Who is to say?
Of the words I may,
Use one day
To perhaps convey,
The wishes of my broken heart.
That in dismay,
Hoping for the sun's ray,
I keep waiting in the bay,
And if heaven hears me pray,
To mend my broken heart.
That in utter disarray,
Others have to pay,
The price for me to stay,
Waiting for me to pick up one day,
The pieces of my broken heart.
A picture is always complete,
In its depiction and honesty,
Its us who fails to grasp,
The meaning and sincerity,
That lies in the Abyss of love
About the Creator
Syed Arabi Khalique
I am a guy from Jersey who is trying to put down in words what nightmares afflict him, hoping that will somewhat sweeten the deadly ordeal.
Keep reading
More stories from Syed Arabi Khalique and writers in Poets and other communities.
A Flower Song
Apparently the Aztecs, Toltecs, Chichimecs and other Mexica were crazy about poetry. Despite the book-burning, slaughter, and epidemics that characterized the early stages of the Spanish conquest of the empires of Mexico, some hundreds of poems from the height of their tradition come down to us in Classical Nahuatl, preserved by Nahua and Spanish scholars of the 16th century. One of the most famous poets, Nezahualcoyotl, was a sage-king who opposed the cult of human sacrifice associated with Tezcatlipoca, God of the Smoking Mirror, and favored Quetzalcoatl, the Feathered Serpent. Flowers and feathers were the favorite offering of the Plumed Serpent. Moreover, flowers and feathers are a metaphor for poetry. Individual words, scattered petals, the down of tropical birds. The temples of blood sacrifice could be transformed into temples of flower and song. A sublimated offering to the Heart of Earth and the Heart of Sky encapsulated in the Classical Nahuatl kenning for poetry: in xōchitl in cuīcatl, meaning, "the flower and the song." The following poem is part of a longer work, and is in a state of flux, so take the waters as they flow:
By Rob Angeli3 days ago in Poets
Standing Still
There are very few moments in life where time truly stands still. When your breath is taken from your chest and your body hangs weightless in that moment. Just long enough for it to stay with you from that day onwards. Deep in the red sands of the Australian Outback, I found that moment and clung to it forever.
By Kevin McLaughlin3 days ago in Wander
Comments (3)
A sincere, sweet poem.
Great poem!
Good Fantastic