In The Heat Of Passion

Over your eyes, mine do scan

Never before has such beauty been seen by man

Entranced forever in a blissful state

Something words could never explain, a beauty so great

That we laugh, we love, then rest

In a quiet secret place, my head rests upon your breast

Fully knowing that you're forever by my side

That alone is enough to conceive boundless pride

No one else I would ever prefer

I'm madly in love with you, for which there is no cure

Alike in mind, our actions are such

We only do too little, for we can never do too much

In the heat of the passion, hearts are confused

Pondering 'Were we so expressively loved, or just used? '

In a world so cruel, innocence is a prey to all

I assure you my stance on it, I shall never let you fall

In Love

To be in love 
Is to touch with a lighter hand. 
In yourself you stretch, you are well. 
You look at things 
Through her eyes. 
A cardinal is red. 
A sky is blue. 
Suddenly you know she didn't know. 
She is not there but 
You know you are tasting together 
The winter, or a light spring weather. 
Her hand to take your hand is overmuch. 
Too much to bear. 
You cannot look in her eyes 
Because your pulse must not say 
What must not be said. 
When she Shuts a door
Is not there
Your arms are water. 
And you are free 
With a ghastly freedom. 
You are the beautiful half 
Of a golden hurt. 
You remember and covet her mouth 
To touch, to whisper on. 
Oh when to declare 
Is certain Death! 
To see fall down, the Column of Gold, Into the commonest ash.

Normality

They say I'm special, they say I'm weird, they call me unique, and yet I cry no tear. For I am on a path, one for all too someday see, a path of normality that will someday be apart of me. But shall I stay this way, am I a monster shall I be, for there are certain parts of me that none shall ever see, the part that is never for anyone to meet. For the real me is strong and my rage is like wheat, thin as a feather, but heavy as a brick, there's only so long until it falls. 
For once it does, Oh God curse that day, for torture am me so I keep my mind at bay. At bay for what is never to be … a monster… a human… a resentful me. For I go day by day with what is call "normality", hoping that every day I live, and die as me. For to be someone else is something other than me, other than normal, a monster I fear of thee. For even if I die today I want all to tell and see, how I am on a path of normality to finally find the True Me. Hiding or exposed I don't care of thee, because now I am set right … now I feel flight … and soon I will bask in the glory of seeing them real me, starting with a path of normality.

true love

Teardrops fall one by one, each tells a story of pain.
You do not know what to do, love has left you again.
You need a love to count on, to be there when you call.
Someone to open their heart to you and catch you when you fall.
You need a true
There when you need her
True love
Never wants to be free.
Hold your hand
console when you hurt
What you need
is true love.
You sit at home all alone, tear stained satin by the phone.
You dream of the day someone will truly care.
There is someone for every lonely man
but love is rare .. a perfect pearl
When its found
it should be treasured for all eternity.
but when i found a true love .. i found you
trying to rise me up
To more than i can be,

