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We have no name
We live no where
No directions leads to us
Meet us by
Knocking the doors of LOVE
And if you see us in
LOVERz eyes
In a BELOVEDz glimpse
YOU may meet us there

~~~~

If Ranjhana didn't sing
If Zuliet didn't dance
The world is to blame
For LOVE's despair

~~~~

I want to remain
The last page of LOVE
Of your life's chapter
Remember...
Once you wept for me
Let tears cleanse my tomb

~~~~

Two incense sticks burn
It's ashes blow in the wind
Like birds - wings in flight
Pollinating LOVE in souls

~~~~

When, Where, How, Why?
Beyond world's prying
No one knows the reasons
Yet we meet everyday
In our secret ways
We LOVE more than live
We dive within each other
To stare at our reflections

~~~~

Destiny is our bride
Fate - our groom,
And
Even if we are apart
It is LOVE's light
Illuminating NOOR
Uniting our SOUL



A Tribute
  Aug 2018 Mohamed Nasir
Hashim ZK
flame of memory
enshrouds the world in darkness
a melted wax drips
I'd written this a few years back. On 28-03-2012 to be precise. This is the only haiku I have attempted so far.

Anyway, I stumbled upon this in my notes, and thought I might as well share it here.
when two hearts fall in love . they both beat as one
and forever more the love it will go on
happiness and joy this your love will share
each and everyday love is always there.

there to last a life time. and eternally
and forever more the love will always be
inside your heart for ever. your love will always stay
there inside your heart. until your dying day.
Mohamed Nasir Aug 2018
upon a branch a pair of doves sit
and doesn't bend the branch a bit

it doesn't for being light and easy
no cares weighted responsibility

be weighted by gravity pins us tie
to earth for we're not meant to fly

as human wears heavy the crown
of  ******* of  the appointed one

crooing on a branch the lovers sit
the branch they sit don't hurt a bit.
Mohamed Nasir Aug 2018
What does a painter do? A painter paints.
Of paintings inspired by the universe;
Of legends luminous as pious saints.
But people like me work to fill my purse.
Not artisan by trade nor rich merchant,
With rough and stubby fingers callused palms,
I'll starve if I were the master's servant
And soon to take the streets to beg for alms.
I paint for sake of commerce not for art;
I paint all kinds of buildings, houses, schools.
None enters, jobs can't start till I depart;
Scrappers, ladders, paints, brushes are my tools.
Do what I'm commissioned to do. To paint.
But Leonardo or Angelo I ain't.
  Aug 2018 Mohamed Nasir
Mark
Reflective lining bears the passing years
of crinkles carved and worn to that of age
and from the mirrored galls a hearse appears
with thought to carry; when shall death upstage?

This day? When larks resound of warbling birds
as garden's glaze, the vernal blossom glows
amongst are playful kin of callow words
and yonder meadow green, my love in pose.  

Caressed by cherry blossoms, from a time
when youth we swayed beneath that ruby tree,
her amber curls would kiss verdure in prime
with lissom twirls that blessed my eyes to see.

When I shall drift away from worldly plush
and leave I shall, let not; in springtime lush.
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