Last Viewed Ghazal Poems (66)

When the Rain falls
my thoughts of you come to view
the rain reminds me of my tear drops
like heaven's crying too
I miss the tender words you say
that made my heart ring
and took my breath away
I feel your passion and love
that helps me pull through
I know we'll be together again one day
I can feel it in my heart

Banners blow while a silken flag waves
both signifying a country gone awry
men dig ever more six foot deep graves
as I stand aside and ponder why

American flags must surely be costly
what with all that red, white and blue material
while the deaths of countless soldiers seems immaterial to the Commander In Chief
who seems chiefly unconcerned about supplying armor for vehicles who drive directly over destruction
occupied by occupants who occasionally incur a blur from the desert sand and significant insanity in a land of lamentable leaders bent on brutality
as I become buried ever deeper in compassion bemoaning every unneccessary casualty of a war wrought and fought in futility

as corpses continue to constitute the inconsistency of combat-----
for instance Corporal Carl Conway who died trying to liberate a country inhabited by an alliance who owe their allegiance to Allah
and believe in what might as well be a cookbook they call the Koran--
man, they may as well adhere to to the doctrine of Duran Duran and dance
per chance

So i have what may be a superlative idea indeed
take all the silk they use for the red, white and blue
and instead of causing casualties of battle to bleed
sell all the silk for armor and armaments our heroes are so aptly due
(c) 2011....~free cee!~

IF IT’S DAWN IT’S TIME FOR ME TO YAWN AND MOURN


Heed not these words which utter I
I of foolishness born
Hush to the truth I cannot deny
Because i was birthed only to mourn

I mourn the loss of yesterday
When doors needn’t be locked
A kid could go outside to play
if a visitor came all they did was knocked

I mourn the loss of my friend’s best friend
That is a young man no one should ignore
Despite the fact that he knew it could mean his end
Yet and still the young man took off for war

I mourn for the way the oceans are mistreated and taken advantage of
I mourn for each death, each injury, each disease and I mourn the death for love

The litany of items on my list of complaints is way to long to mention
And I am still mulling over whether or not I should add an extention
I feel as if I were a lamb being tortured and shorn
And the truth is I was solely born to mourn
© 2011.….Phreepoetree ~free cee!~

I tried to describe my beloved but I couldn't

My tongue was silent and unable to speak
My pen began to write the sweetest words
He wrote it in describing my love for a girl
You entered my heart and resided in it
A girl with very feminine features
Her hair was so black, it took its color from the darkness of the night
Her wide eyes and her pain took away the beauty of her eyes
Her cheerful spirit was as if the joy had been taken from her smile
Suddenly my pen stopped moving forward
He is passionate about describing her goodness and beauty
Apparently he had never seen someone more beautiful than her
My thoughts were confused with him
Because if we describe one thing, we are confused about describing the beauty of the other thing
When we describe the eyes, we are confused in describing the extremely wonderful facial features
I tried and tried and tried
So I closed my eyes so that I could remember or recall even a little bit
I tried in vain and all my attempts failed
Gentlemen, I will tell you how much I love her
I will tell you what it is for me
She is to me what the soul is to the body
She is to me like the air I breathe
To me it is as the eyes need to see
Humans also need food
The writer also needs his pen.
Just as the thinker needs his thoughts
I think I'm exaggerating how much I love her
Or do you think I am negligent in everything I said?
I will scream to the crowd that I love her
My beloved, a rose among the wonderfully beautiful roses
My dear Nasma Rabie
I was confused to describe it
My mind is paralyzed and my words have stopped because I seem to be stunned.
He was amazed by the beauty of that face, which looked like the full moon on a full moon night
Lost among all those imaginary features
My love, forgive me if the words in your description failed me.
My love, excuse my modesty in expressing my feelings
My love, excuse me
Excuse me........... Excuse me. My question remains for her

How do I tell her.......she has become my whole little world
How do I tell her.......that in her words I soar and fly?
How do I tell her? Her words perfume me like perfume.
How do I tell her? When she speaks to me, my words disappear and thoughts fly away.
How do I tell her? She has become one of my dangerous secrets
How do I tell her? She is a candle that lights up every moment of my life
Then she asked me the reason for my long silence with her
Should I tell her that I envy myself and my soul every moment I hear her?
Or what

A special world for you and me
A special bond one cannot see
It wraps us up in its cocoon
And holds us fiercely in its womb.