أغيبُ وذو اللطائفِ لا يغيبُ

أغيبُ وذو اللطائفِ لا يغيبُ ... و أرجوهُ رجاءً لا يخيبُ
وأسألهُ السلامة َ منْ زمانٍ ... بليتُ بهِ نوائبهْ تشيبُ
وأنزلُ حاجتي في كلِّ حالٍ ... إلى منْ تطمئنُّ بهِ القلوبُ
ولا أرجو سواهُ إذا دهاني ... زمانُ الجورِ والجارُ المريبُ
فكمْ للهِ منْ تدبيرِ أمرٍ ... طوتهُ عنِ المشاهدة ِ الغيوبُ
وكمْ في الغيبِ منْ تيسيرِ عسرٍ ... و منْ تفريجِ نائبة ٍ تنوبُ
ومنْ كرمٍ ومنْ لطفٍ خفيٍّ ... و منْ فرجٍ تزولُ بهِ الكروبُ
و ماليَ غيرُ بابِ اللهِ بابٌ ... و لا مولى سواهُ ولا حبيبُ
كريمٌ منعمٌ برٌّ لطيفٌ ... جميلُ السترِ للداعي مجيبُ
حليمٌ لا يعاجلُ بالخطايا ... رحيمٌ غيثُ رحمتهِ يصوبُ
فيا ملكَ الملوكِ أقلْ عثاري ... فإني عنكَ أنأتني الذنوبُ
و أمرضني الهوى لهوانِ حظي ... ولكنْ ليسَ غيركَ لي طبيبُ
و عاندني الزمانُ وقلَ صبري ... وضاقَ بعبدكَ البلدُ الرحيبُ
فآمنْ روعتي واكبتْ حسوداً ... يعاملني الصداقة َ وهوَ ذيبُ
وعدِّ النائباتِ إلى عدوى ... فانَّ النائباتِ لها نيوبُ
وآنسني بأولادي وأهلي ... فقدْ يستوحشُ الرجلُ الغريبُ
ولي شجنٌ بأطفالٍ صغارٍ ... أكادُ إذا ذكرتهمُ أذوبُ
ولكني نبذتُ زمامَ أمري ... لمنْ تدبيرهُ فينا عجيبُ
هو الرحمنُ حولي واعتصامي ... بهِ وإليهِ مبتهلاً أنيبُ
إلهي أنتَ تعلمُ كيفَ حالي ... فهلْ يا سيدي فرجٌ قريبُ
و كم متملقٍ يخفي عنادي ... وأنتَ على سريرتهِ رقيبُ
و حافرِ حفرة ٍ لي هارفيها ... وسهمُ البغى يدري منْ يصيبُ
و ممتنعِ القوى مستضعفٍ لي ... قصمتَ قواهُ عني ياحسيبُ
و ذي عصبية ٍ بالمكرِ يسعى ... إلى َّ سعى بهِ يومٌ عصيبٌ
فيا ديانَ يومِ الدينِ فرجْ ... هموماً في الفؤادِ لها دبيبُ
وصلْ حبلي بحبلِ رضاكَوانظرْ ... إلى َّ وتبْ على َّ عسى أنوبُ
وراعي حمايتي وتولى نصري ... وشدَّ عرايَّ إن عرتِ الخطوبُ
وأفنِ عدايَ واقرن نجم حظي ... بسعدٍ ما لطالعهِ غروبُ
وألهمني لذكركَ طولَ عمري ... فإنَ بذكركَ الدنيا تطيبُ
وقلْ عبدُ الرحيمِ ومنْ يليهِ ... لهمْ في ريفِ رأفتنا نصيبُ
فظني فيكَ يا سيدي جميلٌ ... و مرعى ذودُ آمالي خصيبُ
وصلِّ على النبيِّ وآلهِ ما ... ترنمَ في الأراكِ العندليبِ

White Diamonds

Do not stand at my grave and weep 
I am not there. I do not sleep. 
I am a thousand winds that blow. 
I am the white diamond glints on snow. 
I am the sunlight on ripened grain. 
I am the gentle autumn rain. 
When you awaken in the morning's hush 
I am the swift uplifting rush of quiet birds in circled flight. 
I am the soft stars that shine at night. 
Do not stand at my grave and cry; I am not there. I am not there. 

Are We Human

Evil and darkness overtake

A secret, a black filled soul

Shadows bend, To twist? To make? 

A single tear, to wither and brake

The moon, The night, The stars will call

Are we human after all .... 

I dreamed a dream

Hold fast to dreams, For if dreams die
life is a broken winged bird, ... That cannot fly.
Hold fast to dreams, For when dreams go
Life is a barren field, ... Frozen with snow. 

There was a time when men were kind
When their voices were soft
And their words inviting.
There was a time when love was blind
And the world was a song
And the song was exciting.
There was a time ...then it all went wrong...
I dreamed a dream in time gone by
When hopes were high and life worth living,
I dreamed that love would never die
I dreamed that God would be forgiving.
Then I was young and unafraid,
When dreams were made and used and wasted.
There was no ransom to be paid,
No song unsung, no wine untasted.
But the tigers come at night,
With their voices soft as thunder,
As they tear your hope apart
As they turn your dreams to shame
He slept a summer by my side.
He filled my days with endless wonder,
He took my childhood in his stride,
But he was gone when autumn came.
And still I dream he'll come to me
And we will live the years together!
But there are dreams that cannot be
And there are storms we cannot weather.
I had a dream my life would be
So different from this hell I'm living
So different now from what it seemed
Now life has killed the dream
I dreamed. 

