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Michael R Burch Sep 2020
Urdu Poetry: English Translations



You will never comprehend me:
I pour out my feelings; you only read the words!
―original poet unknown, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch



Tears are colorless―thank God!―
otherwise my pillow might betray my heart.
―original poet unknown, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch



Near Sainthood
by Mirza Ghalib
loose translation/interpretation by Kanu V. Prajapati and Michael R. Burch

On the subject of mystic philosophy, Ghalib,
your words might have struck us as deeply profound ...
Hell, we might have pronounced you a saint,
if only we hadn't found
you drunk
as a skunk!

There are more English translations of poems by Mirza Ghalib later on this page.



Every Once in a While
by Amjad Islam Amjad
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Every once in a while,
immersed in these muggy nights
when all earth’s voices seem to have fallen
into the bruised-purple silence of half-sleep,
I awaken from a wonderful dream
to see through the veil that drifts between us
that you too are companionless and wide awake.



First Rendezvous
by Amjad Islam Amjad
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

This story of the earth
is as old as the universe,
as old as the birth
of the first day and night.

This story of the sky
is included in the words we casually uttered,
you and I,
and yet it remains incomplete, till the end of sight.

This earth and all the scenes it contains
remain witnesses to the moment
when you first held my hand
as we watched the world unfolding, together.

This world
became the focus
for the first rendezvous
between us.



Impossible and Improbable Visions
by Amjad Islam Amjad
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Eyes interpret visions,
rainbow auras waver;
similar scenes appear
different to individual eyes,
as innumerable oases
coexist in one desert
or a single thought acquires
countless shapes.



I Have to Find My Lost Star
by Amjad Islam Amjad
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Searching the emptiest of skies
overflowing with innumerable stars,
I have to find the one
that belongs
to me.

...

Gazing at galaxies beyond galaxies,
all glorious with evolving wonder,
I ponder her name,
finding no sign to remember.

...

Lost things, they say,
are sometimes found
in the same accumulations of dust
where they once vanished.

I have to find the lost star
that belongs to me.



Last Night
by Faiz Ahmed Faiz
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Last night, your memory stole into my heart―
as spring sweeps uninvited into barren gardens,
as morning breezes reinvigorate dormant deserts,
as a patient suddenly feels better, for no apparent reason ...

There are more English translations of poems by Faiz Ahmed Faiz later on this page.



Intimacy
by Rahat Indori
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

I held the Sun, Stars and Moon at a distance
till the time your hands touched mine.
Now I am not a feather to be easily detached:
instruct the hurricanes and tornados to observe their limits!

There are more English translations of poems by Rahat Indori later on this page.



Strange Currents
by Amir Khusrow
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

O Khusrow, the river of love
creates strange currents—
the one who would surface invariably drowns,
while the one who submerges, survives.

There are more English translations of poems by Amir Khusrow later on this page.



The Eager Traveler
by Ahmad Faraz
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Even in the torture chamber, I was the lucky one;
when each lottery was over, unaccountably I had won.

And even the mightiest rivers found accessible refuge in me;
though I was called an arid desert, I turned out to be the sea.

And how sweetly I remember you—oh, my wild, delectable love!—
as the purest white blossoms bloom, on talented branches above.

And while I’m half-convinced that folks adore me in this town,
still, all the hands I kissed held knives and tried to shake me down.

You lost the battle, my coward friend, my craven enemy,
when, to victimize my lonely soul, you sent a despoiling army.

Lost in the wastelands of vast love, I was an eager traveler,
like a breeze in search of your fragrance, a vagabond explorer.

There are more English translations of poems by Ahmad Faraz later on this page.



The Condition of My Heart
by Munir Niazi
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

It is not necessary for anyone else to get excited:
The condition of my heart is not the condition of hers.
But were we to receive any sort of good news, Munir,
How spectacular compared to earth's mundane sunsets!

There are more English translations of poems by Munir Niazi later on this page.



Failures
by Nida Fazli
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

I was unable to relate
the state
of my heart to her,
while she failed to infer
the nuances
of my silences.



Apni Marzi se
by Nida Fazli Shayari
translated by Mandakini Bhattacherya and Michael R. Burch

This journey was not of my making;
As the winds blow, I’m blown along ...
Time and dust are my ancient companions;
Who knows where I’m bound or belong?

There are more English translations of poems by Nida Fazli later on this page.



My Apologies, Sona
by Gulzar
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

My apologies, Sona,
if traversing my verse's terrain
in these torrential rains
inconvenienced you.

The monsoons are unseasonal here.

My poems' pitfalls are sometimes sodden.
Water often overflows these ditches.
If you stumble and fall here, you run the risk
of spraining an ankle.

My apologies, however,
if you were inconvenienced
because my dismal verse lacks light,
or because my threshold's stones
interfered as you passed.

I have often cracked toenails against them!

As for the streetlamp at the intersection,
it remains unlit ... endlessly indecisive.

If you were inconvenienced,
you have my heartfelt apologies!

There are more English translations of poems by Gulzar later on this page.



Come As You Are
by Rabindranath Tagore
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Come as you are, forget appearances!
Is your hair untamable, your part uneven, your bodice unfastened? Never mind.
Come as you are, forget appearances!

Skip with quicksilver steps across the grass.
If your feet glisten with dew, if your anklets slip, if your beaded necklace slides off? Never mind.
Skip with quicksilver steps across the grass.

Do you see the clouds enveloping the sky?
Flocks of cranes erupt from the riverbank, fitful gusts ruffle the fields, anxious cattle tremble in their stalls.
Do you see the clouds enveloping the sky?

You loiter in vain over your toilet lamp; it flickers and dies in the wind.
Who will care that your eyelids have not been painted with lamp-black, when your pupils are darker than thunderstorms?
You loiter in vain over your toilet lamp; it flickers and dies in the wind.

Come as you are, forget appearances!
If the wreath lies unwoven, who cares? If the bracelet is unfastened, let it fall. The sky grows dark; it is late.
Come as you are, forget appearances!



Unfit Gifts
by Rabindranath Tagore
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

At sunrise, I cast my nets into the sea,
dredging up the strangest and most beautiful objects from the depths ...
some radiant like smiles, some glittering like tears, others flushed like brides’ cheeks.
When I returned, staggering under their weight, my love was relaxing in her garden, idly tearing leaves from flowers.
Hesitant, I placed all I had produced at her feet, silently awaiting her verdict.
She glanced down disdainfully, then pouted: "What are these bizarre things? I have no use for them!"
I bowed my head, humiliated, and thought:
"Truly, I did not contend for them; I did not purchase them in the marketplace; they are unfit gifts for her!"
That night I flung them, one by one, into the street, like refuse.
The next morning travelers came, picked them up and carted them off to exotic countries.



The Seashore Gathering
by Rabindranath Tagore
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

On the seashores of endless worlds, earth's children converge.
The infinite sky is motionless, the restless waters boisterous.
On the seashores of endless worlds earth's children gather to dance with joyous cries and pirouettes.
They build sand castles and play with hollow shells.
They weave boats out of withered leaves and laughingly float them out over the vast deep.
Earth's children play gaily on the seashores of endless worlds.
They do not know, yet, how to cast nets or swim.
Divers fish for pearls and merchants sail their ships, while earth's children skip, gather pebbles and scatter them again.
They are unaware of hidden treasures, nor do they know how to cast nets, yet.
The sea surges with laughter, smiling palely on the seashore.
Death-dealing waves sing the children meaningless songs, like a mother lullabying her baby's cradle.
The sea plays with the children, smiling palely on the seashore.
On the seashores of endless worlds earth's children meet.
Tempests roam pathless skies, ships lie wrecked in uncharted waters, death wanders abroad, and still the children play.
On the seashores of endless worlds there is a great gathering of earth's children.



This Dog
by Rabindranath Tagore
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Each morning this dog,
who has become quite attached to me,
sits silently at my feet
until, gently caressing his head,
I acknowledge his company.

This simple recognition gives my companion such joy
he shudders with sheer delight.

Among all languageless creatures
he alone has seen through man entire—
has seen beyond what is good or bad in him
to such a depth he can lay down his life
for the sake of love alone.

Now it is he who shows me the way
through this unfathomable world throbbing with life.

When I see his deep devotion,
his offer of his whole being,
I fail to comprehend ...

How, through sheer instinct,
has he discovered whatever it is that he knows?

With his anxious piteous looks
he cannot communicate his understanding
and yet somehow has succeeded in conveying to me
out of the entire creation
the true loveworthiness of man.



Being
by Momin Khan Momin
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

You are so close to me
that no one else ever can be.

NOTE: There is a legend that the great Urdu poet Mirza Ghalib offered all his diwan (poetry collections) in exchange for this one sher (couplet) by Momin Khan Momin. Does the couplet mean "be as close" or "be, at all"? Does it mean "You are with me in a way that no one else can ever be?" Or does it mean that no one else can ever exist as truly as one's true love? Or does this sher contain an infinite number of elusive meanings, like love itself?



Being (II)
by Momin Khan Momin
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

You alone are with me when I am alone.
You are beside me when I am beside myself.
You are as close to me as everyone else is afar.
You are so close to me that no one else ever can be.



Perhaps
by Momin Khan Momin
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

The cohesiveness between us, you may remember or perhaps not.
Our solemn oaths of faithfulness, you may remember, or perhaps forgot.
If something happened that was not to your liking,
the shrinking away that produces silence, you may remember, or perhaps not.
Listen, the sagas of so many years, the promises you made amid time's onslaught,
which you now fail to mention, you may remember or perhaps not.
These new resentments, those often rehashed complaints,
these lighthearted and displeasing stories, you may remember, or perhaps forgot.
Some seasons ago we shared love and desire, we shared joy ...
That we once were dear friends, you may have perhaps forgot.
Now if we come together, by fate or by chance, to express old loyalties ...
Our every shared breath, all our sighs and regrets, you may remember, or perhaps not.



What Happened to Them?
by Nasir Kazmi
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Those who came ashore, what happened to them?
Those who sailed away, what happened to them?

Those who were coming at dawn, when dawn never arrived ...
Those caravans en route, what happened to them?

Those I awaited each night on moonless paths,
Who were meant to light beacons, what happened to them?

Who are these strangers surrounding me now?
All my lost friends and allies, what happened to them?

Those who built these blazing buildings, what happened to them?
Those who were meant to uplift us, what happened to them?

NOTE: This poignant poem was written about the 1947 partition of India into two nations: India and Pakistan. I take the following poem to be about the aftermath of the division.



Climate Change
by Nasir Kazmi
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

The songs of our silenced lips are different.
The expressions of our regretful hearts are different.

In milder climes our grief was more tolerable,
But the burdens we bear now are different.

O, walkers of awareness's road, keep your watch!
The obstacles strewn on this stony path are different.

We neither fear separation, nor desire union;
The anxieties of my rebellious heart are different.

In the first leaf-fall only flowers fluttered from twigs;
This year the omens of autumn are different.

This world lacks the depth to understand my heartache;
Please endow me with melodies, for my cry is different!

One disconcerting glance bared my being;
Now in barren fields my visions are different.

No more troops, nor flags. Neither money, nor fame.
The marks of the monarchs on this land are different.

Men are not martyred for their beloveds these days.
The youths of my youth were so very different!



Nasir Kazmi Couplets

When I was a child learning to write
my first scribblings were your name.
―Nasir Kazmi, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

When my feet lost the path
where was your hand?
―Nasir Kazmi, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Everything I found is yours;
everything I lost is also yours.
―Nasir Kazmi, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch



Memory
by Faiz Ahmed Faiz, as performed by Iqbal Bano
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

In the wastelands of solitude, my love,
the echoes of your voice quiver,
the mirages of your lips waver.

In the deserts of alienation,
out of the expanses of distance and isolation's debris
the fragrant jasmines and roses of your presence delicately blossom.

Now from somewhere nearby,
the warmth of your breath rises,
smoldering forth an exotic perfume―gently, languorously.

