Leave your hands to the begging of mine
and let me see them
Listen
the other side of love
are the ominous days of insanity
I see them
They are running on the paper of your hands
Black and white
They are running like tears and rimes
Like wet-paper poems
dark nights
dark days
My life
What's my life doing in your hands?

Hate what you love
and remove its skin
then make a nice jacket with it
to keep you warm
during the frozen nights
of your loveless life

You do not know her
You do not like her
And she is ugly
But you know everything about her
You know her friends
You have seen her in pictures;
as she change them from time to time
you noticed she got married
you noticed she got pregnant
you noticed she got a baby boy
All just because
You're in the habit of face-book searching
to find the one you loved someday
and she shares a full name with her.

I loved her
and still remember
whenever I opened the door of her house to leave
All her furniture would get up and follow me
I would turn my head and tell
Where?!!
Get back
How big do you think my heart is?

And then one day
love comes again
when she's least expected
when she's not meant to be felt
that day you stand aside
holding your heart in your both hands
feeling sorry for it
and indifferently
let her pass

To my first love
The love you left with me
is a Cinderella shoe my dear
I tried it on many girls
No heart could fit it my dear
no one can fulfill your shoe

Beauty owes her innocence much
which has given her
the courage to ornament
the perfect  masterpiece of God
yet indifferently
is happy with her toy

A poet
and fields of gay-couple ears
waiting to adopt a cradle
from someone-else's
mind
I pity the poet
poor lonesome poet :(

Hatred or love
No matter which has stricken you
Both can sicken your soul
Both are capable of ****** your innocent life

Have you ever watched your love goes away?
It's like
Wild cavalry horses of Tartars storming
Dust and smoke in your soul's  sky
And a  swamp of blood is your  soul's village
you turn and see
all village is destroyed
whipped by fire
your flesh
whipped by fire
your house flesh
there's nobody left to mourn
all ashes everywhere
and now
what's left to live for?
how to live from now on?

Kneeled me down on insanity
Her gravity
Her gravity
Held  my dreams in captivity  
Her gravity
Her gravity
Jumped me from sanity
Her gravity
Her gravity
Both comedy and tragedy
Her gravity
Her gravity
Gave my sins a divinity
Her gravity
Her gravity
Rhythm and melody
Her gravity
Her gravity
Her gravity
Her gravity

You passed
And from your footstep
My Idol started to grow
A girl
Its clay of star dust
Its tress made of the curl of dreams
And a mouth
which I taught it nothing
But I love you
And it does not know that I used to sacrifice the child of true love for you
For that reason there's no blood running beneath her feet

You still pass
And you are visible through the window of dreams at times
I do not know why I still look at you
And I watch your footsteps with
A deep regret of a kiss
I believe
footsteps are more closer to you

To my first love
When you left me
To start your new life
I made you a Tajmahal
Not to rest in it
But to live in it
Not by marble
But by lots of smiles
By lots of good wishes
By lots of still- being- there
For a lover's vow
Is beyond jealousy
Is beyond everything

Yes, I still love you.

I wish your emptiness were not mine as your cuddling was not
I wish your parting were not mine as your coming was not
I wish your sorrow were not mine as your happiness was not
I wish the coldness of your being away were not mine as the warmth of your ******* was not
I wish the stabbing nails of jealousy were not mine as your tender hands were not
And I wish your beauty, your being like an angel and your being this good
had never met my eyes

love is not anatomical
it is a soul which cries
frame me
then we love someone

She
A nightful of fairyness
A moonful of mysteries
A dayful of roses
A sunful of emotions
A riverful of spirit
A seaful of pearls

She was not my girl
She was not my girl

Me
A desertful  of solitude
A seaful of tears
A heartful of poetry
An eyeful of waiting
A roadful of leaving
A guitarful of songs
A bookful of tailes
A dreamful of her


she was not my girll
she was not my girl

Come to my poetry sometime
And meet me with your black birds
there I can feed them with my eyes
there they can teach my eyes to fly
come to my nights
and meet me with your black birds
then let them beak my dreams
come to my humble abode sometime
and let your black birds fly in the sky above
and let them mate with my green birds
pray come sometime
and MEET ME with your black birds

