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Dr zik  Mar 2015
WHERE ARE YOU?
Dr zik Mar 2015
You are in my conscious, hope, unconscious, wish, doubt
Your existence unshakable, hidden, obvious
                                         Start is You and end is You, yes and no is You!
Hidden in the core of heart, Owner, Tenant You!
Your Messenger has granted me such a caring light
                                         Start is You and end is You, yes and no is You!
You are with me O’ my Lord! sound speech is You!
Send is You receive is You, dealt and deal is You!
                                         Start is You and end is You, yes and no is You!
A call arose in my heart; go towards the Lord!
A wondrous way started: soul; attracted by You!'
                                         Start is You and end is You, yes and no is You!
You made me conscious of day; it’s prime of life
You are recognizer Lord; sign and soul is You!
                                         Start is You and end is You, yes and no is You!
To my mind there is only You; so seeking You!
How could I lose my Lord? Where? nowhere You?
                                         Start is You and end is You, yes and no is You!
I am feeling felt is You; deal and done is You!
I am fan and fun is You; all and One is You!
                                         Start is You and end is You, yes and no is You!
A translation of my own poem written in Urdu language. The name of book is "RAH TAKTI AANKH (راہ تکتی آنکھ)"
Brain, brain go away
Don't want to listen one more day
Already lonely and afraid
Feel insecure and full of shame

Brain, brain don't act this way
You're always angry; Filled with hate
You know we're joined; Can't separate
Yourself your punching in the face

Brain, brain what can I say
To make it so you see things straight
Don't know how much more I can take
Of constant warring and debate

Brain, brain it's getting late
This journey's not some endless race
Life's flying by and at this pace
Forget a win; Not gonna place

Brain, brain let's medicate
I'll feed you drugs and we'll sedate
The only way to mitigate
Discrepancies we generate

Brain, brain we sadly waste
This outcome feels like it was fate
But never was there a sealed date
Fulfilling what we self-create

Brain, brain so much we faced
Success so close could almost taste
Instead our tail we always chased
We'll die alone sad and disgraced
Written: March 6, 2019

All rights reserved.
[Iambic Tetrameter format]
Wangui  Jun 2017
Conscious beads.
Wangui Jun 2017
I wear beads and  African bracelets for beauty. I forget why the people before me wore them. I wear them with pride not because I earned them but because I simply look beautiful. Beautiful!? What does that even mean? My Nana has scars on her body. She shows them to me with pride. Narrates stories of the war in the past like an action movie only she didn't have a gun only bows and poisonous arrows. The missing teeth in her mouth causes her to spit almost every second she talks. But this embarrassment is only felt by me. She is proud of the hole in her mouth. Suddenly I feel the urge to remove my African beads. They have no meaning only that they are African and I am and so am entitled. But I have done nothing for my heritage. Not even fight for it. Slowly it's being forgotten and people are crossing over without a care in the world. 'To civilisation' we say.  'For the good of the people' we say. But is it? We were a community wrong as we were to circumcise women, marry them off at an early age, burn the wrong... We were a community. We loved each other. We cared. We taught our children how to feel and be the earth. We taught our children to respect the earth and in return the earth blesses us with herbs to cure. What did they call it? Aaah yes 'witchcraft'. We were not animals who forget their children in  pit latrines or by the river side just because we cannot afford them or don't want them. We cared not of individualism because together we grew in spirit, body and soul. It was not backward it was culture. And culture is flexible. It can change but can never be terminated. It is not a shoe that when you grow out of  you throw and buy another.
And so I am not telling you to go back to your roots because if am quite honest you were never in it. Rather embrace it. See how 'civilised' you will feel then.

yours
The Red_Head
Shin Dec 2013
I don't know how to write happy poems
because I don't really believe in them.
I thought angst would die with adolescence,
but alas I can still feel its cold dint.

Perhaps like virginity this goes too;
no longer a creep standing idly by.
Plastic smiles taped to our cardboard faces
and yours alone I felt the need to prise.

That's okay, because the teenaged rosebud
that we claim to be so very unique
is beginning to wither, can't you see?
And now it's the thorns society seeks.

So look out over yonder cityscape.
Your mask shall be shed only by the moon.
Until then, a cartographer of love;
yours that is, we'll still pathetically swoon.
Mary Alexander Dec 2017
i thought about you today.
quite a ****** experience, to be honest.
the iron box full of
sick confessionals that is your heart
made me squint at the wall in front of me.
my pen stopped writing and fell
down my frayed scrap of paper
like a raindrop on a car window, and
i felt like a child confronted by a nasty bug.
picturing your face.
im still staring at the wall wondering
if these thoughts deserve any
complex, wrinkled thesaurus found words.
i frown as i notice a crack in the paint.
they dont.
Umi Aug 2018
Tell your tale to the wind,
Be scattered across the sky, sing without ever being rewarded,
The falling of the leafs may be a sign of change, a warning of colder times crossing your path in this loitering darkness which takes over,
Allure is the thought of hope guiding, leading, escorting you through the misery of your own conscious, out to a far more pleasant world.
Wretched, you fight on as it slowly slips away, loses its strengh,
It is heartbreaking to watch them trying to get back, not flinching despite their wounds and scars they carry from the river of time,
Stained in crimson at last the flower petals of the falling season, reflect upon death repeatedly, with each one falling the soil cries out.
Take a dance with me in this distorted somber dark there is nothing to be sad about, the fate to be forgotten is the fate of every face, one day,
They wither over like the roses during autumn, fall from grace alike the petals of the sunflowers when their time to leave for the next generation has come, or alike the dandelions scattering their seeds,
But most importantly, is to not forget that whilst existing you can make a change, for yourself, for the better, for others,
Maybe you are their light their flower of a spring dream.
Even if humans continue to live wretchedly,
Living, is what I find very beautiful.

~ Umi
Don't cross the border of the conscious too early, fall when the time to wither has come.
Tammy M Darby Mar 2017
Drunk with madness and spirits
With the devil, they whirl

Dressed in daggers pockets ring with coin
The skies feared the words of the night birds’ song
The cold brook whispered of blood on the rocks
The half-moon bowed to the Lord of dark

Hand in hand with the Horned God dance
Frenzied and ensnared in evils trance
Kneel to him who fears the touch of light
So passed the willing victims
And their souls lept high

Wayward souls of the conscious world
Drunk with madness and spirits
With the devil, they whirl

All Rights Reserved @ Tammy M. Darby Mar. 13, 2017
All Material Stored in Author base
September Roses Jun 2018
You're nervous
A bit of a wreck
But you never fail to smile at yourself when you mess up
As you always do

You're damaged
That much is clear
But your smooth laugh puts the whole room at ease
No matter how scarcely it surfaces

You've been hurt by everyone
Yourself included
But you'd rather die
Than put someone down
Because you truly believe every achievement is worth all the stars in the sky

You're quiet
Sometimes it's a little annoying
But who can blame you
You mean no harm

You're self conscious
I mean arent we all
But you put everyone else back together so they cant resist to love themselves a little more
No matter how much
You
This stupid
Stupid
Boy

Hate yourself
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