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 Feb 2023
Mohd Arshad
Butterfly is a
Colourful canvas where poem
Finds its perfect sketch
 Feb 2023
Mohd Arshad
You and me
Two rails of a railway track


So close
Still apart forever
 Feb 2023
Mohd Arshad
I have a fresh rose
                   in my hands
                                Still I smell only you
 Feb 2023
Mohd Arshad
You            so
                and            close
                 me             ever
                are              still
                two             always
               parts           separate
                 of
               the
              railway
               track
 Feb 2023
Mohd Arshad
Who is there?
Oh, it's Winter on the pyre!
Who are groaning?
Oh, Frost, Fog and Snow
Are on the galloping gallows!
He would bounce back I know,
But I don't care about Phoenix.
Everyone is glad for the golden days.
Let us go out to sip this beauty!
Don't you see the day is delicious!
See! See! See!
Earth is wearing gleaming-grass;
Daffodils are unfolding
Their golden-yellow cheeks;
Bluebells and daisies are dancing in joys.
Hear! Hear! Hear!
Swallows are fluting their rhymes;
And cuckoos are playing their sweet tunes.
Now I pine for taking
Purple hyacinths from those
Whose hearts are pricked
By my thorny words.
Let us dole out
Snowdrops, lilies and poppies to everyone;
And to you I will give tulips.

Let us cheer
Like the cheering cherry blossoms!
 Feb 2023
Mohd Arshad
I have a fresh rose in my pockets,
But I still smell you, my darling!
 Feb 2023
Mohd Arshad
I have a fresh rose in my pockets,
But I still smell you, my darling!
020123

Even the oceans welcome me
To be drowned in the depths of Your majesty.
You are the King of Peace, the Lord of lords
And you don’t just sit down
In my mind palace
But you dwell in my innermost being…

I breathe as my lungs dry out
I have no words to utter…
No thoughts to ponder…
But every bit of me
Is like puzzle pieces
Of your masterpiece within me.

When I do good, I recognize it is Your heart
And it isn’t all about me…
My life is not my own…
Every trial makes me human
But Faith turns me back to You —
To surrender in the Ocean’s infinite…
And see that Your way is the best…
Because it always points out to You!

The peace you leave in my heart
Like a tattoo that reminds me of who You are,
And Your Words are not empty…
It is life for those who find it…
The only hope that we can ever boast.

The pain, the loss, the disappointments
I can’t count one by one
But just one word from you
Is enough to bounce me back…
In You, I found my identity
For I know You call me Your “beloved.”

The victories, the joy, the peace
Everything good
Makes Your Name claim its place
A place of Your throne, a place of Your own…
You make a home within me —
Not a tenement, but a temple.

All things depict Your glory
And even the darkness loses its power.
The dead air and the crispy sounds of every fallen leaf…
The melody of hope ignites
As the fire turned to blue…
I am nothing without You,
And I can’t do anything without You…
Bury me in Your arms, Lord…
 Jan 2023
irinia
Transformation:
one into many &
many into one

the bird of paradise
half truth and half lie
it's not pure fiction
but pure singing
or intensity of the dark light

this vibration of your U(nconscios)
is a floating vessel
(sunk into mystery)
for my dreams
mine is for yours and for her
and for them
this is the way we meet
It's scary and wonderful
to recognize each other
some mirrors are crazy
light hides itself best in the dark
and darkness hides itself
best in the brightest of lights

there are too many layers
of liquid meanings in this
creature called life -
the same way
the ocean is carrying
different layers of
pressure and dark

the bird of paradise
dissolves itself
into singing cause
this is the only way
to meet its music
a bird constantly changing
the shape of its wings
to accomodate danger -
the danger of being alive
on your own
day after night
the bird of paradise exists only
in poetry which distills the irrationality of life
reality protects itself with boundaries
for poetry not to destroy its might
 Dec 2022
irinia
my winter eyes are epic
emptied of the seduction
of never dying days
for now
but
still looking for an incantation:
this field this wave this sway
this maze this daze
the soul's substance
untranslatable
allusive
perfumed

some find it in the dark recesses
some insist it doesnt't exist
I contemplate blankness inside
my skin
my mind just a dream catcher
for illusions
a suspended note
an erasable tape
a network for the delicate architecture of moss
or was it mold?
some words have no heart at all
and we need canyons of tenderness, paths of joy
is it time that is dripping its imagination
in this turmoil?

the irrationality of mornings of violins of drums
strikes a chord inside
what is the basis of harmony?
so many shapes of wonder
on bridges, shores, sidewalks and hills
and valleys of the unknown
full of space atoms

a spirit of a shaman sits beside me
she calls me soul surfer
perhaps
god is
part violence
part beauty
part wonder
and I fall for it
when I find it
in the flesh
of the heart
only
 Dec 2022
irinia
that moment of terrifiying beauty
for which there is no language
only a foam of primordial letters
and the possibility of cosmos

the hours cascading in his veins
it was so natural and shocking:
he was my hidden black whole
(the black whole one thought crosses to another)
and with my bare feet on the blade of the horizon
I was bleeding curses
promises to the unknown
confessions of sublime intensity

the terror of beauty so real
as we danced that mysterious dance
of light turning effortlessly into darkness
of darkness turning effortlessly into
light

it all starts in pieces
maybe I was his morphine
and he was rebelling against
every fragment of unhealed time
in his shoulders.
with him I discovered a new sea of time and
fused with my roots
I rest suspended in the chaos of possibility
to the end of my undreamed dreams
as he was hallucinating my younger selves
anew

we opened the other dimensions of time
descended into flesh
without really knowing
how coherent pain can be
and I could go on and on and on, like the beat
we were only a poem
without destination
but the possibility
of cosmos
 Nov 2022
irinia
silence was improvising in my eyes
in this tender fog between one moment
and this moment
and I could see the old love approaching
to invade me
to intoxicate me
with its hypnotic violence
this love like a fossilized wood in their gaze
came to visit me
again
with so many faces
so many whispers
it was as if angels had descended
on the barren land and
with their unthought hands
were tenderly carressing
the old bones unsung
what else could have I done
than
open my eyes and dream
the palimpsest of forgotten dreams
forged in the greatest intensity
of all the fleeting moments
in which
they blinked

(I need to shelter my heart from
the silence of decaying leaves
from the violence of life destroying
itself)
031320

This too shall pass, Lord —
There is no weakness in You
Your Name brings healing and salvation
You are our strong tower,
That tower who’s ever above every wave.

You see each that strikes one’s bones
And You always go straight to rescue
Even one tends to sleep at night or day.

You are our security in this fading generation,
The Redeemer of our soul
Who calms our raging seas.

And so we let go of our burdens and worries
And choose to magnify Your Name,
Above all, You are God
You are the King who’s on the Throne.
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