Now far-off, across the distant horizon,
drop by shimmering drop,
fall the glistening dews of your beguiling glances.

With such tenderness and affection—oh my love!—
your memory has touched my heart's cheek so that it now seems
the sun of separation has set; the night of blessed union has arrived.



Speak!
by Faiz Ahmed Faiz
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Speak, if your lips are free.
Speak, if your tongue is still your own.
While your body is still upright,
Speak if your life is still your own.



Tonight
by Faiz Ahmed Faiz
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Do not strike the melancholy chord tonight! Days smoldering
with pain in the end produce only listless ashes ...
and who the hell knows what the future may bring?
Last night’s long lost, tomorrow's horizon’s a wavering mirage.
And how can we know if we’ll see another dawn?
Life is nothing, unless together we make it ring!
Tonight we are love gods! Sing!

Do not strike the melancholy chord tonight!
Don’t harp constantly on human suffering!
Stop complaining; let Fate conduct her song!
Give no thought to the future, seize now, this precious thing!
Shed no more tears for temperate seasons departed!
All sighs of the brokenhearted soon weakly dissipate ... stop dithering!
Oh, do not strike the same flat chord again! Sing!



When Autumn Came
by Faiz Ahmed Faiz
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

So it was that autumn came to flay the trees,
to strip them ****,
to rudely abase their slender dark bodies.

Fall fell in vengeance on the dying leaves,
flung them down to the floor of the forest
where anyone could trample them to mush
undeterred by their sighs of protest.

The birds that herald spring
were exiled from their songs—
the notes ripped from their sweet throats,
they plummeted to the earth below, undone
even before the hunter strung his bow.

Please, gods of May, have mercy!
Bless these disintegrating corpses
with the passion of your resurrection;
allow their veins to pulse with blood again.

Let at least one tree remain green.
Let one bird sing.



Last Night (II)
by Faiz Ahmed Faiz
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Last night, your lost memory returned ...
as spring steals silently into barren gardens,
as cool breezes stir desert sands,
as an ailing man suddenly feels better, for no apparent reason ...

There are more English translations of poems by Faiz Ahmed Faiz later on this page.



Ghazal
by Mirza Ghalib
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Not the blossomings of songs nor the adornments of music:
I am the voice of my own heart breaking.

You toy with your long, dark curls
while I remain captive to my dark, pensive thoughts.

We congratulate ourselves that we two are different
but this weakness has burdened us both with inchoate grief.

Now you are here, and I find myself bowing—
as if sadness is a blessing, and longing a sacrament.

I am a fragment of sound rebounding;
you are the walls impounding my echoes.



The Mistake
by Mirza Ghalib
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

All your life, O Ghalib,
You kept repeating the same mistake:
Your face was *****
But you were obsessed with cleaning the mirror!



Inquiry
by Mirza Ghalib
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

The miracle of your absence
is that I found myself endlessly searching for you.



It's Only My Heart!
by Mirza Ghalib
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

It’s only my heart, not unfeeling stone,
so why be dismayed when it throbs with pain?
It was made to suffer ten thousand darts;
why let one more torment impede us?

There are more English translations of poems by Mirza Ghalib later on this page.



Couplets
by Jaun Elia
loose translations by Michael R. Burch

I am strange—so strange
that I self-destructed and don't regret it.
―Jaun Elia, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

The wound is deep—companions, friends—embrace me!
What, did you not even bother to stay?
―Jaun Elia, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

My nature is so strange
that today I felt relieved when you didn't arrive.
―Jaun Elia, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Night and day I awaited myself;
now you return me to myself.
―Jaun Elia, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Greeting me this cordially,
have you so easily erased my memory?
―Jaun Elia, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Your lips have provided thousands of answers;
so what is the point of complaining now?
―Jaun Elia, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Perhaps I haven't fallen in love with anyone,
but at least I convinced them!
―Jaun Elia, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

The city of mystics has become bizarre:
everyone is wary of majesty, have you heard?
―Jaun Elia, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Did you just say "Love is eternal"?
Is this the end of us?
―Jaun Elia, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

You are drawing very close to me!
Have you decided to leave?
―Jaun Elia, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch



Intimacy
by Rahat Indori
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

I held the Sun, Stars and Moon at a distance
till the time your hands touched mine.
Now I am not a feather to be easily detached:
instruct the hurricanes and tornados to observe their limits!



The Mad Moon
by Rahat Indori
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Stars have a habit of showing off,
but the mad moon sojourns in darkness.



Body Language
by Rahat Indori
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Your body’s figures are written in cursive!
How will I read you? Hand me the book!



Insatiable
by Rahat Indori
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

This mighty ocean, so deep and vast!
If it sates my thirst, how long can it last?



Honor
by Rahat Indori
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Achievements may fade but the name remains strong;
walls may buckle but the roof stays on.
On a pile of corpses a child stands alone
and declares that his family still lives on!



Dust in the Wind
by Rahat Indori
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

This is how I introduce myself to questioners:
Pick up a handful of dust, then blow ...



Dissembler
by Rahat Indori
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

In your eyes this, in your heart that, on your lips something else?
If this is how you are, impress someone else!



Rumor (M)ill
by Rahat Indori
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

I heard rumors my health was bad; still
it was prying people who made me ill.



The Vortex
by Rahat Indori
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

I am the river whose rapids form a vortex;
You were wise to avoid my banks.



Homebound
by Rahat Indori
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

If people fear what they meet at every turn,
why do they ever leave the house?



Becoming One
by Amir Khusrow
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

I have become you, as you have become me;
I am your body, you my Essence.
Now no one can ever say
that you are someone else,
or that I am anything less than your Presence!



I Am a Pagan
by Amir Khusrow
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

I am a pagan disciple of love: I need no creeds.
My every vein has become taut, like a tuned wire.
I do not need the Brahman's girdle.
Leave my bedside, ignorant physician!
The only cure for love is the sight of the patient's beloved:
there is no other medicine he needs!
If our boat lacks a pilot, let there be none:
we have god in our midst: we do not fear the sea!
The people say Khusrow worships idols:
True! True! But he does not need other people's approval;
he does not need the world's.

(My translation above was informed by a translation of Dr. Hadi Hasan.)



Amir Khusrow’s elegy for his mother
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Wherever you shook the dust from your feet
is my relic of paradise!



Paradise
by Amir Khusrow
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

If there is an earthly paradise,
It's here! It's here! It's here!



Mystery
by Munir Niazi
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

She was a mystery:
Her lips were parched ...
but her eyes were two unfathomable oceans.



I continued delaying ...
by Munir Niazi
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

I continued delaying ...
the words I should speak
the promises I should keep
the one I should dial
despite her cruel denial

I continued delaying ...
the shoulder I must offer
the hand I must proffer
the untraveled lanes
we may not see again

I continued delaying ...
long strolls through the seasons
for my own selfish reasons
the remembrances of lovers
to erase thoughts of others

I continued delaying ...
to save someone dear
from eternities unclear
to make her aware
of our reality here

I continued delaying ...



Couplets
by Mir Taqi Mir
loose translations by Michael R. Burch

Sharpen the barbs of every thorn, O lunatic desert!
Perhaps another hobbler, limping by on blistered feet, follows me!
―Mir Taqi Mir, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

My life is a bubble,
this world an illusion.
―Mir Taqi Mir, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Selflessness has gotten me nowhere:
I neglected myself far too long.
―Mir Taqi Mir, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

I know now that I know nothing,
and it only took me a lifetime to learn!
―Mir Taqi Mir, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Love's just beginning, so why do you whine?
Why not wait and watch how things unwind!
―Mir Taqi Mir, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch



Come!
by Gulzar
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Come, let us construct night
over the monumental edifice of silence.
Come, let us clothe ourselves in the winding sheets of darkness,
where we'll ignite our bodies' incandescent wax.
As the midnight dew dances its delicate ballet,
let us not disclose the slightest whispers of our breath!
Lost in night's mists,
let us lie immersed in love's fragrance,
absorbing our bodies' musky aromas!
Let us rise like rustling spirits ...



Old Habits Die Hard
by Gulzar
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

The habit of breathing
is an odd tradition.
Why struggle so to keep on living?
The body shudders,
the eyes veil,
yet the feet somehow keep moving.
Why this journey, this restless, relentless flowing?
For how many weeks, months, years, centuries
shall we struggle to keep on living, keep on living?
Habits are such strange things, such hard things to break!



Inconclusive
by Gulzar
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

A body lies on a white bed—
dead, abandoned,
a forsaken corpse they forgot to bury.
They concluded its death was not their concern.
I hope they return and recognize me,
then bury me so I can breathe.



Wasted
by Faiz Ahmed Faiz
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

You have noticed her forehead, her cheeks, her lips ...
In whose imagination I have lost everything.



Countless
by Faiz Ahmed Faiz
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

I recounted the world's countless griefs
by recounting your image countless times.



Do Not Ask
by Faiz Ahmed Faiz
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Do not ask, my love, for the love that we shared before:
You existed, I told myself, so existence shone.
For a moment the only light that I knew, alone,
was yours; worldly griefs remained dark, distant, afar.

Spring shone, as revealed in your face, but what did I know?
Beyond your bright eyes, what delights could the sad world hold?
Had I won you, cruel Fate would have ceded, no longer bold.
Yet all this was not to be, though I wished it so.

The world knows sorrows beyond love’s brief dreams betrayed,
and pleasures beyond all sweet, idle ideals of romance:
the dread dark spell of countless centuries and chance
is woven with silk and satin and gold brocade.

Bodies are sold everywhere for a pittance—it’s true!
Besmeared with dirt and bathed in bright oceans of blood,
Crawling from infested ovens, a gory cud.
My gaze returns to you: what else can I do?

Your beauty haunts me still, and will to the last.
But the world is burdened by sorrows beyond those of love,
By pleasures beyond romance.
So please do not demand a love that is over, and past.



O God!
by Qateel Shifai
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Torture my heart, O God!
If you so desire, leave me a madman, O God!

Have I asked for the moon and stars?
Enlighten my heart and give my eyes sight, O God!

We have all seen this disk called the sun,
Now give us a real dawn, O God!

Either relieve our pains here on this earth
Or make my heart granite, O God!



Hereafter
by Qateel Shifai
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Since we met and parted, how can we sleep hereafter?
Lost in each others' remembrance, must we not weep hereafter?

Deluges of our tears will keep us awake all night:
Our eyelashes strung with strands of pearls, hereafter!

Thoughts of our separation will sear our grieving hearts
Unless we immerse them in the cooling moonlight, hereafter!

If the storm also deceives us, crying Qateel!,
We will scuttle our boats near forsaken shores, hereafter.



Picnic
by Parveen Shakir
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

My friends laugh elsewhere on the beach
while I sit here, alone, counting the waves,
writing and rewriting your name in the sand ...



Confession
by Parveen Shakir
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Your image overwhelmed my vision.
As the long nights passed, I became obsessed with your visage.
Then came the moment when I quietly placed my lips to your picture ...



Rain
by Parveen Shakir
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Why shiver alone in the rain, maiden?
Embrace the one in whose warming love your body and mind would be drenched!
There are no rains higher than the rains of Love,
after which the bright rainbows of separation will glow with the mysteries of hues.



My Body's Moods
by Parveen Shakir
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

I long for the day when you'll be obsessed with me,
when, forgetting the world, you'll miss me with a passion
and stop complaining about my reticence!
Then I may forget all other transactions and liabilities
to realize my world in your arms,
letting my body's moods guide me.
In that moment beyond boundaries and limitations
as we defy the conventions of veil and turban,
let's try our luck and steal a taste of the forbidden fruit!



Moon
by Parveen Shakir
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

All of us passengers,
we share the same fate.
And yet I'm alone here on earth,
and she alone there in the sky!



Vanity
by Parveen Shakir
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

His world is so simple, so very different from mine.
So distinct—his dreams and desires.
He speaks rarely.
This morning he wrote: "I saw some lovely flowers and thought of you."
Ha! I know my aging face is no orchid ...
but how I wish I could believe whatever he says, however momentarily!



