily Dickinson
        chasing heaven's June bugs toing and froing,
we'd meet at a perfectly superfluous coffee shop
    he'll be murmuring elegiac pentameter
I'm simply looking to devour precious words,
    we'd argue about abstract destinations,  
            straight forward persuasions and
               premonitions of wayward ink allusions,
some days I want to claw mine own eyes out
               amid all that nonsensical alliteration
  others, I want to rip out embellishments
                   of his black heart's magnification,
he mutters tumult under his breath,
     states he's abundantly sickly tired of all my
         fanatical froufroutant  flourished fantasies,
albeit, we're mild mannered artistes
         of overstatement and simplification
               thus, we continue laying it on thickly
I, with my hyperbolic cuppa tea and honey,
       he's all brass tacks, no nonsense black coffee
ultimately, we reservedly seek gratification,
      envisioning who functionally makes it first
to a finished line of manifestations's publication,
           in eternity's poetic intentions and beyond

It was like a
nuclear explosion
the day vision
caught fire,  
atoms were fusing
  and reverberating
titillated skies were
  in accordance,
the force of power
    by which poetry
       is reckoned,
eyes full of mist
heart ground to grist
at least 1000 lonely
   teardrops kissed
mind overflowing
with notions impossible
then it occurred to me,
   words are unstoppable -
irrepressible as
  hot steam locomotives
   and star combustion,
  waging a crusade 'pon
fire breathing dragons
'tween undulating cloudbursts
       of empyrean's ' stardust
amidst the conformation
       of an unrestrained utopia

The moments fall like the raindrops
Every memory a raindrop makes

The axis of hope spins freely
Free is all we hope to be

There is no beginning to the end
It's simply called eternity

~~
What's coming out from inside
At first I could not understand
Sometimes some words make a pain
Even can make a lot of meaning
Sometimes in vain,
To say that, alone, alone

Then if I aligns those random words
On a white paper
As the Jigsaw,
And if I try to rearrange
It makes a little senses

Sometimes life is like a river flowing to the,
Sings the music of nature
Where Sparrow and Starlings play day and night,
Build their home
Make their family

They feel romance,
Inspired everybody to be romantic
Or Maybe say about the lost Spring
Even can say about the mystic origin of creation

Not just happen
Of Course  there any link between
Gravity of time, its responsibility
Not someone anyone to take

Any love,
Distinct memory,
A few questions
Sometimes those answers matching
Or Sometimes do not match

When the time comes to go back
To its own courtyard
Mystic mesh masks
The seasonal variations

You and me
Our Childhood
Nexus
Love
Everything is slowly faded from
The memory pages
~~
@ Musfiq us shaleheen

There's no secret
just stories to be told
of Love anew
or lovers of old

Not just of people
But love of things
Perhaps a flower
Or bird as it sings

Whether it be nature
Or matters of the heart
The simplest of occurrences
Has a poetic spark

Observation
marrying fantasy
experience
begetting reality

A poet's table
Is a smorgasbord
Consume all you like
There'll always be more