Within a dream.

Take this kiss upon the brow!

And, in parting from you now,

Thus much let me avow-

You are not wrong, who deem

That my days have been a dream;

Yet if hope has flown away

In a night, or in a day,

In a vision, or in none,

Is it therefore the less gone?

All that we see or seem

Is but a dream within a dream.

I stand amid the roar
Of a surf-tormented shore,
And I hold within my hand
Grains of the golden sand-
How few! yet how they creep
Through my fingers to the deep,
While I weep  while I weep!
O God! can I not grasp
Them with a tighter clasp?
O God! can I not save
One from the pitiless wave?
Is all that we see or seem
But a dream within a dream? 

without leaving mine.

I want you to know one thing. You know how this is: if I look at the crystal moon, at the red branch of the slow autumn at my window, if I touch near the fire the impalpable ash or the wrinkled body of the log, everything carries me to you, as if everything that exists, aromas, light, metals, were little boats that sail toward those isles of yours that wait for me. Well, now, if little by little you stop loving me I shall stop loving you little by little. If suddenly you forget me do not look for me, for I shall already have forgotten you. If you think it long and mad, the wind of banners that passes through my life and you decide to leave me at the shore of the heart where I have roots, remember that on that day, at that hour, I shall lift my arms and my roots will set off to seek another land. But if each day, each hour, you feel that you are destined for me with implacable sweetness, if each day a flower climbs up to your lips to seek me, ah my love, ah my own, in me all that fire is repeated, in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten, my love feeds on your love, beloved, and as long as you live it will be in your arms without leaving mine.

I'll rise again

You may write me down in history

With your bitter, twisted lies,

You may trod me in the very dirt

But still, like dust, I'll rise.

Does my hopelessness upset you?

Why are you beset with gloom?

'Cause I walk like I've got oil wells

Pumping in my living room.

Just like moons and like suns, 

With the certainty of tides,

Just like hopes springing high, Still I'll rise.

Did you want to see me broken?

Bowed head and lowered eyes?

Shoulders falling down like teardrops.

Weakened by my soulful cries.

Does my haughtiness offend you?

Don't you take it awful hard

'Cause I laugh like I've got gold mines

Digg in' in my Station back yard.

You may shoot me with your words,

You may cut me with your eyes,

You may kill me with your hatefulness,

But still, like air, I'll rise.

Out of the huts of history's shame .. I rise

Up from a past that's rooted in pain .. I rise

I'm a black ocean, leaping and wide, Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.

Leaving behind nights of terror and fear .. I rise

Into a daybreak that's wondrously clear .. I rise

Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave, I am the dream and the hope of the slave.

I rise, .... I rise, ... I rise. 