Mother Nature or the Creator is responsible for all our miseries.
I mean she has never given this a second thought that we human beings are a bit different from our siblings: cats, dogs… she says no double standards. Once she created the love to make us get attracted to each other and make babies, by this masterpiece of hers she literally ***** all of us. Around 2 years babies need to be breastfed and then they can walk. This is when Mother Nature decides that's enough; there is no need to have love around anymore.
Now you are on your own and you can get yourself another mate and can bring more babies.
She never noticed human children need a caring family to love them for at least 18 years. And the couples need love to endure the burden of life.
It seems as if she has never heard of psychology. I myself have heard her getting shocked and laughed out loud asking a couple woooow you stuck to each other more than 30 years!!!!???????? You are so funny!

To love a beautiful lady
Is like drinking hot chocolate
To love nature
Is like swimming
To love cartoons
Is like dreaming
To love your children
Is like being a child again
But to love your enemy's heart
Is pure love
Is true love
and the one I love
is my enemy

Would it be called love?
or my epitaph
cause both are telling
what I have gone through
all these moments of
sadness
sorrow
and
solitude
A.H.

My Guitar
My only loved one
today I'm gonna spur you to heaven
I'm gonna play******* on you and get high
take me to the blues
take me to Chicago
take me to the stars
today
I'm gonna tune you to thunders
to resonate off my miseries
and to get a good sustain which is gonna last forever

there is this girl
she's my pencil
her heart is my pencil tip
her eyes are my sharpener
once I broke her heart
and all my poetry left undone

There were words of wishes between us
One made them to forget
One made them to remember
And what that came true
Was my soul
Which became your mate

Just upon a better time
We could set foot to our dreams
We could go to Chicago we could go to Paris
Our fingers could paint
On all white leaves of life
We could turn them Green
We could turn them yellow
We could melodify  
daylines and nightlines
We clould rhythmify this boring world
Just upon an earlier incident
We could touch we could caress
and under the old oak
We could make a good tryst
Alas
Alas
only
upon a better destiny
My poetry could be happier
A.H.

She was cold
My mind
She was bored
She put on her boots
Took her cigarette
And went out
Strolling among stony faces
No face could wear a wrinkle
No ear could bear a ring
There were lots and lost of smiles
Some pink some red
unused and still brand new
all over the streets
She touched her lips to make sure she's wearing them
She had rings too
and so many wrinkles
then there were some smiles piled up in a puddle
She bent to take off her boots
and let her toes touch some
they were cold and wet
She started a vague monologue
to make her bear the city
she was bored with
She wanted to leave
she let other smiles
took her cigarettes
suddenly she realized
a sad face there was
a stony face but he was sad
as if he was not made of stone
with no smile but with a mask
She detected a slight wrinkle under the mask
and a monologue to bear the city too
she told to herself oh God we would make more and more wrinkles
and bear the city till the train comes

Do you remember that night?
we were standing on the balcony of your house watching stars.
I flew.
Proud that I would make you surprised.
But it didn't seem so strange to you at all.
You waved and shouted from below:
"Can you pick me some stars?"
We weren't 6- year old kids anymore. I said to myself: “how come you still don't know these are all suns!”
But I flew higher and higher
Up there, in the sky of the night, I looked at you.
you were so small  and I saw that you were right
All of the stars were pickable.

