Its only me and them. Everyone else has left me. I only have them to talk to. Why.. They are there everyday.. I can't escape even if when I want to. They hold me by my thoart looking me with their black eyes starring into my soul. They tear me down as I try to fight. I fight for my life.. But I'm losing this war. I keep failing at the mission.. There is no escape from them.

The silk of nature the gentle hands of  
   a loving mother placidly rubbing
                      swollen feet

The crystal of murmaids shimmering
   ashore mirroring the rainbows as
     though a priceless gold infused
             with diamonds of God

I'm lost in bliss gazing at the beauty
        of this magnificent field of
                     transparency

I'm tilted and insist that you know I am grateful now here we
are-
an alliance. Let's see ourselves onwards, be borne by our
fondness-in accord, be our love for the colloquy.

Spry, exuberant. We are free spirits draining oceans of ink, bathing in rivers of lies to find the truth while saturated by pride.
We are propelled to propinquity, as we seek for a better prospect while drowning in propensity.

Our hearts bleed onto the paper,
wanting more love of passion
to spill out endlessly,
so others can relate
to share this burning fire
Deep within our souls.
we seek endlessly for acceptance and relatability,
with someone who we can feel
safe to share these wonderful feelings,
feelings of want from our vulnerable hearts.

In sharing our vulnerable hearts,
I becomes We
the divine flame burns brightly, guiding lonely souls
to meet heart to heart on this happy road of destiny
a stream of gratitude flows from our bloods, and we discover that we write to connect
to the divine source that empties us and fills us.

/
Many days
I do not read any newspaper
Even do not see television
At all
Many days have gone
After You
I do not read any poetry

How to feel that since this morning!
Repeatedly hear identifying tunes on the air

Your arrival in the sky,
The air reverberates
Looks like another day
In the Paradise,
In another song,
Which brings the soul
The Aroma

Everyone is coming out
From all sides
Young Old
Babies Boys
Women Men
Everyone
Everyone is clapping
Singing the song of the same tune
This song is not the song of Rain
Not even a lamentation

The Southern breeze whispering your words
Slowly Said,
The Little Tailor Bird
No, No,
Not such a summer afternoon
Not even a hurricane warning

Each of the human eye
Follow the Eastern Sky  
Tireless Eye
Watching the sun,
The Red Sun,
You went to bring dreams for us
From the Sun

Hundreds of thousands of people
In his next question
Hand with Flower
Shoulder to Shoulder
Today will be the day of strangers,
The poet will come
We are standing in the flowers
Fist full of dreams to take

Float in the sky with white clouds
My dreams are calling again
Today is not such an Autumn
But Still feel like an Autumn
Indeed,  
The poet will come,
A poem in the New

Where each word will be spoken dream
Love to be evacuated
Poems that will repay
The debt to my Ancestor
Take revenge on thee
For their injustice,
Torture
Poems that would bring the stars
For our next generation
A poem that would bring the red rose for my darling,
Would bring such a smile to my mother's face
As Moon that smile
And that is simply killed false dreams
Will we ever Released
Sing Freedom Songs

The Poet,
My beloved Poet
You will come,
Will surely come
And will recite your immortal poem
/

@ Musfiq us shaleheen

I thought poetry was a series of
notes and rhythms;
had to sing myself to sleep
with a voice too raspy from the tears.

I didn't know poetry was the coma
you wake up from
when you find the right words
to express your thoughts.

I didn't know it was
the lonely you feel
on the nights surrounded by humans
but no people.

So I waited and prayed for the words,
didn't let poetry bring me to my knees.
Praise God,
praise God we can express ourselves.

And I would've never believed
that poetry would make you
feel alive in the pain,
proud in the shame,
forever changed.

Back when I thought poetry rhymed.