I see the man who sleeps under the bridge,
he sings my song,  doesn't subscribe to your point of view,
lives between the gaps,  in places you've never seen,
he doesn't see the flag you wave,
nor cares to carry the message it bears
he see's the powers that be watching you fall,
marching to the beat of the new democracy,
freedom from the back of your privilege class,
while we all walk on the broken glass,
he hears the birds sing of a call to arms,
high in the tree's beyond your ivory towers,
through his tears we see it's time for a change,
as the wind blows through your corridors of power,
I'll search for the man who sleeps under the bridge.

.
*your words formed in heaven
and then to leave
pained in hell
then to resist

on going, the way turned to bend
in the end, the end couldn't be seen
then continued to move,
that is to say celestial

words within too many words, make a wreath of the words,
maybe tell a fairytale,
simple words have lost in melody, tune
steadfast sight of the beautiful seen, mystic in the midst of the road

alone, then after alone, painted the portrait of thy
joy of life music,
weaving the words, craving a poetry
comes at a time, loss at untimely

maybe born in dreams
within too many words, a few perches into soul
to create forms, what an amazing ties!
ah, this poetry book has lost in poetry!
..
@Musfiq us shaleheen

Her fingers curl.

Gently, at first.
A child laughs.
And the wind chimes,
the bird’s coo–
they laugh with her, too.

Her fingers curl.
Tighter.

The asphyxia is new.
The sacks of bones,

–so bold, weren’t we?–

white heads, the wrinkles,
the ill memories–

Her fingers curl.
And she keeps laughing,
without us, too.

Friend, don’t give in.
I’m drowning in knees,
they are up to my chest
and I can’t breathe.

But we can flush,
and maybe “purge”,
can mean rebirth.

How, When, Where and Why?

There's certain things in life that we don't understand.
Whether its the thought of leaving someplace you have accustomed to..
Or leaving people you love and have made friends with behind..
Even if it was just a few days, months or years the special ones always leave a footprint and somewhere down the line you think of them, the ones closest more often than ever.
Then you wonder if u'l ever know where you think it's best for u, you keep living.. And wonder where?

The feeling of regrets, mistakes or chances you never took. You'll never know where you may have been led to.. If only.. But you havnt. And you'll never know..

The regret of you letting down someone, or you led someone to let u down.. It all counts in its wierd ways.. But u just don't seem to understand why..

Everything happens for a reason.. We all think of this at some stage of our life.. But when the reason goes unexplained, it builds stress and more often than never it breaks confidence and brings fear..
Again.. We never know why..

I'm sitting here, unable to find sleep or rest in my mind.. Unable to stop thinking and rest my eyes..
Unable to stop thinking of the beautiful moments that have passed and then start to wonder how much I will miss it from happening again..
Again.. You never know how..

It's the sadness or hole in ur heart that hurts the most, and while u wait for that little piece to fall in place, sometimes it never does, and you begging to look for a substitute to give u that stable pounding of your heart beat.. And again.. You'll never know when..

Then we cross the stage where we think, patience will be a key.. I'm still here with patience.. Wondering when the betterment would arrive.
Coz I've been hurt a zillion times, and i still havnt seen the light..
I wonder, if I'd ever know, why?, when?, and how?, or where I'd ever be finding peace to my heartbeat again!!!

They say the way you look kills,
I'll tell you what they didn't tell you..
Your smile gives birth..
Smile. It's charity!

Respect me and I shall protect 
you with my life!
Step on me and I double dare
you to NOT be spared!

~~
Those might have been told in any other way
but you could not understand
No, No this is not a spring song
Not even a fairytale

An exclusive secret,
a pain which originates within a love,
reverberates with the rebel song,
within your known sky, wind

Naturally has seen in dreams
Rarely meets with the real
Crops of thousand wishes,
As the Vinci's Mona Lisa

Truly forms in nature
which has a vitreous luster
As the Crystal of Sapphire blue
where the beauty beyond

Of the words mystery unveiled,
yet the fascination of the Poe's uncovered poetry,
As the fathomless depth of Mid Atlantic ridge,
which goes a long way

Tastes like the first kisses of love
which is full of longing
where whole life is covered with dissatisfaction,  
within the prospect of ever known

Like an old wine
where levels of alcohol is too high
After spreeing over the night,
Still hanging in,
Even after taking the morning black coffee
~~
@ Musfiq us shaleheen