The Heart aches, this heart breaks...

The heartbreak,   this heart aches,  what can you say

He , a beauty, who shines ever so brightly what can you say

To see him, I was stricken oh so

A moth to the flame, what can you say

The days go by so fast in his longing

The time stands still when we meet, what can you say

Whenever I looked inside my heart's mirror,

All I could see, a reflection of he, what can you say

Day and night, dawn to dusk, I pined for him so,

As we intertwined in each other till the sunrise, what can you say

Sublime, his presence, personified love itself

His touch oh so overwhelming, what can you say 

Fury, a quatrain

I seeth with the fire of a thousand suns today

Though the sky covers with rancourous clouds

I cannot hold this fury within me

No longer will I wear it's shroud

Haiku

Let me not 

Live the dreams of others

But mine alone 

I Dared To Love

I dared to love and follow my dreams,

Strangely enough I deemed 

To pursue one's heart's desires

The fire within me stoking higher

Could melt a mountain at it's seems

Do you fear now?

Do you fear now?

Do you fear the living

For you are living

For I am living

Do you still fear the living?

The living are the speaking

speaking their living,

Yet you don't fear them speak.  

Words and meanings 

Hand in hand 

Full of the zest of living

The living are the mankind 

Mankind, living 

Yet you do not fear mankind 

You fear the unspoken

That, what hasn't yet happened 

You fear that unhappened,

You fear the unknown of the unhappened

There have been times past

That nothing made any sense

Yet you kept going on

In hopes of hope. 

What do you know...

When lips dare not move

But hands become alive in protest

Showing the way, speaking the truth

Those hands become alive 

Like the morning prayer at the crack of dawn

Do you fear the coming morning and it's light.

For you are that light, so am I.

Across this city, that feared the shadow of a specter, 

No more lurks in it's perfidy.

From the hoardes of humanity, a voice speaks out

In that mankind speaks forth, fearless

Out of the darkness,

Man flows out, like a bubbling fountain

You fear the now, yet you are the Now

So am I, the Now.

You fear the Now. 

At the end of the day

At the end of the day, when I repose

And reflect upon the hardships of my toil;

I wish for you, sitting next to me.

You ask me how my day passed.

I sigh and smile at you. It is better now

That I am in your company, for my troubles are forgotten.

The harsh words of strangers strike my heart and cut my soul.

I suffer uncounted pains, but, the very thought of you sustains me.

Nary a moment passes,

nary an hour

When I don’t think of you.

You are on my breath, you are in my blood, you are on my flesh.

I love you now and forever.

Epitaph

Who will remember me when I die,
Not for the want of coin  I won,

Not for the favor of friends gained or lost,
But the good I did, the kindness spoken,

Unbegot, forgotten, unsung,
Who will lament, rue,  and cry
As I am lost to the infinite, the oblivion.

When I  die,  all I want
is for someone
to remember me
No accolades or praise,  nor any award
Just a simple memory,
that he was a good man
loved by some.

The Dream Peddler - a translation

Scattered, strewn, in the various corners of this desolate city
Dreams, of the down trodden, bent-neck devoid of their content and meaning
Of Which the city dwellers are unaware

I go out searching for them, day and night
To gather them, clean them up,
Rinse out their grim and grime
To burn them in the kiln of my burning heart

Thus, Their countenance would shine like those of bridegrooms on their wedding day.
Perhaps, once again these dreams would get their direction.

I venture out with my crate of dreams,
As I yell out, to the people, "Dreams for sale! Dreams for sale!"

They yell back, " Are they for real? Or are they illusory,"
They gawk at my wares, as though
Only they are the connoisseurs of fables and tales. 

They look, but do not touch.
Thinking, perhaps these dreams are sublime, like mist fleeting as the sun warms the early morning.
They pay no heed to my wares, all the while skirting away. 

Day turns to dusk.
I yell out again,
"Take them for free, just take them off my hands"

They get even more scared and skittish of the prospects of free dreams.
"What sorcery is this?
What vagabondary?
Beware, he says they are free,  but what delusions  these dreams may wrought?"

The night falls,
I return, with my dreams unsold and broken back to my slumber.

As I lay my head down to sleep,
I mumble in my dreams,
"Dreams for sale, dreams, zzzz"

The Hands Tell A Story

Raw, dry with the air, Scratched and scraped, Soft or subtle, with vibrancy of life
the hands tell a story unto their own.

A handshake , calloused palms, each blister akin to the tale from which it boiled forth

The grip, firm to convey a message of steadfastness
Yet sensual when fingers tickle the inside to suggest the desire. 

I look at my own hands, remembering
When as a boy how small the were in my father's own, when held in protection

How I cut myself with a tool as a youth, in a single folly of ineptitude trying to be a man.

And now, as middle age happens upon them
I see my father's past and my own future as though the dryness carts the tracks of my passing time.

I make my future with them by not reading them anymore.

I called you beautiful and you said so was I.

I called you beautiful and you said so was I.
It that moment, it was no lark, no lie.
My heart filled with bliss,  tears to my eye,
As water falls down from the vastness of the sky.

I called you beautiful and you said so was I.
A thousand bells just rang in the steeples of my heart,
That sacred trust, that bond of hope
I yearn to keep, I promise to hold
As the story of our affection is about to be told.

I called you beautiful and you said so was I.
I call out to all that is good and right,
A prayer, a wish, a passionate plight,
For you to be mine, in Divine sight,
As this journey begins on a path bright.

I called you beautiful and you said so was l...

As I wake up to you smiling

The smell of your skin, the scent of your hair
Makes me content, as it fills the air
How I long for you, even though you're next to me
The thought of you, relieves my despair
And lends my broken heart to repair,
As I wake up to you smiling.

