As I walk through

As I walk through
As I walk through the valley
of the shadow of LA
The footsteps that were next to me
have gone their separate ways
I''ve seen enough now
to know that beautiful things
don''t always stay that way
I''ve done enough now
to know this beautiful place
isn''t everything they say
  

Jun, 17 2010     281 chars (2 sms)     2823 views       English Poetry

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Still I smile
And pretend to be carefree ,
But whats behind ?
Nobody ever tried to see .

Like a poison inside me
Still I wanna you to hold ,
Desperately I wanna breath
But my breaths have turned frozen and cold .

Through my body
Like blood you run ,
Now you are my night
And the only sun .

So don''t feel hurted
And never do leave my eyes ,
A bond of love
Ours relation is
Who Is Here? Who Is There?

In the Garden, when the autumn wind blows,
In the bird’s voice there is wailing and lamentation.

In the lovesick nightingale’s song there is a call,
with a different effect, a different mark.

Still, the nightingale is yearning for the love of the flower.
Still, the salamander is nesting in the oven.

Still, Mansur is hanging on the gallows.
He says: “I’m the Truth,” yet the secret (truth) is hidden.

Still, Zulaykha is not afraid of rebuke.
Still, Yusuf is evading Zulaykha.

Still, the Christian maiden is breaching Sheikh San’an''s faith.
Still, the Sheikh is tending her swine.
I didn’t decide to carry the load of sorrow,
sorrow existed, this house of sorrow also existed.

I didn’t lift the Jam-e Jam to drink wine,
wine existed, this house of wine also was there.

It is said: "He who created the house of love,
let the beloved burn and the lover burnt."

The cruelty of the red rose, and the cry of the nightingale—
the candle existed, and this moth also existed.

One’s pain is too much, another’s little,
one’s heart is afflicted, another’s smiles.
On your knee, in the lamplight,
dipping buttered toast in your coffee,
I hear the hush of the silent house.
The other children gone off to school,
you and I sit together
alone in the dim morning light,
full of love and trust,
chattering to one another about
simple times with unfurrowed brows.
We were so close then.
I hold that memory in my mind
like an old black and white photograph
one would carry in a wallet, worn soft
from years of riding in a back pocket,
a photo
showing the ones you love,
the most beautiful mother,
the best loved and dearest held,
the treasured one--
to be shown far from home.
Laugh so hard that even
sorrow smiles at u!
Live life so well that even
death loves to see u live!
Fight so hard that even
fate accepts its defeat.
MoM I LoVe YoU



Growing up you were so dear,
things to me you made so clear.
You clothed me with things to wear,
comfort you gave through the years.

Mother your love is sincere,
you taught me how to persevere.
To me now they do adhere,
no punishment too severe.

Mom I love you, never to stray,
I have taken in your loving way.
I bless you mother as I pray
I roam by day, in search of shady trees
In between these huge palaces of stone
A shady place to sleep time and sun away
and then return to that old cold stone.
And to dream, looking at the mocking stars.

The sun slowly peeps at me, smiling
and I naughtily show my back to him
The world starts running around quickly
And tries to wake me up, but in vain
All I know and have, is my sleep galore.

These few lines, for those homeless friends, who sleep on the streets, these few lines, for our helplessness on seeing them. These few lines for their prayers and our reasons.
O Bearer, bring the wine that brings joy
To increase generosity, & let perfection buoy
Give me some, for I have lost my heart
Both traits from me have kept apart
Bring the wine whose reflection in the cup
Signals to all the kings whose times are up
Give me wine, and with the reed-flute I will sing
When was Jamshid, and when Kavoos was king
Bring me the elixir whose grace and alchemy
Bestows treasures, from bonds of time sets free
Give me so they''ll open the doors once again
Of long life and the bliss that will remain
Bearer give the wine that the Holy Grail
Will make claims of sight in the Void and thus fail
Give me so that I, with the help of the Grail
All secrets, like Jamshid, themselves avail
Speak of the tale of the wheel of fate
Majnun is drunk from love, and Layla is drunk from coyness.
The mountain existed and this madman also existed.

The eyes of beauties were drunken and murderous.
Her tongue was like sugar, and her lips the confectioner.

The suffering boy and the loving girl existed,
the tyrant father and miser mother were also there.

That teasing that breaches faith,
the arrow of coy that pierces the soul,


It was not that Mazun was targeted last night,
the arrow was there and the target was there.
People frm every walk of life
Envisage victory and strife
But at some point u find
Tardiness in ur life and mind
Your life stops and comes to an end
And u are in oblivion with nothing to fight for or defend
Anything may stimulate it
Personal loss or a jobles status maybe fit
But such a break from your daily buzz
Lets u rethink on your deed with not much fuss
then u realise that all those painstaking days
With pangs of emotion ,joy and anger has left u frail
Making u maudlin and in a state of enigma
U wail out unconsciously ''Oh Ma...''
Then u wonder y u were ever born
Is it to end up like this ,hopeless and forlorn???
U ponder over your contribution to the world
Then as u go deeper to the murky mind,u even question the existence of such a world
As I turn out the lightAs I turn out the light
And look up the moon
I put my hands together
And pray that your okay

I gaze across the sky
And court the many stars
As I wonder what you are doing
Wonder where you are

No matter where I go
I always see your face
I hear the sound of your voice
In every single place

Although you’re far away
In my heart you’ll always be
In my prayers you’ll always mentioned
In my dreams you’ll always seen….



As i Look the stars above me,
I wish you were somewhere
One lover is roaring.
He is eager to see a shining face.

Another is distressed,
keen to see her lustrous hair.

Another desires his lover’s breasts.
Describes them as ripe pomegranates,
Hails them improperly,
Praises apples of Isfahan.

One lover says: "My beloved is going away.
My liver''s blood became my wine.
From my cry the world became deaf.
Is this friend in the grinding mill?"

Mine is above all others'' loves.
He is dear, a husband to widows.

He knows everything,
whether the meaning or the expression.

The light of his candle doesn''t vanish.
He is the beloved, I''m the lover.

He is the ocean, Mazun the fish,
How wonderful, what an endless sea he is.