Stop cry, i do

I stand there, alone

with the roses in my hand

Like a child i smiled and cried

How difficult to say goodbye

I rather say Hi without any reply

Than accept your bye

I stand there by your side

On your quiet land

The roof of your hidden room

In marked ground by your name

I stand there, alone

tried to remember your face

Because i cant wake you from sleep

Talking how miss time we had

I m sorry for not being there

I stand there, alone

The clouds turn gloomy dark

But i have darker tears

My Morning rain

Pouring in pain 

Dropped

Fallen

Stained

on your bed

I stand there, close to you

A little smile on my face

Thinking you're free, finished the race

from cruel world tricky maze

The past worries flew

Holding faith warm

Now no more harm

To blink your mind

In this wood chamber

Sleep well my dear

Sleep by the underground arm

Laying roses for you

wont cry forever for you

My tears gone dried to cry

My prayers never let you alone

Company your days in woody home

Take all our times together with you

Will keep you alive in my breathe

Each breathe i breathing with you

Keeps us together

Till i hold my last breathe

Here, witnessed by whom read this

You've met your destiny

Walk through mystery gateway

The door of eternity to a new life

The real world is just began

Soon I will come for you

Stop cry, i do

Time run fast and still running

Be near to you

I am coming for You

Night comes again

When the golden light leaving the sky
Follow the sun, to the west hills it flies
Flying birds now return, reach home again
Slowly the shadow comes, kiss over the land
Shades of night
Blanket all in the dark 
So your eyes, closed for light
Don't give up or tired by today's fears
By my palm touch you softly with prayers
Leave your worry to sleep well, goodnight, dear
O Night comes again, 
Warrior of nights present with delightful smiles
Radiant spherical resonance glows you from miles
Lunar whispers in lullaby,trade your sad with happiness
Protect you from dark, shield in armor, made of light
Goodnight, sleep tight, no danger dares to you tonight
This supreme night
Pillow your mind with bubble dreams
Go high and absorb the moonlight beam
To lullaby you with a sweet dream story
Before come tomorrow rise with sun glory
And run and forget yesterday for new history
O Night comes again
Sparkling in the air, like fairies dancing in the sky
Scattering stars exist at night and gone in daylight
Their shadows in your eyes, blanket you warm in bravery
Remind you 'In the dark, a faint light bolder as brightest spark'
'Find bright in destiny, night help you search for purely'
Be brave always may tonight you gain spirit, and be free 
Don't sad if today breaks your heart
Release your mind, calm soul to back home
Next day will be another day, a new start
Wonderful life will come and past just gone
Ease your worry, come sleep, close your eyes
Just dream sweet, sleep well and goodnight

So happy to see you smile, 
Could be today life you enjoy so much
Still a lot surprises to discover tomorrow
But now Sleep well smile bright and goodnight
Tuck in patient, waiting for new day
Shades of night
Blanket all in the dark 
When the sun falling down
Nothing to lose in dark 
But to find strength without light
From east sun reborn, the end of night 
And run again for new life, make true your dream
Flying with the birds from nest and discover the day rest
Whispers will no end, my wish will reach you wherever you are
Because the night in every second, to remind the night walker
Where moon just come and comfort you anytime you want
For day will come, 
Till the light bring golden ray in warm
Let moonlight embrace you in night arm
Be with you, keep warm on your side
Before tomorrow good night, sleep sweet tonight
Sleep dear, dream high and smile as moon give to borrow

i wished you goodnight ..!!

Even day lose it bright sun, but not mean dark with moon is to cry, so dropp your sorrow, leave your worry because, in dark
there's a hint to rise again, to rest from all pains, to see another side of spirit that we neglected in daylight...this come with melody of lullaby .. if we lose in dark, keep believe there's a best way to give us the best things about life...it's a breakthrough method to find success as sometimes we never meet a big success before we meet big failure or dark ..
Bring it positive,  and like in our day, night also will go and sun will rise again so, the new day comes for new start...to make dream to be true where past nightmare it just nothing to scare..
So take care, Goodnight and sleep tight wherever you are
because every second, there's a place meet dark...by bright! 

