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Burning pain

Burning pain
Misery and tears
My heart torn by broken promises
Your lies echo through my mind
No place to run
No place to hide
I try to ignore my pain
Daily my tears flow
My beauty marred
My spirit crushed
Your anger
Your criticism
Your violence
I can do no right
I try to please, to make things acceptable
For you
To no avail
How to end my suffering
There is no respite
By you, my deep love forgotten
There are others who fill your thoughts
Who make you smile

My love for you

My love for you is simple, deep, and strong.
I feel it flowing towards you from my heart,
A tide of unsophisticated song,
Sung with much desire and little art.
I cannot tell my love, but it will show
In ways that even I cannot foresee;
A love as full as mine must overflow
Into everything that makes me, me.
Just as the sun must shine to be the sun
And trees burst forth in blossom every year,
So I must love in ways that everyone
Can see or sense or reason out or hear.
Still, I''ll tell you of my love in this:
For fear, despite all, you might my love miss.

SmiLiNg Is NoT

SmiLiNg Is NoT My ReAliTy,
This Is HoW I PrEtEnD To Be,
By NiGhT I CrY MySeLf To SlEeP,
WiD My GoD FrOwNiNg At Me,
DrOwnInG In A FlOoD Of TeArS,
BuT TeArs Are My DeStInY,
My ViSiOn A BlUr As I FuLLFiLL,
AnD This Is HoW I MeAnT To Be,
My LiFe UnWoRthY,
My SelF To KiLL,
ExIsTeNcE A ToRtUrE I MuSt EnDurE,
As U RegArDeD SuiCiDe As SiN,
I M NoT AgAiNsT U My HeArt Is PuRe,
FaTe Is MoCkInG WiTh An EviL GriN,
SuRrOuNDeD In A BlAcK NeSs So DeEp,
I WaLk,I SeE But SuRvIvE No MoRe,
I M DeAd InSiDe,
In DaRkNeSs WeEp,
YoU KnoW I LoVe U,
LIkE EvEr BeFoRe,
FoRgIvE Me As In My GrAvE I LaY,
FrEe Me oF ThiS PaIn AnD LeT Me DiE,
I JuSt CaNT BaRe It AnY MoRe:''(

The sweet laughter

The sweet laughter—I didn’t love in vain.
I didn’t graft reason onto love.

She pulls me, she pulls me with her lasso-like braid.
How could I be separated from her ambergris-scented hair?

Peris, lovely, tall beauties –
Mazun won’t refuse if they want his soul.

I’ve put my head in their path.
My head’s bad luck is because of my tongue.

Because of you

Because of you I chose exile,
I’ve been estranged from my tribe for some time.

I watered my flower with my tears,
Injustice! Don’t take me away from my flower.

There’s nothing wrong if a king wants a pauper,
If a pauper desires a king, he can’t help it.

My desire is too high; my luck is too low,
There is no cure for this pain but death.

What’s with the melancholic ascetic?
He argues with me about faith and religion.

The religion of the lover is the beloved.
I’m taking no path but my own.

One has become

One has become Moses and has seen the Beloved on Mount Sinai.
One, like Jesus, has seen the Beloved while crucified.

One has seen in the dark, another in the light.
Each person has a different path to the Friend’s neighborhood.

One becomes like soil, and kisses the threshold.
Another becomes fervent then flutters.

One, like Mazun, makes his chest a shield,
seeking the arrow of love.

Each Person Has A

Each Person Has A Different Path To The Friend’s Neighborhood

We exchanged reason for love.
Everybody is a buyer of a different good.

The mystic’s design and mark is distinct,
A different bazaar, a different shop.

It’s a different journey, a distinct world.
It’s different from this world and the other world.

Those on the land are unaware of those in the air.
A good from Ethiopia is different from one from Central Asia.

One who is in the sea is ignorant of some one who is in the desert.
Everybody is the king of his own city.

Who Is Here? Who Is There?

Still, Majnun desires to become insane.
Still, Layla’s camel flees the caravan.

Still, the noise of Farhad’s pickaxe can be heard.
Still, Shirin’s tale is sweet to tell.

Who is calling and who is telling in the music of the saz?
Everything becomes musical. Who spends life from moment to moment?

Mazun says: “Who is here? Who is on there?”
He is here; he is there. Where is he?

Who Is Here? Who Is There?

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.

1st impression

1st impression:

Just when I thought I d seen it all
our paths crossed and met
and I Knew from the First glance
that u would be hard 2 4get
your eyes attracted me First
but you reeked of sultry confidence
I couldn t wait 2 touch lips
and kiss with my Heart s intentions
when we did it was what I expected
and 4 that moment we erased the tension
of the awkwardness of First Date Jitters
and the initial Blind Date First impressions
we kissed again and I felt the passion
and this was CUPID s blessing

Hours Pass By

Hours Pass By

I think of u in my arms
and what it would be like 2 make love
I think of u raising my SEED
and what they d be made of
I think of how alone I was
before u came 2 be
I think of the joy I felt
when u said u thought of me
I?m proud 2 be the heart u
choose 2 make a friend
hours pass by and cupid cries
until we meet again

Daffodils

Daffodils

I wander''d lonely as a cloud

...That floats on high o''er vales and hills,

When all at once I saw a crowd,

...A host, of golden daffodils;

Beside the lake, beneath the trees,

Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

Continuous as the stars that shine

...And twinkle on the Milky Way,

They stretch''d in never-ending line

...Along the margin of a bay;

Ten thousand saw I at a glance,

Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

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