She knew
Swallows would come in spring time
She went to college
she studied and was taught
then she understood
swallows would come in spring time
she became a Sufi
and practiced mysticism
then she understood
swallows would come in  spring time
she became a master
and finally  God revealed to her
swallows would come in spring time

One night
Not far from this moon
the Hounds of your words
Will find me out
Then I'll begin another life
In disguise of a haiku

Her face was covered by many old masks of a thousand plays
Her head fell down
Shenaaya was her name
The laces of her boots were long and exhausted
In some minutes
She felt the ground on her shoulders
Her face saw the dark blue
There was a circle of light that got its tail in mouth
spined
Then got speed and like a comet fell on the ground
Shenaaya  woke up and said to herself
A new play is calling me
She searched around her lap
And found a new mask
She got the mask and put it on her face
Her hair then turned black just like old days
And said
I'll make the tail golden this time

The last time I left her house
(She was  not there)
Her things followed behind me in a line. All of them
I said: “where”?
“How big do you think my heart is?”
There was a watch among them
with a brown leather strap, so kind, but stunned, with hanging hands
I picked her up
(The only thing I could do)
It was five-thirty then and still, it is.
Today, however, most of those houses are destroyed
That alley has no longer the magic in its long and twisting sleeve
No doorbell, no window, and no eyes who would shine through it
I say to myself
I wish I could have stolen the time

Empty dreams
Empty hopes
a piece of courtship
unclosed
yes, I love you
said the lady
Yes, I still
Said he
he was married
she knew it
she was about to
he knew it
will it last?(our love he meant)
Forever
She replied
" But you leave me"
"Forever "
you loved my letters
said he
I still do
Said she
"You are shivering"
"No touches"
"But you clinch"
"Not forever"
"Coldness will come"
" I'm not a home –breaker"
"Will you love him?"
"I will try"
"Does he call your name like I do?"
"No one does"
"Dose he call you my Tinkerbell?"
"No one dose"
"I should leave now"
"Let me get dressed"
"Will it last?"
"I guess so"
"I changed my mind let's spend a night"
"No touches"
"I promise"

She conceals
an old charm in her hair
that smells sooo good
she inherited the beauty
from the other wife of Adam
Lilith as she is called
And Lilu is what I call this one
Lilu can bewitch all men
And she did that to me
When my tears roll down
she leaves me alone
when I say poetry
she says "good boy"
she is in the habit of
making poets
poor lonesome poets
everyone is kept in a lovecell
to produce poems
when they cannot
Lilu feeds them with her charm
and they say poetry again
if Lilu likes your lines
she drops a kiss
I need  one more line to that kiss
Just one good line

A couch
in some minutes
a ******* it
with a face half dark half flickering bright
and a TV to stare at
a streetlight
with a shiny yellow head
watching the girl through her window
with his soft beams of light
he touches
girl's forehead and one eyebrow
and enjoys it much
then she yawns
a bed
in some minutes
the ******* it
stretching her arm to close the curtain
to darken her room
the streetlight moans
why she never stares at me?

This is the rendition
of the lightning of your eyes
This thunder of memories
that shouts at the cloud of my eyes
To rain

A reflection of vivid colors,
She saw and flew away.
A reflection of pure beauty,
She saw and looked down again.
A reflection of sweet smile,
She saw and returned.
The day after there were not;
no beauty no color no smile.
For the puddle had gone and
left the butterfly in love.

To be me is of budding and blossoming
not of stemming and rooting.
Here I am then not to cultivate
but to shoot
Once being taken up
now let me rain

She closes her eyes
And brows come together.
A quiver of joy leaves her face
Then she sees the book
Left on the floor
The book gets smaller and smaller
To the size of an apple seed
She turns her head.
Her eyes begin to see again
This time
A new vision of true sky

Who I am not if I could mistake me for
I would smoke a ***
and kiss a shot
who I am if I am not
I would laugh not cry not
and fears I would fought
and skip the last page of life

An avalanche
of mellow colors
Over flow her hands
With a great great
jazzy joy
and dances on all streets
I realize she is back in town
a sudden out of tone flood
takes all the  colors down
and paints all the streets
with Bluesy gloom
I realize she is away again

Searching for the truth
she spurred her horse
Saw lands and seas
but she never got close
Found it she not
among all the prose
a dream  then she had
in which she was told:
"Stretch your tent
to the size of the world".
Years and years went by
and she knew last of all
her mind was the tent
and the tent was the truth.

I laid my eyes on the bench
And walked on the lawn of the park
When I looked back I saw nothing
But the dreams I had
all full of the color of your eyes