You blush when I compliment your innocent face.
I revel in your kindness, your humor, your grace.
You brighten my nights, you lighten my days,
By being yourself, so wonderful in your ways,
As I wake up to you smiling.

I do not know what the future holds,
Spring's warmths or winter's colds,
With you by my side, I'll behold,
The tales that are yet to be told,
As I wake up to you smiling.

I seek my happiness within you.

In the quiet of the night, when all is still
My thoughts wonder about my future.

Though middle age is upon me, I still think with youthful fervor of a love I have yet to receive.

I want to find a quiet spot, at the end of the day to put my hat upon.
With you by my side as we talk about the toils of our day.

How sweet and wonderful those thoughts are,
Dreamlike, perhaps they are just that, a dream.

Though I don't know what the future may bring,
Wraths of winter, or bliss of spring,

I will keep seeking my happiness in you.

A snowy friday morning

A snowy Friday morning and I'm sitting on my breakfast table, watching the flakes fall from the nude branches of the elm tree.

The whirl of a distant fan, a gentle din breaking  the silence of an otherwise quiet day.

You rang me just to say hi early in the morning. I couldn't have asked for a more wonderful wakeup call.

In a long time, I am finally at peace within myself. Happy and content, but somewhat afraid that in a flip of a moment, this can all go away. 

But when one has known so many heartaches,  the anticipation of it doesn't phase me anymore.

I know not, how long this will last, but as long as it does, I'm still happy. 

Or So I Thought...

How does the saying go...

Some people come into your life for a reason, some a season, some a lifetime.

However long it was, be thankful for the gifts,

Or so I thought,

You'd be my shield, my sword, my garment.

My friend, my brother, my beloved,

You'd be there in time of my need, in yearnings , in joy and sorrow.

As I was for you,

Or so I thought.

How your words sweet at the time, those smiles sly, full of mischief,

Left to crumbles of lies and deceit, bonds broken, betrayal treasonous.

I saw you again tonight, like two ships in a night passed, I had nothing in my heart for you...

Or so I thought.

Upon my birthday

How soon hath time passed that I miss,
The follies of my once youthful bliss. 

All I have from this point forth to own
The prospects of self created renown

For youth is fleeting but wisdom doth reign
May all my days henceforth blessed remain. 

So Many Things Left Unsaid

As you left me,
I watched you walk
In the gallant way that you always do
steadfast, resolute, firm,

And I was left thinking, yearning for you behind...
So many things left unsaid.

The laughter, the cries, the joys we shared, the sorrows we tried to,
But to no avail.

There are times when my heart weeps for you,
And there are others when the wrathful torments that fill me want to burst out and vent their fury upon you,
But I cannot.

I love you still as I did then
And I always shall...

So many things left unsaid.

The first time we met,
The brilliance of the blue that you wore,
The sparkling of the golden strands of your hair,
In the autumn sun, sublime, so subtle,
pierced my heart by the hazel starbursts in your eyes,
I remember those moments still,
Though they seem now a lifetime ago...

So many things left unsaid.

I started to write a letter to you,
to reclaim my passion for you,
to refrain from my hatred for you,
to remain in my love for you,

Yet, so many things left unsaid.....

Pride

The sea of colors, sights and sounds
Joyful glorious profound
In the meaning of this day I astound
Happy faces abound
Floats and buntings all around
Such is the day of pride I found.

I stood upon a corner side
Watching the worldly splendor go by
On mechanical Steads and ship they ride
In awe in fervor I stride

Though the memory is fresh of the horror
I must resolve to always remember
Those before me and those to come after
And be blessed in this moment forever and ever

For I shall rise a king.

For I shall rise a king, by the nobility of my character,  it's strength and might.
Not by any birthright.

I shall rise a ruler, just and gracious,
Not a wanton sire of lands vast and spacious,
As far as the spread of the light.

I shall accord justice in my dealings
With Prince and pauper alike,
For haughtiness is not in my feelings,
I'll strive to do what is just and right.

I shall hold high, the righteous honor,
of those that strive in their toil and sow,
the seeds of goodness and verity,
and keep the fruits of their labor
with rectitude and pride, and humility.

I write this not as a boastful decree,
but a humble plea, a prayerful verse
to urge my reader to carefully see
that character of goodness makes me
a servant of men, not a master of serfs.

She

The gestures of hands, sultry poses, moving resolutely.

What aura of strength was she, that left me standing humbly.

I watched from the sidelines, incredulously,

Consumed, confounded, amazed,
I kept my gaze upon her face.

Awestruck, seduced, what beauty I witnessed,
She danced all night, with gusto and ire

My advances of romance she dismissed,
With a sly smile, setting my soul on fire.

I stood there, heart in hand, eyes tearful.
Venus personified, wrathful yet beautiful.

All I wanted was a chance to state my plea
And give my heart and soul unto her in glee.

Just as I was in her august presence,
She struck me down with here glare on my insolence.

And said unto these woeful ears, my eyes streaming
"Boy, get to steppin' you must be dreaming"

I turned back with a heavy heart and head in gloom
All the while thinking this is my end, my doom.

Just as I was turning back
She took my hand and stopped me in my track

She said " woo me by showing me your moves
Cuz I ain't down with no goody two shoes"

To which I held her hand and stepped up to dance,
And danced into her heart with my clumsy romance.

The comfort in pretending

I hide in the shadows, playing with illusions, masks and disguises, of my own creation, my Self.

Masquerading,  the comfort in pretending is my succor.  

For i dare not face the reality, 
as it glares me down like the tiger burning bright,
lurking to pounce...
rip me limb from limb,
as I walk through this forest of the night.