Come
by Ahmad Faraz
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Come, even with anguish, even to torture my heart;
Come, even if only to abandon me to torment again.

Come, if not for our past commerce,
Then to faithfully fulfill the ancient barbaric rituals.

Who else can recite the reasons for our separation?
Come, despite your reluctance, to continue the litanies, the ceremony.

Respect, even if only a little, the depth of my love for you;
Come, someday, to offer me consolation as well.

Too long you have deprived me of the pathos of longing;
Come again, my love, if only to make me weep.

Till now, my heart still suffers some slight expectation;
So come, ***** out even the last flickering torch of hope!



I Cannot Remember
by Ahmad Faraz
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

I once was a poet too (you gave life to my words), but now I cannot remember
Since I have forgotten you (my love!), my art too I cannot remember

Yesterday consulting my heart, I learned
that your hair, lips, mouth, I cannot remember

In the city of the intellect insanity is silence
But now your sweet, spontaneous voice, its fluidity, I cannot remember

Once I was unfamiliar with wrecking ***** and ruins
But now the cultivation of gardens, I cannot remember

Now everyone shops at the store selling arrows and quivers
But neglects his own body, the client he cannot remember

Since time has brought me to a desert of such arid forgetfulness
Even your name may perish; I cannot remember

In this narrow state of being, lacking a country,
even the abandonment of my fellow countrymen, I cannot remember



The Infidel
by Mirza Ghalib
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Ten thousand desires: each one worth dying for ...
So many fulfilled, and yet still I yearn for more!

Being in love, for me there was no difference between living and dying ...
and so I lived each dying breath watching you, my lovely Infidel, sighing                       afar.



Ghazal
by Mirza Ghalib
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Life becomes even more complicated
when a man can’t think like a man ...

What irrationality makes me so dependent on her
that I rush off an hour early, then get annoyed when she's "late"?

My lover is so striking! She demands to be seen.
The mirror reflects only her image, yet still dazzles and confounds my eyes.

Love’s stings have left me the deep scar of happiness
while she hovers above me, illuminated.

She promised not to torment me, but only after I was mortally wounded.
How easily she “repents,” my lovely slayer!



Ghazal
by Mirza Ghalib
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

It’s time for the world to hear Ghalib again!
May these words and their shadows like doors remain open.

Tonight the watery mirror of stars appears
while night-blooming flowers gather where beauty rests.

She who knows my desire is speaking,
or at least her lips have recently moved me.

Why is grief the fundamental element of night
when blindness falls as the distant stars rise?

Tell me, how can I be happy, vast oceans from home
when mail from my beloved lies here, so recently opened?



Abstinence?
by Mirza Ghalib
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Let me get drunk in the mosque,
Or show me the place where God abstains!



Step Carefully!
by Mirza Ghalib
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Step carefully Ghalib―this world is merciless!
Here people will "adore" you to win your respect ... or your downfall.



Bleedings
by Mirza Ghalib
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Love requires patience but lust is relentless;
what colors must my heart bleed before it expires?

There are more English translations of poems by Mirza Ghalib later on this page.



No Explanation! (I)
by Ahmad Faraz
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Please don't ask me how deeply it hurt!
Her sun shone so bright, even the shadows were burning!



No Explanation! (II)
by Ahmad Faraz
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Please don't ask me how it happened!
She didn't bind me, nor did I free myself.



Alone
by Ahmad Faraz
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Why are you sad that she goes on alone, Faraz?
After all, you said yourself that she was unique!



Separation
by Ahmad Faraz
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Faraz, if it were easy to be apart,
would Angels have to separate body from soul?



Time
by Ahmad Faraz
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

What if my face has more wrinkles than yours?
I am merely well-worn by Time!



Miraji Epigrams

I'm obsessed with this thought:
does God possess mercy?
―Miraji, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Come, see this dance, the immaculate dance of the devadasi!
―Miraji, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch



Excerpts from “Going, Going ...”
by Miraji
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Each unfolding vista,
each companion’s kindnesses,
every woman’s subtle sorceries,
everything that transiently lies within our power
quickly dissolves
and we are left with only a cupped flame, flickering ...
Should we call that “passion”?

The moon scrapes the horizon
and who can measure a star’s breadth?

The time allotted a life, if we calculate it,
is really only a fleeting breath ...



1.
Echoes of an ancient prophecy:
after my life has come and gone,
perhaps someone
hearing my voice drifting
on the breeze of some future spring
will chase after my songs
like dandelions.
—Miraji, translation by Michael R. Burch

2.
Echoes of an ancient prophecy:
after my life has come and gone,
perhaps someone
hearing my voice drifting
through some distant future spring
will pluck my songs
like dandelions.
—Miraji, translation by Michael R. Burch

3.
Echoes of an ancient prophecy:
when my life has come and gone,
and when I’m dead and done,
perhaps someone
hearing me sing
in a distant spring
will echo my songs
the whole world over.
—Miraji, translation by Michael R. Burch

If I understand things correctly, Miraji wrote the lines above after translating a verse by Sappho in which she said that her poems would be remembered in the future. I suspect both poets and both prophecies were correct!




Every Day and in Every Direction
by Nida Fazli
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Everywhere and in every direction we see innumerable people:
each man a victim of his own loneliness, reticence and silences.
From dawn to dusk men carry enormous burdens:
all preparing graves for their soon-to-be corpses.
Each day a man lives, the same day he dies.
Each new day requires the same old patience.
In every direction there are roads for him to roam,
but in every direction, men victimize men.
Every day a man dies many deaths only to resurrect from his ashes.
Each new day presents new challenges.
Life's destiny is not fixed, but a series of journeys:
thus, till his last breath, a man remains restless.



Couplets
by Nida Fazli
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

It was my fate to entangle and sink myself
because I am a boat and my ocean lies within.
―Nida Fazli, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

You were impossible to forget once you were gone:
hell, I remembered you most when I tried to forget you!
―Nida Fazli, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Don't squander these pearls:
such baubles may ornament sleepless nights!
―Nida Fazli, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

The world is like a deck of cards on a gambling table:
some of us are bound to loose while others cash in.
―Nida Fazli, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

There is a proper protocol for everything in this world:
when visiting gardens never force butterflies to vacate their flowers!
―Nida Fazli, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Since I lack the courage to commit suicide,
I have elected to bother people with my life a bit longer.
―Nida Fazli, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch



Changing Seasons
by Noshi Gillani
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Each changing season
reveals something
concealed by her fears:
an escape route from this island
illuminated by her tears.



Dust
by Bahadur Shah Zafar or Muztar Khairabadi
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Unable to light anyone's eye
or to comfort anyone's heart ...
I am nothing but a handful of dust.



Piercings
by Firaq Gorakhpuri
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

No one ever belonged to anyone else for a lifetime.
We cannot own another's soul.
The beauty we see and the love we feel are only illusions.
All my life I tried to save myself from the piercings of your eyes ...
But I failed and the daggers ripped right through me.



Salvation
Mohammad Ibrahim Zauq
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Anxious and fatigued, I consider the salvation of death ...
But if there is no peace in the grave,
where can I go to be saved?



Child of the Century
by Abdellatif Laâbi (a Moroccan poet)
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

I’m a child of this dreary century, a child who never grew up.
Doubts that ignited my tongue singed my wings.
I learned to walk, then I unlearned progress.
I grew weary of oases and camels infatuated with ruins.
My head inclined East only to occupy the middle of the road
as I awaited the insane caravans.



Nostalgia
by Abdulla Pashew (a Kurdish poet)
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

How I desire the heavens!
Each solitary star lights the way to a tryst.

How I desire the sky!
Standing alone, remote, the sky is as vast as any ocean.

How I desire love's heavenly scent!
When each enticing blossom releases its essence.



Oblivion
by Al-Saddiq Al-Raddi (an African poet who writes in Arabic)
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Discard your pen
before you start reading;
consider the ink,
how it encompasses bleeding.

Learn from the horizon
through eyes' narrowed slits
the limitations of vision
and hands' treacherous writs.

Do not blame me,
nor indeed anyone,
if you expire before
your reading is done.



In Medias Res
by Shaad Azimabadi
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

When I heard the story of my life recounted,
I caught only the middle of the tale.
I remain unaware of the beginning or end.



Debt Relief
by Piyush Mishra
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

We save Sundays for our loved ones ...
all other days we slave to repay debts.



Reoccurrence
by Amrita Bharati (a Hindi poet)
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

It was a woman's heart speaking,
that had been speaking for eons ...

It was a woman's heart silenced,
that had been silenced for centuries ...

And between them loomed a mountain
that a man or a rat gnawed at, even in times of amity ...
gnawing at the screaming voice,
at the silent tongue,
from the primeval day.



Don't Approach Me
by Arif Farhad
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Don't approach me here by the river of time
where I flop like a fish in a net!



Intoxicants
by Amrut Ghayal (a Gujarati poet)
translation by Kanu V. Prajapati and Michael R. Burch

O, my contrary mind!
You're such a fool, afraid to drink the fruit of the vine!
But show me anything universe-designed
that doesn't intoxicate, like wine.



I’m like a commodity being priced in the market-place:
every eye ogles me like a buyer’s.
—Majrooh Sultanpuri, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

If you insist, I’ll continue playing my songs,
forever piping the flute of my heart.
—Majrooh Sultanpuri, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

The moon has risen once again, yet you are not here.
My heart is a blazing pyre; what do I do?
—Majrooh Sultanpuri, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch



Drunk on Love
by Mirza Ghalib
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Drunk on love, I made her my God.
She quickly informed me that God belongs to no man!

Exiles
by Mirza Ghalib
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Often we have heard of Adam's banishment from Eden,
but with far greater humiliation, I abandon your garden.

To Whom Shall I Complain?
by Mirza Ghalib
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

To whom shall I complain when I am denied Good Fortune in acceptable measure?
Dementedly, I demanded Death, but was denied even that dubious pleasure!



Ghazal
by Mirza Ghalib
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

You should have stayed a little longer;
you left all alone, so why not linger?

We’ll meet again, you said, some day similar to this one,
as if such days can ever recur, not vanish!

You left our house as the moon abandons night's skies,
as the evening light abandons its earlier surmise.

You hated me: a wife abnormally distant, unknown;
you left me before your children were grown.

Only fools ask why old Ghalib still clings to breath
when his fate is to live desiring death.



How strange has life become:
Our evenings drag out, yet our years keep flashing by!
―original poet unknown, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch



Longing
by Allama Iqbal
loose translation by Michael R. Burch

Lord, I’ve grown tired of human assemblies!
I long to avoid conflict! My heart craves peace!
I desperately desire the silence of a small mountainside hut!



Life Advice
by Allama Iqbāl
loose translation by Michael R. Burch

This passive nature will not allow you to survive;
If you want to live, raise a storm!



Destiny
by Allama Iqbal
loose translation by Michael R. Burch

Isn't it futile to complain about God's will,
When you are your own destiny?

Keywords/Tags: Urdu, translation, love poetry, desire, passion, longing, romance, romantic, God, heaven, mrburdu
RIJUL CHAUHAN Jul 2014
I deserve to be happy,
But the world is too scrappy;

I deserve to be pampered,
But people always hammered;

I deserve to be loved,
But I always lost my beloveds;

I deserve a precious friendship,
But always got hardship;

I deserve more time,
As to my destiny I need to climb;

I deserve to be heard,
But soon as comes a warning word;

I deserve a good rest,
But I'm lingering like an unloved guest;

I deserve to be respected,
And that's what I always expected;

I deserve to have what I have,
As that's only what the world gave;

But even that's not in my luck,
I'm totally stuck;

I deserve to suffer,
As I had been a lover.
MBJ Pancras Sep 2015
An enigmatic smile she’s dressed with to chant mystery,
Poets and bards with their magical poesy tried the mystery,
Philosophers and thinkers broke their minds to unravel the secrecy,
Scientists and law makers built hypotheses and verdicts to read hers,
Painters and sculptors fatigued with their colours and clay,
Actors and directors enacted to unknot the thread of obscurity.
Odes and epics, long-written, attempted to sing Lisa’s Smile;
But reflections of their beloveds’ smile read in their verses,
Philosophies and thoughts expressed in huge volumes;
But less understood even the painter’s invention,
Theories and laws built around Science and Law;
But little is the outcome of their propositions sans the mystery,
Colours and clay played on mighty imaginative realms;
But Mona Lisa ne’er spoke of her mystery Smile.
Enactments on massive stages thrilled the collective audiences;
But Mona Lisa hid the mystery of her Smile.

