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JAMIL HUSSAIN Oct 2016
''My imagination of a poet and poetess
sharing their first conversation.''*

Poetess:
Gazing upon your clay-cup,
My eyes judge that you are alike,
So raise your crown, and wake-up,
O' my dreamlike!

Poet:
My soul a boundless wave,
Seeks a ray of light in solitude,
You seem a queen and I a slave,
Perhaps your eyes are hued?

_

Poetess:
O' ruler, disguised in veil,
Thirst in your eyes an ocean for me,
And my soul has pined for such zeal,
You are bliss on earth craving for me.

Poet:
Aroma of your gentle devotion,
And a stir of my visions have raised the wings,
My passion is scattered alike dust in the winds,
O' wise and brave, what is your emotion?

_

Poetess:
Your presence before me, an arrival of moon,
My heart opening its eyelids to a new majesty,
And the soul is dancing in the rapturing monsoon,
O' beautiful, my yearnings lay in your agony.

Poet:
O' elegance of such heavenly delight,
Your beauty a messenger to my heart,
And my soul lay in extremes of your excite,
O' pearl of my pride, my image and my art.

_

Poetess:
O' merchant of intoxicating whispers,
Ecstasy arises from within your tongue,
New clouds of joy are unveiling in my heart,
And may such unity never be apart.

Poet:
O' morning dew, if you dare come close,
My affection wants to hold you in its arms,
Waiting are my kisses on a throne of rose,
And elating are your splendid charms.

_

Poetess:
O' beautiful, O' flowing stream,
Embrace my soul in your captivity,
I desire to be seized in your esteem,
And my heart rests in such festivity.

Poet:
O' blessed wine, O' sweetness of my existence,
Your love arose like the morning sun upon my chest,
Elevating me and pouring like a spring within my breast.

✒ ℐamil Hussain
Pardeep Aug 2016
i kept lying to myself
"everything will be the same"
but after you left
everything changed
the lies we tell ourself only make the pain hurt more.
Àŧùl Jul 2016
I can guarantee one thing with one hundred percent accuracy,
The moment you put your original display picture, many boys will go crazy,
And twice as many girls will contemplate suicide in jealousy.
This one is for my Sindhi friend Bhumika Fulwani!
She's so downright legitimately gorgeous!
The comedy about it is that she doesn't realise it yet.

I miss her poems, she did make few mistakes like plagiarising but she was unaware of the seriousness it means.

Some people here are just so hostile that instead of teaching her not to repeat it, they abused her emotionally and she was made to delete her account.

My HP Poem #1105
©Atul Kaushal
Sparkling Dust Jul 2016
I love a programmer
He is always there making codes
On different ways in order
To show how much he loves you so

There are times when he would
Just throw some complex hints at me
With utmost best I could
Try to find the meaning and see

See that maybe I'm right
With the theory that I have made
And maybe, just maybe
My words rhyme with what's in your head

But sometimes I want to
Just let go and then erase it
Sometimes I want you to
Be brave enough to just admit

That I'm something to you
Not a computer you play with
That your feelings are true
There's no condition that you need

I am afraid to feel
The tragic end of a sonnet
Where two lovers for real
Are mere strangers who'll never ever meet
“If we rhyme, then...”
Jenn Coke Jan 2016
Written by me,
Written to you,
Written for us –

I am your poetess,
You are my poem,
We are living poetry.

I am your pen,
You are my words,
We are an incomplete manuscript.

I am your ink,
You are my pages,
We are an unfinished book.

I am your vessel,
You are my essence,
We are an ongoing story.

I will not stop writing,
You will not stop inspiring,
We will not stop creating –
True love poetess
A little nostalgia lost
******* the picture!
m i a Jan 2016
she was strong
an she was bold
her words were as
pure as gold
her skin was young
but her tongue
was wise
and her eyes
were as beautiful as the skies
she was strong
and she was bold
and words were as pure as gold.
a description of a young poetess. <3
Pardeep Jan 2016
It's too much to handle,
flaring inside
like a house fire sparked by a candle.

The larger the fire the harder to hide,
silently engulfing everything it brushes.
Burning the inside while the outside stays intact,

as the smoke rushes
darkening vision,
burning and burning until there is nothing but ashes,
in the burden of hate.
Pardeep Dec 2015
I've lost touch with myself,
left with nothing but despair.
How do I find myself?
I've looked everywhere.
Pardeep Dec 2015
There are birds on my porch,
small and cute,
they have brownish black feathers
with little beer bellies too.
All eating rice,
but some are fighting over one grain
even though there is enough for all
to eat more than ten times.
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