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  Jun 2016 Kishamore
r
Silence is the Captain
of my nights

His ship slips quietly
like words made of smoke

By the low light of the moon
he guides me

Both lost in this deep ocean
of love and loneliness.
  Jun 2016 Kishamore
Rubab Bashir
Even if its just dream, even if you’re a dream
Let me dream of you
Until all the events become memories
Until I can’t get to see you even if I want to
Until all that is left is me and my torn heart
Let me love you until then
Even if separation is destined
Let me live this moment with you
Even if you end up being someone else last name
Let me call you mine for a second
Let me look at you with all my strength
For tomorrow I now know that you won’t be there anymore
I now know that sun would shine at same time, same place but you won’t be there to watch it with me
I now know that the songs that we are listening would always remain the way they are but we won’t
I now know that world is not changing it’s our treacherous heart that stops feeling the way it once felt.
So let me cherish you with all that I have until one of us doesn’t feel the way we feel
And when that day would come I would turnout in to bubbles and disappear just like a mermaid
But to me you would always remain a midsummer night dream
Warm, sweet and tempting yet short in existence
to the person, who came like Black knight and became midsummer night dream
  Jun 2016 Kishamore
Bret
People think
That when you break something,
It has to make a clang,
Or a rattle
Or a smash.
But
The night my heart broke,
No one heard a thing.
Kishamore Jun 2016
I could inscribe
thousands of feelings
in words
and label them
as poems.
Yet
none of them
will ever truly evoke
why, what and how
I feel.
But
I must say
they're the facsimiles
of my beautiful stormy
thoughts.

© Kishamore
  Jun 2016 Kishamore
Pablo Neruda
And it was at that age...Poetry arrived
in search of me. I don't know, I don't know where
it came from, from winter or a river.
I don't know how or when,
no, they were not voices, they were not
words, nor silence,
but from a street I was summoned,
from the branches of night,
abruptly from the others,
among violent fires
or returning alone,
there I was without a face
and it touched me.

I did not know what to say, my mouth
had no way
with names
my eyes were blind,
and something started in my soul,
fever or forgotten wings,
and I made my own way,
deciphering
that fire
and I wrote the first faint line,
faint, without substance, pure
nonsense,
pure wisdom
of someone who knows nothing,
and suddenly I saw
the heavens
unfastened
and open,
planets,
palpitating planations,
shadow perforated,
riddled
with arrows, fire and flowers,
the winding night, the universe.

And I, infinitesmal being,
drunk with the great starry
void,
likeness, image of
mystery,
I felt myself a pure part
of the abyss,
I wheeled with the stars,
my heart broke free on the open sky.
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