I walked around the garden of poetry with fragrance of mystery,
I saw a poem in her distinctive beauty ruling my mind’s eye.
She smiled at my heart and in turn my heart smiled at her,
Her smile taught me a mystery and it took time to read it;
Yet there was a veil betwixt us, and I took my plume to write.
She took my heart unto her, and I romped in joy.
She’s been decked with melody and rhymes,
And the string of verses stretched beyond the horizon,
Where the mystery of Lisa’s Smile be found.
She took me with her beyond the horizon,
And I followed her with no utterance till our destination.
She laughed at me for my silence;
Yet she smiled unto me; but her smile looked unfathomable.

She smiled and smiled at me; yet she had no utterance for me;
She looked a little bit puzzling unto me, and I had no answer;
Yet her smile dwelled in me, and I invoked the Muse of Poetry.
“Thou art to be a silent lover, and her smile is the answer unto thee,
She’s the Mona Lisa; she can’t speak, but smile and smile.”
I lay on the soil of the kingdom of poetry, imbibing Lisa’s Smile,
I adorn her smile; I worship her smile; I revere her smile,
Let me not move away from the garden of poetry
Till Lisa’s Smile is translated unto me.

I waited and waited and I found the answer:
Lisa smiles and her smile is the love of silence.
My heart rests in silence that her love is felt within.
She uttered into me:”Speak not, but love with smile,
And that the mystery of my Smile and my Smile lasts.”

I know why Mona Lisa smiles.
She loves me with her silent Smile.
About Mona Lisa
Danny Beatty Dec 2013
her dress flies round her face and I have been born in this way
that my rages there die

it has been foretold by secret ladybugs whirring 
whom I lend to my beloved when I kiss her to soothe her 
that my rages there die

I have taken fingers from 'round the rising angel away
and her dress flies round her face and I have been borne in this way

donkey in the barn who dreams of gold,  O wind upon his beloved's ears
where ruby thighs of folded flesh and blood of wars comes Spring

odd and beautiful flowers are sprung

braids of mud embrace the skin of those who bray on the knee of their masters
where rivers of blood the Buddha swims pink fizz and whirling bone
such tears sublime is leadgun simple clowned and winged socratic
godself poison mimicry of war's shred and burr let the hearts and minds fall droplet to ground
let the war dead drink their own rain
oval is the yawn of the sun and burly shadows weep sockets
where new flowers shall grow odd and beautiful pollen 
shall spring

children dream of trapeze birds laughing grinning rising falling at last into the ground 
how they learn that splendor and love is  ironic ascension 

odd and beautiful flowers 
thunderous rivers of blood the Bluebird sings the echoes
let the Bluebird sing of death no less than the crack of birth from egg
are sprung
oddly flowers beautiful
I pick a ***, for her, of goblin flowers,
       where sunbeam ponies she so loved high whinny.
     may the fat bees strum and wild ponies make love,
and baby birds grow big in kind hands of powerful trees
     may the meadow where she lies
pray through all, who need, there be pollen of eyes that hear
 
pale flower godmath raiment lay me rise me
let the Bluebird sing of death
I am mighty upon the breast my true dreams press
but when she weeps at my inconsolable rages
an angel I wish would swim bursts into me naked 
here is a rain from my thoughts where she walks 
with her cello and my bow
Limber seas and mountain dew blood of many tenderly writhe
viscous streams the dove in heaven tells sadly in sleep bends down the  brow each new soldier child 

pale flower godmath raiment lay me rise me
let the Bluebird sing of death
let the sun crack where the dead man peels my flesh from my hands trying to say goodbye 
let the wardead lift up their mouths their oval grins let them drink their own rain

the plaster dreams of dreary kings 
fall not round my hips and the whine of whips are far beyond the cello of lovely nights
her ******* and her thighs have forsaken the numberless dismal rains
upon these fluffy newborn children we lay our heads like down upon the duck in the dusk
upon soft pillows Buddha madly drumming Jesus spinning rain
the ducklings race and the pond seeks no moon nor sun
where lovers' beloveds swim

oingo boingo holes in hands of Jesus and Buddha rivet the godsun of baby bird eyes 
it has been foretold by secret ladybugs whirring 
whom I lend to my beloved when I kiss her to soothe her 
that my rages there die

for upon the last day that I live I shall see the true sky
upon the opened eye of the pastel lids of a new bird born dying

let me raise my veins and tendons 
from my fingers shall grasp the mother birds a math of upswoop 
let there be terrible storms of beauty let the donkey in barn who dreams of gold find love
a daisy sun and upon this I try forevermore to ascend when I kiss my beloved
there shall be terrible storms of beauty 

I have taken fingers from 'round the rising angel away
and her dress flies round her face and I have been born in this way
but there upon the mountain where a once fiery stormy river raged in dawns restless pounding
tumorous thoughts of old men whose young bodies give birth to themselves
abortion of souls by songs of flags' lie they shimmering
upon the upraised red streaked fingers of hybrid monster theories
vultures and the rats grow fat with existentialist jacking
brays ***** across their yellowed rivers  

their tears are hidden to them the way simple men come with axes
when the automatic weapons run dry melting
each rising atomic thing shall escape alone and search for its brethren
each hyena must dance naked in rain the last day
on a highway no child's cry can cease

let the sun crack where the dead man peels my flesh from my hands
trying to say goodbye and let them lift their mouths up and drink their rain
my love's ******* and thighs have forsaken the numberless dismal rains
upon our fluffy newborn child we lay our heads down upon
soft pillows 

take the glowing wafting breads of autumn and winter shall lay down no more
let me drink from the socket of the tender pastel ****** of death
where the baby wren dreams long after it has fallen and risen again 

where battlefields leave wisdom come Spring in odd and beautiful flowers

meadows arise with great fury my flesh and mountains and valleys cease their separation
there are many daisies and bumble bee songs in the heart of each unborn child
each young girl touches when she watches the ponies and the daffodils sway

giant head of death ambitious reminiscence
a red mud land of untold photon castles that tremble in the night
where the owlet gathers its fat body like goblets of scotch in the night
rancorous blackberry swaying tress of my true love's ******* 
where fingers of god the costume of moon is dew

I have taken fingers from 'round the rising angel away
and her dress flies round her face and I have been born in this way
where Buddha slides the eggplant curve and night falls, deep, into the ground
where battlefields leave wisdom come Spring through odd and beautiful flowers

where oingo boingo turtle eyes beam from the holes of Jesus
lay me mighty at my own feet


and her dress flies round her face and I have been born in this way
rancorous blackberry swaying tress of my true love's ******* 
where fingers of god the costume of moon is dew where Buddha slides the eggplant curve
night falls deep into the ground
oddly flowers beautiful


I pick a ***, for her, of goblin flowers,
       where sunbeam ponies she so loved high whinny.
My garden yet is filled with merry powers.
I pick a ***, for her, of goblin flowers.
May Jesus hold her, run with her, play with her.
Last night I heard my puppy's eyes dying fly.
I pick a ***, for her, of goblin flowers,
       where sunbeam ponies she so loved high whinny.
 








.
MBJ Pancras Sep 2015
An enigmatic smile she’s dressed with to chant mystery,
Poets and bards with their magical poesy tried the mystery,
Philosophers and thinkers broke their minds to unravel the secrecy,
Scientists and law makers built hypotheses and verdicts to read hers,
Painters and sculptors fatigued with their colours and clay,
Actors and directors enacted to unknot the thread of obscurity.
Odes and epics, long-written, attempted to sing Lisa’s Smile;
But reflections of their beloveds’ smile read in their verses,
Philosophies and thoughts expressed in huge volumes;
But less understood even the painter’s invention,
Theories and laws built around Science and Law;
But little is the outcome of their propositions sans the mystery,
Colours and clay played on mighty imaginative realms;
But Mona Lisa ne’er spoke of her mystery Smile.
Enactments on massive stages thrilled the collective audiences;
But Mona Lisa hid the mystery of her Smile.

I walked around the garden of poetry with fragrance of mystery,
I saw a poem in her distinctive beauty ruling my mind’s eye.
She smiled at my heart and in turn my heart smiled at her,
Her smile taught me a mystery and it took time to read it;
Yet there was a veil betwixt us, and I took my plume to write.
She took my heart unto her, and I romped in joy.
She’s been decked with melody and rhymes,
And the string of verses stretched beyond the horizon,
Where the mystery of Lisa’s Smile be found.
She took me with her beyond the horizon,
And I followed her with no utterance till our destination.
She laughed at me for my silence;
Yet she smiled unto me; but her smile looked unfathomable.

She smiled and smiled at me; yet she had no utterance for me;
She looked a little bit puzzling unto me, and I had no answer;
Yet her smile dwelled in me, and I invoked the Muse of Poetry.
“Thou art to be a silent lover, and her smile is the answer unto thee,
She’s the Mona Lisa; she can’t speak, but smile and smile.”
I lay on the soil of the kingdom of poetry, imbibing Lisa’s Smile,
I adorn her smile; I worship her smile; I revere her smile,
Let me not move away from the garden of poetry
Till Lisa’s Smile is translated unto me.

I waited and waited and I found the answer:
Lisa smiles and her smile is the love of silence.
My heart rests in silence that her love is felt within.
She uttered into me:”Speak not, but love with smile,
And that the mystery of my Smile and my Smile lasts.”

I know why Mona Lisa smiles.
She loves me with her silent Smile.
Mona Lisa's Smile
pixels Nov 2012
no one knows pain
like
the ones
who
curse their beloveds
and
bleed their heart
dry


like
the ones
who
watch blood bubble up
from wounds
self-made

the ones
who
fill themselves up
just
to empty it all
in a bathroom stall

the ones
who
refuse their meals
and
live for the scale
because
numbers
don't leave

the crying poet
the bleeding cutter
the vomiting bulimic
the starving anorexic
the lost
the empty
the lonely
the unloved

the ones
who
love too much
and
not enough

no one knows pain
like
humans know pain
Smoke Scribe Feb 2015
crazy idea, silly notion,
then again,
come back, circle around,
why not, you ask yourself

now prior to posting hereon,
every word with extra care reviewed

sharing, checking in
with my beloveds,
here, those gone/disappeared

telling myself
telling anyone,
talking to you
letting you know
my grace, your grace,
one and the same,
my face, your face,
my child, my son

know you're
checking in,
checking out,
the comings,
the goings,
knowing full and well,
I see you,
my face, your face
everywhere and everyday

our conversation never ending,
look for me here,
at the intersection
of memory and what's up,
you see my messages,
responding in a thousand
different ways,
our dialogue unending,
formally organized
Face to Facebook,
your face, my Facebook
my child, my son
Perveiz Ali Jan 2016
SOULFUL IMAGINATION

On a journey of imagination,
The wind sought an explanation
Of that loving nature
We cannot measure.

Pray tell me now,
How good is your heart,
Filled with your beloveds' love ?

“Pacific, is my heart indeed!!”
Are the words I did utter.

Above the whispering reeds
Supporting the cloudy kites
It did impose further.....
What is love?
© Perveiz Ali
The cycle of time never stops,
That has never forgiven anyone,
Moves fast, slow and sometimes hops,
None can claim from it to be won,
The kings or beggar it behaves the same,
Justice, its essence and time its name.

