On your knee

On your knee
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.
  

Jun, 17 2010     625 chars (4 sms)     4108 views       English Poetry

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Slowly you become a memory
and start to fade away
as each week that passes by
I''m starting to feel OK

i cared about you dearly
i treated you like gold
i waited for the same
but was left out in the cold

you were mean and selfish
you treated me like dirt
you dug deeper and deeper
just to get me hurt

after everything you did
your wish didn''t come true
you will always remain a memory
but never forget i actually loved you!
"October''s The Month
When The Smallest Breeze
Gives Us A Shower
Of Autumn Leaves.
Bonfires And Pumpkins,
Leaves Sailing Down -
October Is Red
And Golden And Brown."
- Can Teach Songs

"Listen! The Wind Is Rising,
And The Air Is Wild With Leaves,
We Have Had Our Summer Evenings,
Now For October Eves!"
- Humbert Wolfe
As I look outside I see the breeze
Caress the leaves from the trees
And carry them to all around
Gently laid upon the ground
I see the birds so high above
Their songs sing of our special love
And laid upon their soft sweet wing
Your love to me they gently bring
And as they start their graceful descent
Delivering a message that’s heaven sent
One thing I know and will hold so dear
When I see them fly I will feel you near
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.
Where do you run in such a hurry?
To the embracing arms of god,
Or to relish a feast, spread by the lord
Is there someone there to ferry?
To another bank of this mad river.

"Going Home", you say, and I stare
"What is home?", I''ve never known
"What do you do there?", I seek by my own
"It`s night!, I am going to sleep"
I died in laughter that day and my life long.

Slept, I have all this life, right here
On this solid ground, slept in peace.
No lack of mirth, in my hungry soul
No lack of bruises, on my lonely body
And, Slept I have in peace, right here.

"Why on the streets?", you demand to know
"Help yourselves", you seem to say
"Why, Where and How?", my eyes plead
Do you have the time to show me the way?
Poor Helpless soul, you simply walk away.
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.
Whn dere''s no frend
Whn lyf is on d dead end
Whn world isn''t a paradise
Whn ur confidence dies
Tell urself
"Go On, This Is LIFE"

Whn things dn''t go right
Whr dere''s no ray of lite
And its too hard to survive
Tell urself
"Go On, This Is LIFE"

Whn other dn''t respect u
Whn u r nt amongst d admirable few
Whn for a question, u can''t find a solution
Whn u r sure abt, is confusion
Tell urself
"Go On, This Is LIFE"

Whn ur destination is miles apart
Whn u dn''t knw whr to start
Whn all u c around in pain
Whn ur hardwork is in vain
Tell urself
"Go On, This Is LIFE"
You are friendly, kind and caring
Sensitive, loyal and understanding
Humorous, fun, secure and true
Always there... yes that''s you.

Special, accepting, exciting and wise
Truthful and helpful, with honest blue eyes
Confiding, forgiving, cheerful and bright
Yes that''s you... not one bit of spite.

You''re one of a kind, different from others
Generous, charming, but not one that smothers
Optimistic, thoughtful, happy and game
But not just another... in the long chain.

Appreciative, warm and precious like gold
Our friendship won''t tarnish or ever grow old
You''ll always be there, I know that is true
I''ll always be here... always for you.
It is Love
that gives me purpose
to change and grow and learn.
It is Love that guides me on this path
and helps me choose each turn.

It is Love
that gives me courage
to stand against my fears;
to open up my heart to you,
to let you see my tears.

It is Love
that gives me trust and hope
when little thing go wrong.
When distance stands between us,
it is Love that keeps me strong.

It is Love
that offers harmony
and a friendship that is true.
How wonderful that I can share
a Love like this with you... ;->
On occasion we wonder what our purpose in life is,

We don’t listen to our inner voice, ignoring his.

Something inside propels us to act,

Yet we often fail to recognize it and simply don’t react.

Perhaps we have known all along,

But we are too afraid that we could be wrong.

We must take a chance on our given talent,

Each and every one of us can be valiant.

If we veer off track,

Something inside will pull us back.

Maybe it could be we are being tested,

So when our individual purpose becomes clear, it is not ignored or rejected.
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 had once thought
that maybe this was life.
No love, no hate, no feelings.
My deepest feelings would never be shared.
I was so frightened;
I didn''t know what to do.
Scared of this one man all my life.
Face my fear, I told myself!
But it''s so hard, so confusing.
Do you know what it''s like
to wonder in darkness?
It never stops, never ends.
It goes on like a story with no ending.
Do you know how it feels
to be afraid of something
that you can''t do anything about?
That you didn''t ask for or even think about?
Do you know what it''s like? Do you know how it feels?
It''s complete and pure emptiness!