The Clarity

Sometimes the clarity comes too late, to realize there was never any need for forgiveness and nothing to expiate
About the way we made our gracious farewells into works of art that would go on hurting forever. 
We had a genius back then for making death seem more beautiful than it is because we lived on the edge of things 
and not their surfaces and o if we'd only felt all those things 
that made us weep at the end 
Dying in doorways that were more cruel than any threshold we had to cross to stand there.
If only we could have felt those immensity of goodbye from the very beginning ...
what reason would we have had to cry like candles, when the wine turned back into water and the roses wiped their lipstick off on their leaves ..? 
One goes out. One goes in.
Because severance, no less than the dance takes two to make a difference and as the years go by the silver flakes off the memory of the mirror and you can see clear through to the other side .. experience is just another log you throw on the stars to keep yourself warm on a cold winter night .. by a small fire out in the open, where it's easier to sublimate 
the intensities of fate by opening the cages you keep them in
and burning your love feelings, 
like the flightfeathers of half forgotten songs,
to spread their wings in the flames
and give them the freedom to rise higher than the nest of ashes they were born in.
History isn't the muse the immeasurable mystery is and if you don't learn to let things go .. you'll never know 
how to live lyrically alone in the wild unbounded by your solitude by the side of a river whose flowers are dying. 
The green bough hisses and blisters in the fire .. but the cracks in the heartwood burn far into the night and give off way more heat in the autumn than the preemptive lightning strikes of spring. 
It's a rite of passage as old as migrating geese .. mournfully bearing souls south, whose bones have turned to dust 
to take all my prophetic skulls like moon rocks out of the house of the dead and arranging them into the ring of a firepit stand in the middle like the eternal flame of an unrepentant heretic to rekindle the dance, even among the skeletal shadows of a persecuted romance. 
Even in sorrow. 
Even in the silence of the great distances 
that add their aerial perspective to time.
Not to call ghosts back to a seance as if they could tell me anymore about death than I've already lived through 
but every year at the second full moon in October 
after the harvest is in and the scarecrow has come down off my cross 
and left it to the ravens of nevermore as a church
I stretch my heart out like a skin on a drum. 
Dressed in the plumage of solar flares
I enter a trance of firebirds that have long since disappeared back into the sun and like Icarus in eclipse or the last grasshopper who didn't take the advice of the ants to drag the leaves and wings of things piecemeal into a shelter to prepare for deeper separations yet to come.
I take my chances by the hand out here in the open and I dance. 
I dance with heresy. 
I dance with the angels and the demons that were martyred in the name of what is unforgiveable about my human nature 
and yet more sacred than the rain I dance for to put the war I dance for out.
I dance with whole asylums of noetic visionaries who went insane trying to explain me to myself like the origins of life on another planet.
And I dance again to the music of the women I've loved 
whether in pain or bliss 
whether I was hung by the tail 
like a plague rat over the abyss of my cannibalized emotions
like a famished snakepit or I fell sidereally under the spell of the fragrance of summer stars in their hair 
I dance not as if it were all worth it in the end but something inestimable to celebrate that gives the chartered undertakers pause about what they do for a living when they see how a poet can dance to the picture music of the crazy wisdom
that sings the dead up out of the earth to their feet 
without looking down from the mountaintops or back at the valleys behind ... 
to take the measure of their heart
to see if it's empty or full. 
I let the new moon feel the old moon's arms around it again
like the bright vacancy and dark abundance of what's joyfully absurd and playful about life whether it's doing a sword dance with words or dancing in blue heron feathers like a shaman among waterbirds longing for enlightenment like a tantric star map to break the jinx of their prayer wheels.
Or dancing to bullets like a greenhorn in the main street of nineteenth century .. or like me out here in the desert dark 
alone with six thousand visible stars eleven miles outside of Westport spreading my wings under the sign of the Eagle and the Scorpion going down in the west
to add my phoenix to the feathers of the burning sumac and grabbing the lightning lance of the thunderbirds 
like a serpent from their talons hold it up to the stars to the east and the west, like the wavelength of a crazy insight 
into the dark word of the living light that makes me dance my way ..
out of time 
out of place 
out of my mind 
without leaving anyone or anything behind.
Canto Della Terra