O, the king lying with the queen,
Thou's given a figure to the love,
The lovers and beloveds are keen,
To visit the Taj as pilgrim of love.
Thousands of the people visit at a time,
To pay tribute a to building of ever prime,

Ah! The mosque is empty but I hear,
Silent prayer calls in surrounding of thine,
People are surrounding thee far and near,
They look happy but sad is the heart of mine,
O Yamuna! Beside thee one is seeing another age,
But time is the obstacle to show its visage.
Copy right @ muzzammailshah
NeroameeAlucard Oct 2014
From birth my beauty condemned me, a sacrificial lamb for slaughter.
Beauty was a curse in my land, for each and every daughter.

The monster in the castle, Dracula would be his name.
Always hungry for ****** blood, and it was his right to claim.

Stealing a moment before I go, I took a bottle of sweet red wine.
Hoping that a drunken stupor
would help me with my time.

For days he kept his food alive, who wish that they would die.
I sat at the moonlit pond, and for my fate I did cry.
I come from a family, who's wholly dreaded
Because to the church we are indebted

I took up my family's sacred weapon
A holy whip, the vampire killer, after leaving home into Transylvania I treaded

I wandered aimlessly into a forest
Seeing Draculas castle on a hill,
My blood boiled and my family's voices were urging me to go pursue the ****

I stopped in a lonely clearing and Sat down with the whip at my side,
I looked up and saw a beautiful maiden carrying a very fine wine

As I walked the path, to the castle on the hill.
I saw the man upon a rock, my heart did calm and still.

He offered me some food, I shared with him my wine.
I stopped to sup with him, dragging out the time.

If I could love, this man I would choose.
Curse the fates and Dracula, because of them I lose.

I listened to his voice, shy to reveal my name.
I just want to stay here forever, safe and far from pain.

I whisper my name, after hearing his " Nero".
My lungs all but froze, and my heart rate went to zero.

A wonderful name
for a wonderful man.
My love was growing, but not part of the plan.

The time grew late,
I soon would have to go.
But I knew I was his,
I could feel it in my soul.

His story he did tell, the aim to destroy the beast.
The very same one, who on my blood would feast.

"Aurora" so simple yet supple, it rolled of the tongue
I knew that I loved her, I knew she was my only and one,

The problem was I was facing an impossible task,
Destroying the count, I wasn't sure if I would last

I said to her if tonight is my last on this earth
That I should enjoy it, like incense and myrrh

I could not let him go, without showing him my love.
I would give him my heart, before he is taken up above.

I untied my lace,and steeped out of my dress.
Watching his beautiful eyes, as they fell upon my breast.

I gave him my strength, my body,heart and soul.
All for the only man I will ever physically know.

His hands so tender,
it made my heart cry.
Holding him tightly,praying he would not die.

I stared at this beautiful woman, now naked in the moonlight,
I was aroused already by her appearance, but this was exemplified by the darkest night,

I laid her down on the forest floor and kissed her lovely face
Somehow my armor was stripped off of me and scattered all over the place

His kiss melted my heart, his loverall than made me whole.
Broken til I meet him, the partner of my soul.

I took him in deep, tho I was sure it would not fit.
But it easily slipped inside, with his fingers working my ****.

Gasping and moaning, he truly filled me up.
My joy and my pleasure, overflowing my womanly cup.

Scratching at his,back, and arcing up my hips.
My breath mingling with his, as his name escapes my lips.

My God this woman was like heaven on earth
She was so Beautiful, like the goddess of the hearth

She was so sweet and supple like a well cut gem I knew I loved this woman, and I proved it there and then

I fell apart in his arms, my ****** blew my mind.
This was the purest love, that would stand the test of time.

His loved filled me up, the moon he did give to me.
A caged bird no longer, for my beloved had set me free.

Far to soon our time did end, the fates stepping in once more.
But for a moment in time, we were connected and we soared.

It almost brought tears to my eyes, that our time together couldn't last
We made love so passionately, our bodies had stains of grass,

I gave her my mother's Morningstar, in case I didn't return
I loved this woman so much, it was a trinket she deserved

Tears flowing from my eyes, the Morningstar clasped to my breast.
I whispered my goodbyes, with a tightening in my chest.

Fully dressed with whip in hand, oh what a sight to behold.
But the truth of the situation, had my blood now running cold.

I sat upon his rock, and watched as he walked away.
Knowing until he returned, right here I was going to stay.

I walked up the path and opened the gate to that cursed abode
I trusted my love with the Morningstar because it was my heart I trusted her to hold

I fought my way through his castle defeating everything, zombies, demons even death
Like my ancestors before me I would fight on until my last breath

Finally atop the ancient staircase stood the evil count himself,
I didn't even bother sneaking in because i grew tired of stealth,

In a battle that raged many hours as the night went on,
I choked and beheaded him with the vampire killer, and after that he disappeared into the great beyond,

Triumphant I returned to my beloved and I noticed it began to rain
It felt like my ancestors we're celebrating and their tears were of joy instead of pain

Rain washed down my cheeks, chasing the tears that fell.
My beloved topped the crest, and he was hurt, I could tell.

I ran up to greet him, my aid I lovingly did give.
Many thanks I gave to god, for letting my heart to live.

I took him to my home, and took care of his every need.
Cleaning up his angry wounds and cooking rabbit for me to feed.

Sleep overtook him, the stew I stew I left to simmer.
Holding his I hand I to slept, as the day light began to dimmer.

I walked home with my beloved and fell into a deep slumber
While I was unconscious my every need and wound she treated as if a spell she was under.

I began to stir as I smelled food, rabbit stew if I had to guess
Having known my beloved's passion, I knew it was made with love, the best

The moon rose and than it fell, I watched my lover sleep.
I saw when he began to stir and with joy I did weep.

I changed his bandages, and feed him with every kiss.
He ate the whole bowl and my heart was full of bliss.

My love would live,
my curse was now broken.
All because of a kind hello and names that were softly spoken.

My wish came to true and love I did find.
Our two souls now made one, forever intertwined.

I looked at my love and saw the passion in her eyes, I pulled her close to me, I missed her so last night,

I kissed her with all the love I could muster I stared into those deep blue eyes
I made sure that because I had come back she would never have to cry

I kissed my love, my own, he was truly my handsome hero.
I could no longer hold it in," I love you Nero."

My heart swimming in my eyes, I put my hand upon his cheek.
The love that I could see, made my bones melt and my knees weak.

Finally I could live,
my heart now had a home.
This man that is before me, I can claim as my very own.

I smiled in my beloveds face, I kissed her again and said I'll always love you
I don't know how fortunate I had to have been
But ill make sure to keep you happy, more so than you have ever been

Forever happy I shall be, with you by my side.
No longer shall I feel pain, no more will I have hide.

Shunned by the village, as the one who was chosen.
But now from the darkest pit, the sun has finally rosen.

To you my love, I give my heart.
Forever together,
never shall we part

I smiled wryly and began to gently rub her soft curvy body
I didn't think it strange at all she began acting so oddly

As we laid together in the sunrise I whispered "darling, shall we make love again?"

I raise my head to meet his eyes and knew he wanted me to.
" Are you sure my love, it won't end up hurting you."

To hurt him now, I just could never forgive.
I shall never cause him pain, as long as we both shall live.

But oh how I wanted him, my body began to ache.
I pray he was well enough, so me he would be able to take.

I said no matter how much pain I'm in I'll always make time for you
Just be gentle with me beloved, I'm healing now thanks to you

I kissed him tenderly, giving my promise and my vow.
"I shall love you tenderly, no pain will I cause u now."

I kissed my way down his neck and licked down his chest.
I leaned just a little bit so his hairs could tease my breast.

Lower I did go, my mouth hungry for more. As I reached my goal, my heart began to soar.

I placed myself between his legs, and licked my luscious lips.
I put my mouth to his shaft and my hands upon his hips.

I took him inside and his taste danced on my tongue.
If I could but sing my joy I would have sung.

As I bathed him with silken warmth, I started to ride his leg.
The feel of him inside my mouth had my core starting to beg.

I felt almost ecstatic
Making love to Aurora again
After battling my way through hell and high water
I couldn't wait to be with her again
My toes curled up in excitement my muscles still somewhat sore,
I stared into those deep blue eyes, my eyes begging for more

I teased him just a little bit, my tongue licking up and down.
I had to taste his lovely ***** so cute and bouncy round.

I slide up his body and slowly slipped him inside.
I softly rocked my hips as I began my loving ride.

I moaned deep in my throat and he filled deep within.
If this was being wanton than I bask in glorious sin.

I laid back and watch this beautiful woman transform into a goddess of desire
I could see why the night we first met was ablaze with this passionate fire,

My spine shot up and down I quivered with ecstasy
I held on to my love tightly
So I could love every inch of her body

Quivering with such delight, I placed his hands on my breast.
I left my hands ontop of his, as he fondled and caressed.

I gave him my body, I will even give him my life.
My only one true desire now, was to become his loving wife.

I looked deep into his eyes, and drowned within his soul.
My body felt on fire and my flame did dance and glow.

Pleasure overtook me, I began to scream his name.
My sheath tightened around him and my essence began to rain.

I felt her sweet love juices
Spill onto me with such extremity
I'd been traveling around for quite some time so I knew the perfect remedy
"Beloved lay down beside me I want to try something new"
I winked at her because she had no idea what I planned to do

I kissed my beloved down her body caressing from place to place
My eyes were almost drunken from her intoxicating face

I arrived at her woman cup so soft wet and warm
I began to drink deeply, taking in all of her love juices like coffee at dawn

Griping the sheets within my hand, I bite into my lips.
The shock and surprise had u rising up my hips.

I gave a womanly growl, as my hands than griped his hair.
I was so enchanted with the sight, I could do aught but stare.

Him between my legs, his tongue licking at my ****.
I knew that he could taste me, for I was extremely slick.

My essence flowed freely, and I was lost to the pleasure.
He treated me like I was his own special treasure.

I ate her like I was starving, Like her orifice contained the gift of life
I ****** and licked upon her
Desiring nothing but to make my beloved nothing less than my wife.

I drank my beloved's essence like I was mad with desire,
I got back up on my knees, and asked for what my beloved desired

My joy knew no bounds, as I could not believe my ears.
My wish was granted, I shed some happy tears.

I rose up to meet him, now we were eye to eye. I kissed him so hard and let out a contented sigh.

"Yes my love I would not want any other, my heart is in ur hands.
Were you go I go anywhere throughout the lands."

I wraped my arms around him and kissed him with all my heart.
He is my everything, right from the very start.

I kissed her beautiful lips and I slid myself back inside her again
The bed creaked and groaned as both myself and my wife moaned and I released deep inside my beloved again

I kissed my wife's rosy cheeks and kissed her lovely lips
"I love you so much aurora" her name felt soft like a willow in the wisp

I awoke to a sound of tapping, the teacher purple in the face.
This felt like a weird time and an even stranger place.

Ignoring the words, I turned my head to look and see.
And there was my dream man staring straight back at me.

I smiled a knowing smile, for I think he knew me to.
We both lived in the past and our love was not through.
Its So fun Working With Natasha M L, Thanks for being aweosme luv!
Mik Josefchuk Jun 2014
Don't you know the feeling?
Hating what makes you feel alive?
Don't you love the adrenaline?
It should have killed you, but you survived.
How many years have gone by since that day?
Has the thought ever crossed your mind?
Through all of my taunting and singing and loving and needing,
I've always wanted to die.

I make exchanges with the devils,
So God will forget my sins,
The list will keep on growing,
But I refuse to let Satan win.
I still have hope in this life,
But all the same I'm numb,
You don't deserve to see this,
The monster I've become.

