Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
/
Many days
I do not read any newspaper
Even do not see television
At all
Many days have gone
After You
I do not read any poetry

How to feel that since this morning!
Repeatedly hear identifying tunes on the air

Your arrival in the sky,
The air reverberates
Looks like another day
In the Paradise,
In another song,
Which brings the soul
The Aroma

Everyone is coming out
From all sides
Young Old
Babies Boys
Women Men
Everyone
Everyone is clapping
Singing the song of the same tune
This song is not the song of Rain
Not even a lamentation

The Southern breeze whispering your words
Slowly Said,
The Little Tailor Bird
No, No,
Not such a summer afternoon
Not even a hurricane warning

Each of the human eye
Follow the Eastern Sky  
Tireless Eye
Watching the sun,
The Red Sun,
You went to bring dreams for us
From the Sun

Hundreds of thousands of people
In his next question
Hand with Flower
Shoulder to Shoulder
Today will be the day of strangers,
The poet will come
We are standing in the flowers
Fist full of dreams to take

Float in the sky with white clouds
My dreams are calling again
Today is not such an Autumn
But Still feel like an Autumn
Indeed,  
The poet will come,
A poem in the New

Where each word will be spoken dream
Love to be evacuated
Poems that will repay
The debt to my Ancestor
Take revenge on thee
For their injustice,
Torture
Poems that would bring the stars
For our next generation
A poem that would bring the red rose for my darling,
Would bring such a smile to my mother's face
As Moon that smile
And that is simply killed false dreams
Will we ever Released
Sing Freedom Songs

The Poet,
My beloved Poet
You will come,
Will surely come
And will recite your immortal poem
/

@ Musfiq us shaleheen
/
dear respectable fellow poet, poetess readers
if you like this poem please share your comments and repost the poem.
I will be grateful to you.....
/
 Jan 2015 Kenshō
JWolfeB
Science has discovered the speed of light

I am present and perplexed at the speed of darkness
 Jan 2015 Kenshō
Hayleigh
I refuse to follow a trail
Where others,
carelessly crush
their individuality firmly
into the ground,
willingly hush their hopes and dreams
so they no longer make a sound,
bury them so deep,
they no longer can be found

You do as you please
but darling
listen to my hopes
bellowing below the seas
listen to my dreams
echoing in the breeze
because me?
i'll be blazing a trail so bright
it'll dull the suns light and
bring the trees to their knees.
 Jan 2015 Kenshō
Tiberias Paulk
I dream of breathing deeply, without any aid or skill
my mind was born sleeping, surrounded by the still
this body's just an anchor, to the world and all I know
it ties me to the precipice, where I think of letting go
in spirit I soar freely, though these words weigh me down
where I organize entropy, to keep my feet on the ground
 Jan 2015 Kenshō
Tiberias Paulk
In the dark of the nighttime, papyrus well lit
these embers of imagination are bright where I sit
by spark of the dreamer whose words I read
dead for many ages yet renewed is the seed
planted in the fertile reaches of my mind
wisdom handed down for posterity to find
I hear plainly these voices, deep as they are sage
and thirst for the knowledge contained in the page
 Jan 2015 Kenshō
Tiberias Paulk
With motley colors unbroken you rearrange
until words plain spoken grow and change
unbent by convention unbowed by kings
reinvent a connection with all living things
watch on the sidelines or stand up to shout
following guidelines is not what it's about
own the voice that sprouts from your lungs
it reverberates a choice from the center of one
///
Knowledge has grown with time
from our origin
and through evolution of nature
we have taken this information
and carry on
by generation to generation
with our gene
feelings are pinning you,
every second
every minute and every day,
gathered like clouds,
that has grown as rain in the horizon

Your brain has taken
millions of feelings,
making your mind,
taken those feelings,
bound all together magnetically

We discovered love, hate
pain, tears, laugh
even our words
all have made with emotion
accumulate of emotions are feelings
and millions of feelings make a mind
where there we make our love
where there we make our song
and there we make our life

But not all the seasons are same
the spring, rain and the winter
change over and being--
as we see through our life
neither always so rhythmic
nor always so romantic
neither too harmonic
nor too motioning
but all the time we carry emotions
that hurts our growing mind
changes its physical structure
and makes a new shape
as the ocean moves through the continents
and change its structure continuously--

We see tears flowing from her eyes,
you say pain,
that can also moves through vein
as the river runs through the vale
as like as water coming from a waterfall
moving like a stream
it has tasted salty,
those tears are to be torn
and turned to be stone
that has to be made the crystals,
crystalline through land and sea--

If those tears move too long and mad
it has formed layer
and has settled layer by layer
over an ocean bed
as the ripple marked,
silted and compact through time
grown as a dark shale,
black and compact
finally,we see our feelings has turned to the matter
///
@ Musfiq us shaleheen
///
If like this poem please share/repost this piece.....
best wishes...
Musfiq

///
 Dec 2014 Kenshō
Juneau
awake
 Dec 2014 Kenshō
Juneau
remember to always follow your dreams.
starting this conditioning early instills the message so deep
that you're never quite aware, that in order to follow
your dreams you must first remain asleep
this is how they've created generation after generation
of obedient, self absorbed, consumerist sheep
where nothing is more precious to yourself then
the possessions that we keep
conforming to what's cool
owning the newest technology
and never looking cheap
join the hottest trends, stay in the loop
you're rising high on the social ladder
a fall from here is awfully steep
the fear of this fall turns you into a materialistic creep

these social constructs we all need to together break
or no one in our western society will ever truly be awake
December 8, 2014

thirty-nine
Were I to sit so singly willed
to write of you, my love the quill
I would find myself utterly unskilled
at etching the strength of your will

Were I to sing, songs of praise
of your stunning self, so vividly ablaze
yet concealed so well, all in a haze
I would sing myself hoarse, making my case

Were I ever to try, and measure your heart
the depths of the love that I call mine own
I would find the universe, eternal and stark
nestled deep within, whispering to my soul
calling me along, to worlds unknown.
Love is not for the faint-hearted, so tread wisely.
Next page