Under the dragon's wings

Sitting in the dark 
being who I am by acclamation. 
The solitude half memory, half exorcism. 
No one else ran for the position 
so I've settled on trying to live up empathetically 
to this person that's tried for so long to be me. 
The sound of the occasional car on Highway
in the deep of the desert six miles away 
puts its hand over its mouth.
Everything's a secret at this time of the night. 
And it occurs to me 
I've always been a stranger to myself.
The enigma in the doorway across the street.
My windows. My keys. My locks. even my old car
But always looking up at my own place 
as if someone else lived there instead of me.
A man with no return address on his homelessness. 
As if I were always catching a glimpse of myself 
going around the next corner 
and I'm the tail I'm trying to lose.
Or giving the occasional mirror 
caught totally off guard 
cold chills in passing 
like a ghost with unknown enterprises of its own.
My freedom enclosed 
within the sum of its limits 
I live in an elsewhere zone 
where the mystery of what I'm doing here 
goes to extremes 
like a tent city outside 
the vacancy of an unoccupied metropolis
of anti-social landlords
to prove I have a right 
to the portable threshold of my homelessness. 
I'm beached like a birch bark canoe
that isn't going anywhere 
on the shoals of my stream of consciousness
trying to figure out who's doing the saying 
and who's doing the listening.
Though most people think 
one is the spitting image of the other's reflection 
verbal expression is not thought
and you can't hear it before you say it.
Even too late for the drunks to be out 
I like the way the half-hearted moonlight 
interprets my face through its fingertips
as if I were having my portrait done in braille. 
What could that look like 
when you've connected all the dots 
if not an eclipse or a new moon? 
Take your pick.
And I may be somewhat out of touch 
with how dark things have become 
but I know this much 
this much at least I know.
Worse than despair .. more than your depressed 
is learning how not to care. 
I mean what have you got left 
when all's been said and done and gone 
if not for a few old reflexive delusions 
in a holy war of tribal mirages 
that have made a habit of your heart
just as drugs become the cosmology of junkies.
It's no more absurd 
to be left standing like an echo in a doorway 
long after the house has been torn down 
than it is to paint realistic watercolours in the rain
en plein air.
I thought I had a message once 
worthy of descending doves.
I could feel the wind under the dragon's wings 
open like the firedoor to a furnace full of prophets.
And the words were mine true enough
until I realized how much life like art 
is totally plagiarized from the medium it creates in
and how imperative it was 
to be reborn from your mother-tongue 
like a whole new language of evolving memes
if you want to be taken at your word 
even in hell as in heaven 
you know how to speak for yourself 
without resorting to paracletes 
even when you're persuasively certain 
no one can understand you,
Every word might contain a dead metaphor 
but when mine aren't demonically possessed
and speaking in tongues 
they're buzzing around the azaleas 
like hummingbirds and bees 
sipping black kool-aid in Jonestown. 
I start out writing like a new moon 
but by the time it's done with me 
I'm a total eclipse in an ink pot, 
indelibly. 
That's why I'm sitting here in the dark
trying not to adulterate the light 
with cosmic thoughts of all night streetlamps 
in an empty parking lot 
where everyone overpays a price
for their little square of time and space. 
I've got a digital alarm clock 
with three and a half numbers that glow in the dark 
like an informant trying to warn me 
before it's way too late for all of us 
to adjust my time-zone and dial it back.
To when? 
To when it was a better world? 
To when I was a better man? 
To the last chance I had to become one? 

Kingdom of the wind

Why does a humming bee
Secret the words
That we decline to trust
Why does he understand
The fledgling world; 
That we commend to dust.Is there not a flower
In the desert sand; 
That hasn't heard the hum
Is there not a bee on earth? 
Whose kingdom of the wind, 
Hasn't arisen from the sun: 

Throughout eternity

I'd rather have the thought of you 
To hold against my heart, 
My spirit to be taught of you 
With west winds blowing, 
Than all the warm caresses 
Of another love's bestowing, 
Or all the glories of the world 
In which you had no part. 
I'd rather have the theme of you 
To thread my nights and days, 
I'd rather have the dream of you 
With faint stars glowing, 
I'd rather have the want of you, 
Forever and forever and forever unconfessed 
Than claim the alien comfort 
Of any other's breast. 
That this should come to me! 
I'd rather have the hope of you, 
OH, I'd rather grope for you 
Within the great abyss 
Than claim another's kiss Alone 
I'd rather go my way 
Throughout eternity.

Goodbye

I've been loving you for so long
I've been dreaming of you all night long
I keep telling myself some other time
Maybe you will be mine
I keep asking myself why
Just because of this damn love I cry
And now I have to let you fly
Even if it means I'm going to die
I love you that's true
I want to be with you yes I do
I want to feel being loved by you
But that's just a dream that wont come true
Now my love it's time to say goodbye
I promise you will never see me cry
But before I let you go
I just want to say I love you so..

Time To say Goodbye