I'm not afraid of dying,
Just of losing you,
A life without you is meaningless,
There's nothing I can do,
So I will hold your hand tightly,
Guide you into the light,
Because even in the darkness,
Your soul is burning bright.
Three notes to three very important people in my life.
The first: A wake up call.
The second: An apology.
The third: A recognition.
Phosphorimental Jan 2015
There are pearls in you
So I’ll slip without splash
Into the pools between your lashes
For the eyes have depths
Only lovers can dive.
http://www.phosphorimental.com/love-poems/on-beloveds-25-words-away-from-truth/
Nirvana Mar 2016
yeah I'm back for the revenge
to take my beloveds' avenge
here I'm waiting for the three
out of casino to set their soul free

I followed the man who was stout
I'm gonna **** him, no doubt
he hurt my beloveds'  wrist
for his (own) I'm gonna slit

the drunk ******* was asleep
I slit (open) his wrist **** deep
he woke up with screams and cry
I watch the rascal- bleed to die

it was the time for the strongest man
who held me by my shoulder then
he was tough and could give a fight
so I tied him with rope, held him tight

I chopped off his shoulder
for his act of being bolder
I bid him last goodbye
and remembered you as I left him to die

my third victim had him isolated
to my surprise he sleeps naked!
I decided to stab him all over
no ones gonna listen as no one lives closer!

but my revenge is incomplete
until I punish the real culprit
the one who was following her
I'm gonna **** that scoundrel

luring the guards to back door
I found him asleep with irritating snore
somehow the guards find out
and give out a loud shout

to which his father came pleading me
begging my pardon and to have mercy
I stab the knife in culprit's heart and eye
escaping the scene, left his father to see him die

the guards didn't dare to cross my way
I wished you A Very Happy Birth Day
standing beside your grave
to be with you again I crave

the police came again to arrest me
but this time they only found my body
the bird was gone, my soul was free
I lived with my beloved ever after happily!
P.S.- its the concluding part of the tale. I request you to read 'The Revenant (short tale) for a better idea and experience.
thank you.
K Balachandran Mar 2012
A sudden flash,
lightning's cuneiform write,
on  the plack of pitch dark sky;
like a truth derived from lives

Sudden  insights,
in human nature strike unawares,
if you look around,
some times even casual look reveals.

Likes and dislikes drive human lives,
and civilizations thrives or bite dust,
on their merit,
they are like leaves sprouting on a plant
an act, result of the land it stands and nutrients
it receives,
what complex laws work behind it!
how would you capture the essence of this?
--meaning is elusive even if you peel
the onion, for long,
human nature defies all descernable patterns.

Pharova Khufu of Egypt,
wallowing in riches, all his life
(in the stories of past)
was in love with
his two boats, more than any other thing,
(one made of acecea and other from cider)
king, aimed  his longing's sharp point
at this two wooden objects,
(a guy who had no problem in focusing
bless him, he deserves credit for that one decisiveness)

And when he died,
they thought these boats were the things
he would miss more than his wives,
what else could be possible?
they carefully laid to rest with him,  these two beloveds-
Khufu with two lovely boats; his love objects,
his wish was honored
*
Imagine a man of immense wealth
which eventually reduced to  some wood,
the size of two boats,
(the symbol of futility
human life represents,)
trveling the great beyond,
with his legs, one each
on a boat.

                
Ariel Baptista Jun 2014
I cling to him,
Mascara stains his shirt
Like ink blotches on a left wrist.
Oh, how deeply, deeply
Sweetly –
Completely I feel this pain
Burrowed in the most hidden corner of my soul
Patched like cancer on the walls of my lungs
And Oh, how deeply, deeply
Sweetly –
Complete and utterly
Did we weep and wail through the darkness of that night
Tears cried by dull-ember fireside
This hurts more than we ever thought it could
Crocodile eyes ooze wet and hot
Figures entangle themselves in desperation
Words are few yet heart-wrenching
The strongest among us are bulldozed into flat implacability
Sorrow inhabits the cracks in my soul
Like chalk smeared across concrete.
Weep dear children,
Not ready to grow up
Weep dear friends,
For the depth of your love
Weep dear graduates
When morning comes you’ll have to leave
Weep for this country, that stained you and changed you
Weep for the institution, that burned you and bettered you
Weep for the people, who loved and supported you
Weep for your childhood, that carried you from birth to here
Weep, sweet alumni for all that you’re losing
For all the departure
For all the uncertainty
For all the promises that will be broken
And friendships that will not be kept up
Weep over the map
And curse the dividing waters
Weep my beloveds,
Deny yourselves no tears
Weep deeply
Weep deeply
Weep sweetly
Weep completely
Weep utterly and totally and whole-heartedly
Weep because this matters more than anything ever has
Weep because this has been the most beautiful and devine gift
Weep because you’ve been pierced to the core,
Debilitated by the most far-reaching love imaginable
And weep because
The world is expansive,
The oceans are deep and the lands are wide
The people are numerous and the cultures are diverse
The opportunities are endless
The combinations are infinite
Your life is long
And your future is full of immense possibility
But you will never have this again,
So weep.
Ellis Brown Nov 2013
I am at a birthday party. It must be my party because I am blowing out candles. I am huffing and puffing, but the flames will not go out. The candles multiply. Their flames and shadows cover the cake, then the table, then the room. The fire refuses to extinguish. The candles grow longer and taller, and they peer down at me as though I am some kind of an insect. Their fiery wigs ignite all the furniture in the room, and I am surrounded.

Tonight, I am a flower. I have a lion’s mane constructed of pink petals. I whisper and whistle in the wind; the sky is endless, as is my spirit. I lie alone in a field of only me. The rest is air, and for the first time in my small life, I can breathe without worrying about breathing on somebody. The grass tickles my leafy feet. I am the prettiest flower in the meadow. I am the only one.

I am in a room filled with poisonous snakes. They do not know of my intrusion. As long as I remain still, they will not notice me. The silent serpents decorate my feet with leftover scales as they slither over me. I stop myself from trembling, for my life is on the line. I stare straight ahead, ignoring the warm yet shiver-inducing string of life that slinks up my back. There is a candle in the room. One of the snakes scoots a little too close, and the candle tips. I am frozen to a whole new degree. The flame begins to spread, and the snakes become uneasy. There is no escape. There is no way out. I still cannot move, for the snakes will attack me. I cannot not move, however, for the fire will swallow me whole. I must choose which I would rather be consumed by. The snakes are everywhere. The fire is everywhere.

I am at the North Pole. I assume this because though I cannot see Santa Claus, I see ice everywhere I look. Thick walls of ice mirror me with care, as though my reflection is the most important thing to them. They let their cool acceptance gently settle over me like a blanket. I sigh, and my breath freezes in midair; it falls to the ground, and suddenly I am a co-creator of the beauty I see. I turn in awe, and out of the corner of my eye I think I see a lit match in another delicate reflection. I whirl around, but there is no flame to be seen. I wonder what I saw.

I am back in the field in my flowery form. I look up at the stars that are each trying to shine brighter than their companions; the light of each inspires another. They seem to go on forever. Tonight seems different; I feel lonely. Though I am still the prettiest flower, I feel for the first time that it is unfair; I am also the ugliest. Suddenly a roar hits my ears, but it is no sound from my lion’s-maned self. I turn and see the grass that once covered the meadow being ****** up into a vacuum of fire. The fire is a true wildfire; it is a rebellious child. It stretches to the sky and across the horizon, but still it is not satisfied. I witness it live while it dies, burning bright, but not realizing that it is burning itself. It comes towards me. I cannot move—I am a flower.

I am in a white room that goes on forever. The ceiling is not high, but the walls never cease. In the room are the people I love. They stand in a line that matches the infinity wall, and they hold hands. They smile at me with their mouths, but their eyes do not change. This makes me uneasy. Without their smiling,
dedicated eyes, they seem to be different people. I decide to leave it be and go to hug everyone. Suddenly I am crying. It feels like a goodbye.

I am fire. I am not in a fire, nor am I on fire, but I am fire. The fire has trapped me; it has taken me under its sizzling wing, and I fear my soul is melting. The fire is in me, and I am being consumed from the inside, and I cannot escape, for when I drink water it only boils. I see my beloveds again. This time no part of them smiles; they run in fear before I can ask them for help. I run after them, begging them with cries, fiery cries that always sound angry even though I am not. I run…I am running too fast, too fast, and I catch up with my family, but I cannot stop, and before I know it I have burned them to a crisp, but I did not mean to; I would never mean to, but suddenly they are gone. I try to stop running; I try to trip myself, skid, anything to protect my loved ones, but I am no longer in control. I am no longer the fire; the fire has become me. It takes my body and my memories without my permission and uses them against me, and I cannot stop it. I cannot stop myself. I burn and melt and fry my cherished people, and I cannot help but cry. I have consumed myself. I am fire. Fire is me.
Everyone is gone.
I am
Sanja Trifunovic Jan 2010
Beloveds, now we know that we know nothing
Now that our bright and shining star can slip away from our fingertips like a puff of summer wind

Without notice, our dear love can escape our doting embrace
Sing our songs among the stars and and walk our dances across the face of the moon

In the instant we learn that Michael is gone we know nothing
No clocks can tell our time and no oceans can rush our tides
With the abrupt absence of our treasure

Though we our many, each of us is achingly alone
Piercingly alone
Only when we confess our confusion can we remember that he was a gift to us and we did have him

He came to us from the Creator, trailing creativity in abundance
Despite the anguish of life he was sheathed in mother love and family love and survived and did more than that

He thrived with passion and compassion, humor and style
We had him
Whether we knew who he was or did not know, he was ours and we were his
We had him

Beautiful, delighting our eyes
He raked his hat slant over his brow and took a pose on his toes for all of us and we laughed and stomped our feet for him

We were enchanted with his passion because he held nothing
He gave us all he had been given

Today in Tokyo, beneath the Eiffel Tower, in Ghana's Blackstar Square, in Johannesburg, in Pittsburgh, in Birmingham, Alabama and Birmingham England, we are missing Michael Jackson

But we do know that we had him
And we are the world.
mannley collins Jul 2014
lurking in every place that others, who also  pose as poets,
lurk in--disguised as human beings--rather ineffectively.
Not even as good at deception as terrorists do
but they do manage easily to deceive themselves..
Writing in simplistic rhymes,their inexperienced and shallow
observations, that are made with the blindfold of truth over their eyes.
Pretententious juvenile and middle aged posturers,
that write excretable  prose about their shallow juvenile longings,
to possess another completely,and always call it " love poetry".
Begging for a mummy or daddy figure to "love" them,
and thereby give their miserable existences value
and validation,energy-***** one and all .
Crying out in immature and verbally comatose
stanzas, insisting that they are not to blame,
not me guv!--never met him before!,
can I hand you another nail?..
Still afraid of the "roaming soldiers" in our midst,
the paramilitaries of the Oligarchies that rule everywhere.
On their knees beseeching the one they met momentarily,
and who has walked away from them,
heaving with laughter at their chauvinism and sexism
and lack of integrity and lack of truthfulness.
Begging their various "gods" and "goddesses"to return to their grasping and possessive conditional love the *** object that rfejects them..
"Poets"(very few of them here and I am not a "poet") expose these thieves of others integrity and truthfulness,to the ridicule they deserve,
for trying to twist the shining shimmering slender thread
of unconditional love into a for life shackle
of the conditional attachment that they call love .
Whether they be Heterosexual or Homosexual/Lesbian
or Bisexual is if no account to these testosterone  fuelled
inhabitants of the ****** free zone.
"Be all mine" they cry out piteously.
"You cant leave me like this" they cry unceasingly
as if some fictional "god"or "goddess" will fasten
the shackle around the "beloveds" ankle.
What a lot of horse **** to dip your quill into.
Where Shelter Jan 2015
bare it straight...

the knight-fool referenced here,
me, scrabbled, scrambled writer,
moat-surround builder,
petard hole-blower in walls of captivity.
letting those inside out,
letting those outside in...

all the beloveds from
ailments hurtful,
in and ex ternality
fearful of eternality

guise of knight errant,
salve and solve,
two pocket protectors,
needy, downtrodden, love-hurting,
slip inside and hide till ready
to come out on acceptable terms

entrapped, locked down and in,
show me the walls for to break,
make the solitary unobligatory
hands holding you will lead us,
all writ on clean new chance foolscap
open sourced coded for sharing

knock knock knock
come calling,
my calling...
to come...
I love cheap money

I love giving it away

cheap money is
that which you give
to the the brave ones....

not much of a poem

cheap
because it is the least expensive
way to justify your own existence
and better someone else's

someday I will write
actually share,
the poem long dusted on the bottom
of the pile entitled,

**Just Money**

a long tale of how I learned
the value of monetizing
happiness

but let us ask where shelter,
shelter is in the human embrace,
like I said,
not much of a poem,
more a good look
in the mirror

and the shelter of liking
what you see
Emma Pratt Feb 2021
this thing we
choose
to call beautiful

he

takes his time and
stirs up still things
hidden inside
     to
exhaust the mind

then

settles down and
infests, but

come o beloveds of
darkness and decay

for day
    is near
inspired by the fragments of Sappho
Bus Poet Stop May 2015
come to me,
my beloveds
with long nails
and squinting eyes,
spare neither
claw or hook,
delve and devolve,
critique and solve
the words of this prophet
scribbled on plastic
bus seats

give me
my due,
my comeuppance,
my downfalls

will me
to be better
or worse
if that be betterment

so eagerly
will embrace,
grasp, insert
your benailing fingers,
soften, grasp,
repoint thy claws
taking thy earnest joy
at pain inflicted
as my own
as long as you dare
just say something!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A bus poem
in honor of my invitation  
my digital birthing

April 8th, 2015
Left Foot Poet Apr 2015
nearing midpoint
and looking
twice backwards   -  once ahead

leaning ever so - modestly bent forward
in keeping with a
past and future futile balanced,
sad bent with weight of passé tragedy,
to leaning forward with speaking eagerness
a future anticipated,
dearly beloveds,
trundle to and from thee
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
burdened and yet unbundled,
eyes in the head back and front
who is pushing this carriage?

old love stories well recalled,
new love poems unwritten
I roll along, slow trundle
the human condition -
love failures only make you more
needy wanting
to run
faster away and towards
love poems
Ceyhun Mahi Nov 2016
While walking in the city throughout days,
I'm only daydreaming about tonight,
And thinking about that luminous face
Who I so eagerly want to speak and write
When the bright sunlight gets concealed,
When the night comes out the day,
When city lights become revealed
And when thoughts that she's distant go away.
After living my life in the daytime,
My beloveds face is finally seen!
In the late hours of the dim nighttime,
On my gleaming and lovely computer screen.
I know that it is a digital love,
But surely, it is a beautiful love.
Justus McMahon Jan 2016
All who strive and struggle
All who love too deeply
The souls whose heart mourns for others
The ones who feel the pain of empathic compassion

Empty your selves atop of me
Give unto me your hate
Tear the sorrow from your core
and be free

For I will consume
I will fester and writhe
For hate I loathe
and into the abyss I dive

Into the cryo-depth of darkness
Through the teeth of winter
Swallowed by war and hatred
For in the icy maw, hope thrives

Frozen inside his core
Fenrir engulfs the sun
Frigid I wait, rigid I stand
Fires of hate, Bless my son

And with the force of a thousand flames
The cries of a million strong
The spear that ended kingdoms come
****** the point of my demise

Belly splitting the beast howls
Birthed I am with the blood of passion
The light is once again released
Forged from the ice and compassion

Find joy my beloveds
Find happiness
Breathe your love onto me
For I am defeated

Valhalla, hear me now!
I am afraid to fall into the abyss
Guide me to the rainbow bridge
and I will lay my body beside the gate
Clarissa Clark Dec 2010
Pondering rain,
drops of new,
and pats of old.
Contented sighs exude from my heart
as light scatters in colors
through the broken clouds,
the whole world
resides in that one rainbow...

The earth in its entirety
sinks into the darkness,
sweet hues
fade into a deep freckled purple;
asleep is the innocent;
wide awake
is the curious explorers
in love.

A nighttime symphony
awards an applaud
from the beats of the racing hearts;
alive and united.
A moment fully experienced,
God's grace
flows in the form of wind,
the warming breeze
lightly caresses
the skins of bare,
quietly blessing His children
to eternity,
Forever in awe with one another.

The sun boldly makes its arrival,
slowly spitting fire
into the beloveds below.
Somehow,
joy finds its way,
intertwined
within the arising glowing daytime -
even in the crashing water;
a mesh of beauty
is always present.

In the arms
of security,
love,
warmth,
and bliss,
one finds earthly manifestations
of His dream;
one embraces the energy
of His life.

Contented sighs
exude from my heart
with truth and beauty.
For my surroundings
sit modestly within me...
The universe holds energy infinitely;
the soul holds the universe in its entirety:
eternal and infinite is both as a pair
Like day and night,
like sunshine and rainfall,
like you and I.
Alice Lovey Jul 2018
Stricken with, like fate.
Idolizing. Idealizing.
What makes it so?
Curiosity to obsession.

Obsession to love?

What is love?

Sought after, like gold.
Idolizing me.
Yet none to succeed but for a fleeting moment.
I envy those with their beloveds.

Even those whom have suffered loss, but still love.

Emptiness.
Craving the “good” feelings.
Like fantasies. Wanting someone who isn’t real.
Never to give wounds time to heal.

To invalidate, or embrace?
If I don’t know what is real
And if I don’t know who I am,
Do I follow my heart?
Or is naivety my wander?

What I seek is never mine to keep.
All stories are read, not written.
Not written by me.
Spur of the moment feelings of brokenness.
Butch Decatoria Jan 2017
The last romantic...

Briefly departs his Shakespeare

Pages serenading sublimity

Juxtaposing the beauty of the stars

To the abyssal depth in lover's eyes

Lost in sonnet sunset

And the pentameter of lonesome sighs...

His heart must surely be a fish

Lovelorn wanting such oceans of wish.

To feel alive from being torn

Into madness A tumultuous storm....

The last romantic far from paths

And roads leading home,

Far from metropole and reality

In solitude a garden gnome...

Deformed from lack of society's

Influential propriety

Of hurry get married, of monogamy,

Grooms bride for every norm...but no.

Oh how aloof and naively blind

Dismissing the tutors' lessons in mundane life

The logic of lovelife like reasoning

These days of mail order brides,

Milfs and Latin ***** seasonings,

Are now for bid to buy (at auction price)

How is this decency or poetic

The Geometry of a fit sound mind?

(High on cloud nine, in line for a hookers time?)

Oh dear King Lear, what's happened here?

Sign of our times slow demise

Yet no one questions such schisms

Or ask why?

The illness of the romantic was once floral

It sickens with sweetness and aww

A dreamers pox deluded flight

Psychedelic was the high

(just stop all that effing rhyme time)



Perhaps it's self inflicted

Conditioned poetic days

To view all the world with love

Fauning eyes awake

Maybe in his idolatry of medieval adultery

There is a sort of peace

Of mind, of truth

Maybe accidentally it is found

Far from the madness of the heartless,

Mindless Crowds

Murdering muse and moody blues

By the numbers we color refuse and defuse

These digital days that pass in fog

Diminished worth

From fears' poison smog,

An unlived unloved life askew

Dead to chances made aloud

Tho' The perfect time is now...


Perhaps the last romantic chooses to go without

Shedding a painful tear

Detours introverted meekly feels

Avoiding any meaningful kiss

With every passion

petite mort...             a tiny death my dears

Some cannot handle such tragedy

Star crossed youth I hear are

                     All fools for love

And Still will / surely must

Die hard

Whether from wounds of doubts

Drowning in Lies of ties that bind...

Yet true love with imperfect hearts

Revere

Our Immortal beloveds

And the last romantic

Near or far away from here

Romancing whispers

Oh the lovely

Untouched years

                    Heavy as a hollow bone

Broken in perpetual wish,

His alone

A soul yet to atone a life of fear

Bewitched by drama's

*Magic Shakespeare.
Madeline Oct 2012
quite frankly you've put me to shame -
and not for the reasons you think.

my beloveds:
it's your hatred.

i sat in on one of your congregations.
i heard the words you put in my mouth and i smiled, sadly,
at your empty trying.
i heard about that man who performed what you call miracles,
and i heard the words you put in his mouth and i laughed, genuinely,
at how much store you put in a little age-old gossip.

but then i heard the whisperings:
and i have to ask you.

all this behaving as if you know me,
and dancing around with me in your hearts,
and you think i care,

you think i care about those two women
who love each other?
those two men with their beautiful children?
those millions of others?
you think i didn't make them that way -
special,
free,
and just the same as you?

you think you earn my favor,
accusing and oppressing your brothers, your sisters?
you think i smile on your closed minds?

you bring shame on yourselves.
my ad-libbed wrath, i can laugh at that,
and that man from galilee,
i can smile at your childish clinging.

but i didn't make you with hatred.
i didn't make you to see differences as anything
but a celebration.

if someone had told me this is what would take shape,
in my name,
i would have pointed at you hateful few,
and i would have said,

god forbid
(and i do)
that you spread this poison.
rlp Mar 2014
Blackness envelops the hearts of the willing
and she stumbles along life like a broken-winged bird.
He gulps breath in with every beat of her heart -
that which sputters to a halting finale.

Without a fantasy or care in the head,
are we better off dead?

Silence amazes the heart of the broken
and the quiet is the final jab in
to the remaining hopeless heartbeat.
He shudders under the pressure of her sins.

Without a fantasy or love in our head,
are we better off dead?

Shovels bury things deeper than the dearly beloveds.
and the six feet down is multiplied.
His breaths have to dig deeper,
to find the beat they exist by.

Down into the grave they both go.

Without a fantasy or her in his head,
he knows he is better off dead.
Rachel W Dec 2015
If there was a song in this world so melodious
So sweet
So beautiful

That it was the anthem of lovers
Of sweethearts
Of beloveds

And I sang it to you so tenderly
So vibrantly
So lovingly

Would you love me back so truly
So unconditionally
So faithfully

Just as I do to you, my love, so wonderful
So fantastical
So undeniable

And would you so graciously
So honestly
So astonishingly

Accept me into your arms so humbly
So loyally
So admirably

As you are the only one so dear
So adored
So cherished

And as I would lay in your arms of warmth
Of gentleness
Of love

I would sing that song of romance
Of care
Of devotion

Because our love would be so boundless
So limitless
So Marvelous

So, would you care for a song my love?
Bhaskar Dhakal Dec 2014
Free your mind, relax your soul
Relish the present, forget the bygone
Open up; identify the colors in the space
Be hopeful and Make the most out of your existence
Let the sun shine on you; take a bath in light
Feel the energy; kick the impossibilities out of sight
Chase a butterfly and listen to the birds chirping,
How wonderful is their tone and the singing.
Let yourself loose with the flowing rill
Touch the serenity of a sea; tell me how do you feel?
Watch the flowers blossom and lose yourself on the fragrance
Set your foot out, embrace the rain and dance
Let the wind tickle you and provide you the bliss
Notice the glow on your beloveds’ face when you give them a kiss
Don’t curse the dark, it bestows you the moon and the star
Light the candles instead, push your terrors far
Enjoy the life as if there is no tomorrow
Be positive and you will discover no sorrow
Unearth the splendors, they are all around you
You smile at the world and the world will smile at you
www.bhaskardhakal.blogspot.com
The pictures of us
are usually serious and plain
we usually don't have anywhere to go, just home
it's hard to find you, we're distant
but we don't write down our stories like it is and we are
as a child I do weird things over and over
but you laugh, and I hear it because you're the only one ever here
it's so sad they don't think you're alive
because we always do creative things together
and you look at my head
and pause
and just listen
and you choose not to judge me
even though you can
(or I'd hate you)
because you're right here
on the musical steps between us
piano keys, back and forth
they say we're all far, you there and me here, just as the world
the world seems so far- so far- so far from your door
but in the dark room of the world where no one can withstand the darkness yet it's all around
you can be connected with
they say it's not possible
closing is a verb not done, they're closed not opening
the creation of the reality believed
shut shut shut
But they cannot ******
They've made god their slave, they've taped his arms around his torso with concrete
Don't breathe
They've taken away any words he can say because they can't hear
But they haven't taped his eyes because they didn't think he had any
So he blinks
And he walks up and down, the stairs between us
'Distant' is his High school label
He breathes with his nose
And the 'distance' doesn't seperate him from the sky
water is the world, a huge ocean
where what you feel you know
you're always feeling, heavy water the world
your right brain is dominate
the world goes through you
then you leave the world in no possibility, stopped
you shut, shut, not productive
you're missing the sky
the sky is the most open thing
something in there is the freest
no one can shut the sky
anything above
like stars, sun, weather, heaven, god
and anything above can connect to heat
only flying things swim in the sky, feeling it
weird narnian creatures
normal people
fly with their hands
god touches open things
god has made stories with thousands of shut things
god teaches the black boxes on an island since he likes big spaces
god believes in impossibility, not shutting
because boundaries don't have to be permenant
but the stronger they are, they will never float up to the sky
so god lives in no broken glass
he blinks in the dark water of impossibility where no belief kills and kills any belief
we think that the way it is on earth is everywhere and up
but that is shut with a thousand locks
and heaven is in a garden.
who shuts that gate knowing it's boundaries?
you shut a different garden, with a thousand walls
self-proclaimed mayor of a city
and yourself the same way
Because of christian language that did ******
they stole millions of beloveds from god, and threw them back stone
all statues in a garden
unable
with a can or two
an angel on every stair
a personal word waiting in an exotic flower
on the dismembered grave
on the bird in a cage
on the artist in a box
motion quiet in the sacredness of a terrific soul alone
Rain making them colder than on redder skin, bluer stone without dark orange organs
Cold by the flowers
Pianos, better organs than any around, are stepped on like garden stone steps
Between the ground and any stairs up
steps just for unbuttoned sleeves over them
no wire around a wrist
steps for god, carefully quietly
steps for the one brother in the statues
the connection
the one brother of the three that uses his impossible hands to see
Copyright Chelsea Palmer July 17, 2013
Jeffrey Jul 2017
My beloveds,

Please stop seeking me out
in the eyes of every stranger whose form you find appealing
In every evening’s masquerade, serenaded by dime store boom boom playing through bar room speakers

Release the idea that I’m somehow hiding inside of the lover to whom you’ve chained yourself, just waiting for you to release me from a hidden tower

I’m not.

It breaks my heart to watch your aimless searching, pressing up against writhing bodies, then torturing yourself with the notion that you somehow had the one that got away

You didn’t.

Forgive yourself the notion that your sole purpose in this lifetime is to seek someone with whom to share it as it only leaves you searching in places that I simply can not be found.

I am not the destination, I am the journey.  

I am not the answer, I am the question.

I will not find you the moment that you stop looking for me.  
I will find you the moment that you find yourself,
Somewhere along the path that leads you to who you might become 
should you begin to walk it

You seem to think that somehow we are playing hide and go seek, 
and that I am right behind the chair, eternally eluding you

But the truth is I am somewhere down the path between where you started and your potential, while you’ve not even left the living room

You did not come here seeking love.  
You are love and you came here seeking answers. 
Please start asking the questions. 
Who are you?  
What do you want?  
Why are you here? 
Why did you come?
What might you become should you decide to become it?

You, the all powerful, that came to human form, born into the maelstrom to learn, to teach, to be, 
and yes, even to love, 
though you knew that you would suffer, 
You have forgotten who you are and why you came

Brave one, made of light,
you don’t need to look any further to find me.  
You are me and I am you. 
And once you’ve left this form 
you will again remember that you are love and light 
and have never and will never be alone.

But, if only you could wake up while you’re still here, 
then yes, you could change the world.  
You would bend the universe.
And that which you are looking for would find you, 
undistracted, unrestrained, and beautiful, 
at which point I will slip my hand into yours 
and then you won’t remember a moment before I arrived.

Please stop seeking me out in the eyes of every stranger whose form you find appealing

Your life is calling.  
Please pick it up.  

You’ll find me on the other end of the line.
Carla Marie Sep 2014
you're the oldest in the line
you're now the matriarch
exclaimed my beloveds...
**** how'd this happen?!
I thought with a start- cuz
this is not a part
that i tried for
expected or vied for
All i did was keep livin...
didn't even do it
to my own satisfaction
but all of my mothers are long gone... and
i had to learn to
be my own caution sign
listen to my own still small voice
hug myself when necessary... and
it's taken quite some time
to reconcile me with me
come to grips with my nature
find my
Individuals Peace
which is good... ultimately...
Cuz all of my mothers
are gone
mk Jun 2015
you always spoke of a brighter future
were you referring to the 9 to 5 jobs?
to the apple pie life
or the romance lacking relationship with your wife?
did you mean the mortgages,
the taxes, or the men with grey hair in grey suits?
the jobs you do just for the money
or the people who speak too much, but are still mute?
did you mean the polluted skies or the cursing taxi drivers?
did you mean the way when she touches you, you feel no fire?
how nothing makes you feel alive
but you’re still not really dead?
how nothing is wrong
but you’re itching to put a bullet through your head?
when you said you were working towards a better future
did you mean a life of monotony, dullness and boredom?
what happened to your love of adventure, of mystery,
to your dreams of martyrdom?

looking back now,
would you take it all back?
would you change the way you did things
fill in the gaps?
or would you continue to oblige to the rules and regulations
would you still mindlessly follow the system?
would you carry on doing what they tell you?
those who bossed you around, would you still be with them?
or would you soar and fly
ask questions, ask why?
would you run in the jungles
and climb the highest mountains
would you swim in the seas
and tell your beloveds that you love them?

we only have one life
and we’re always waiting for it to change
we’re working towards a future
to which we have no claim
live, live, I beg you to live
make mistakes and fall
then get back on your feet
don’t hesitate, take it all
for the future is not ours
and the past is too late
but we have the present
don’t let it go to waste
// carpe diem till the very end //
zebra Apr 2017
she became sexually excited
by the thought of being eaten
like a piece of spit roasted chicken
slow cooked
fall off the bone
melt in your mouth
**** food

as she reflected back
she could not remember a time
when she did not harbor
this venomous ache
wanting wanting wanting
what she should not want

she obsessed
some times she dare cut herself
admiring the split tissue
first thin white peaks
the emergent sticky red plush
then the little red river Nile
just a taste
better not eat to much
teeheehee

one summer evening
sitting alone
in a crowded pub
sharing a table with a strange couple
not from around here.
definitely not
may be from outer space

girl became fixated on
their presence

their intensity pierced
like a needle through a banana

both of them lean & tall
almost architectural
like black rod iron gates en-castleations
hair combed straight back jet black
like licorice

the woman wore a tight small bun
immaculate
ornate rings with enshrined family crest
manicured like Malibu real estate
both dressed to ****

girl was drawn to them
they emitted a sense of terror
thrilling her, making her sweat
they looked good enough to eat her

she felt her **** dampen
as they all peered at each other
the man, the woman
siting before her
like Medusa's
with shape shift mouths
and eyes that kiss your soul
till it bleeds
making girl feel like lamb chops
with a side of pom fritz
perhaps a glass of merlot

the woman mused at her
with eyes like black Cole
touched her hand and said
so veautiful

girl found herself in a plain house dress
******-less, bare foot
her toes had been lovingly painted
black with with rich clear lacquer
with no memory of her arrival

woman saunters in
buoyant like a pink float
******* clad

her countenance
like white seamless marble
her eye socket darkened
like pouting dark rose ****
walked to girl
kiss her mouth
then again and again
each time longer deeper sweeter
like a swarm of licking bees
i am yellow daffodils girl thought

man enters like grand swinging doors
to a great cathedral
licks kisses girls mouth
so tender
he tasted of dark butter ***
a hint of worm perhaps
touching her *******
her ******* growing attentive
**** wet wet wet
like low hanging summer fruit

man says we are not human
we are

dragool
undead
loogaroo
dampir
soucoyant


may we please eat you my love
we like for food and the darkest ***
we treasure every morsel
your blood gives us strength
your viscera a prized dark stew
your death brings us optimism
your sacrifice sustains us
we eat you with tears of blood
because we love you
and your body is our holy sacrament
you are our Christ

girl says
you are my destiny
my beloveds
come show me your love
feast on me
take me slow with kisses, black mamba tongue and razor teeth
i do not run from you my darlings

girl disrobed
centered herself on the table
spreads her self wide
like a contortionist
knees held to her chest
toes pointed
feet arched

the man and the woman
on all 4s
hovered like hyenas
first with kisses
womans *** curved like a pearl
her ******* longish as if
stretched silk
with foreboding dark plum aureoles

the mans ****
arterial contoured like a tear drop
a creeping snake with dark appetites
a dispenser of paralytic toxin and MDA
a **** thats poisons and exults
some where between love and death

each of them beautiful
girl thought ooooooowwww

there where long periods of kissing at first
then wet tongues insinuating themselves
in dark rose ****
pink primrose *****
mouths feeding mouths feeding mouths
foot adorations and then teeth and little bites
and mumblings about the grace of Satan
and uncrossing themselves
and thunderous goetic rituals
for fear that god would take their girl away
their lovely food
there sweet bleeding lover
their robe of blood
and starve them
they wept tears of gratitude
as they licked and tore flesh

the pain of their bites excited girl
oh it hurt so
braking her soul
as they ate her sweetbreads

girl
pushed passed limits
pushed past limitlessness
despicable delirious delicious
her **** inflamed

girl thought in fractured clouds
and heaping *******
before fading in to dark water labyrinths


finally she thought
i am lamb chops
with aside of pom fritz
perhaps a glass of merlot

but most of all i am girl
feeding those i love

her very last words
come my darklings
finish me now
clean your plates
drink your wine
and remember

eat up
there are children starving in Africa
Christian Bixler Nov 2014
I walk through the pouring rain, wind howling at my face, tearing, my hair blows in the wind. The rain streams down my youthful face, aged now, with grief and pain, rain like tears, falls from empty sky. I walk through twilit streets, dim with mist and rain, and I wander, lost in daylight dreams, a haze of visions, enshrouding me, embracing me....her touch soft on my cheek, her gaze gentle, and yet strong, helping me, guiding me out of the howling storms of my inner mind, her whisper warm against my ear, her tears hot, mix with mine, as she whispers, her words full of love and quiet strength, even as she weeps, quiet tears. I fall into dark oblivion, lulled by her caring words, and the soft and gentle sounds of her weeping. I am walking. That, a distant memory, gone, shattered into a million shards of brightest glass, her screams mingle with mine, her body cold on empty street, the wind howls, leaves whipping past my pale face. I hold her, tears streaming, falling, her life bleeding out, trickling, slowing....she draws in a ragged breath, tongue poised for words, eyes desperate, pleading. She dies, breath sighing, slipping, back, into that cruel Autumnal world. I fall, head cradled against her chilling breast, blood slowing now, stopping. She is cold against me. I scream, world uncaring, carries on, and I alone, agony cold in my chest, I fall into the deepest black, her screams echoing after me, down into the dark of sleep. I walk, the rain pours down, the wind cuts me, chills me, dank hair falling, I walk alone, and empty, of life of love, of joy of peace.
I walk, and that empty pain, bitter as the dregs of cheapest wine, roars up, a storm once held in check by her love and gentle tears, strengthened by newer loss and fresher pain, it wells up, and I scream, ragged and tearing. I fall, knees scraping, stones stabbing, mud and leaves pulling, reaching, for my weary soul. I weep for pain and bitter grief, the storms roaring, within, without. I look up at cloudy sky, grey and empty, rain falling like bitter tears. I fall, limbs failing, heart quailing, beneath the empty, bitter pain. I lie here, amidst the mud and leaves, rain whipping past, wind screaming, I lie, consumed at last, by grief, cold fingers squeezing my screaming heart. I lie here, and wait for death, and my beloveds gentle tears.
Autumnal grief and bitter pain. These are the themes of this poem. I wish that love be not so fragile, and trust not so easily shattered, irreparably, lost in a million shining fragments of cutting glass.
Mohd Arshad Dec 2021
Snowflakes

Fall
       At my window


I kiss
         My
              Beloveds

— The End —