Its fingers spread like fine spun gold
Gently nestling us to the fold
Like silken thread it holds us fast
Bonds like this are meant to last.

And though at times a thread may break
A new one forms in its wake
To bind us closer and keep us strong
In a special world, where we belong.

Should I drop u a note
naturally, l am eating alone
waiting on a bowl of gumbo.
Ur a no-show
screwing in the shadows
likely doing the three famous maestros
Larry, Curly, and I hope
U choke
on Moe.
I'm sorry but feeling pretty low
I'm losing my Piedmont pillow
I remember u long ago
u tried to corner the market playing the blues on a banjo
Made sense maybe since lock-in a cellar sits a dusty jazz piano
Then lockjaw denies u fame and fortune blowing
the piccolo
always known for ur solos
this was before wearing out ur welcome on the cello,
Started as a joke
writing "Ode
to The Twilight Zone"
staring the fallen saint, Billie Joe
the story goes
before fleeing on rails like a hobo
down Mt. Kilimanjaro
she had an episode
losing her halo
slipping from her dome
while dipping her bent toe
into the dark cosmos
but caught the eye of fire breathing hippo
in mid-pounce feasting on a giant translucent minnow.
yet the halo plunged like an oscillating dildo
topping the speed of light (what did Einstein know),
when heading for ground zero
but caught on film in slow-mo.
Oddly snatched up by a swooping sparrow,
but dropped like a dirty ho
on seeing a dancing scarecrow
doing the tango
with a Hispanic hallucinating gringo.
Never scare off any black feather bedfellows
Each of them has a mind of their own
Scavengers are at home
grilling up some squirming lizard toads.
on the sunbaked back roads,
like on US 95 thru Mosco
not in Russia but Idaho
and yet the halo continued to roll
for years though God only knows
till it finally landed in Chicago
on the Antiques Roadshow
shown off by an old crone
or was it Saint Billie Joe
incognito
sporting a big nose
who lived alone
making a cameo?
Drooling over its host
a fat sweaty long fellow
who smelled like pork roast.
Sampled his ear lobe
on milk buttered toast
out doing Van Gogh
mesmerized by horizons aglow
but tripping on too much ginkgo.
Anyway, my hat off to those
poor blokes,
seeing nothing that doesn't show
dreaming of giving up the ghost
depending on the cash flow
soon on the back of an icy slope
surfing down the hills of Glasgow
yet these days at end of their rope
with necktie yokes
now a foot off the flo,
swinging low
to the tune of Desperado
fading in/out on solid-state radio.
Again, the Silent Telephone
landmines another mofo!

Your radiance is brilliant
But it warms instead of blinds.
Your wit and wisdom sparkles
Strumming chords in clever minds.

Your heart an endless fountain
Pouring love to all who thirst.
When a helping hand is needed,
It is you who offers first.

You cultivate what's good in life
And good in other souls.
And never are you daunted
By those with less noble goals.

Black clouds may form and rumble
And their darkness may hold sway
But dark clouds can't long prevail
Light will always win the day.

It's light that life requires
For it cannot thrive in dark.
And you inspire those around you
When they see your divine spark.

Hey, here Winebringer, circulate, offer the cup this way;
For love at first seemed easy, now problems come to stay.

Finally breeze sent muskpod's scent from that forehead:
Its twist Of musky hair makes blood clot our hearts today.

Can wayfarers stay happy and secure in Beloved's house,
When suddenly the bell clangs to: "Lift your load! Away!"

With wine dye your prayer-mat if the Master commands;
This experienced traveller has understanding of the way.

The dark night and terrifying wave and fierce whirlpool:
Do those light of burden on shore know where we stay?

By acting upon my own desires I ruined my reputation:
Can the secret stay that way when crowds tell it all day?

Hafiz, if you desire the Divine Presence, do not be absent:
When you visit your Beloved: "Farewell" to the world say.

snowy days winters cold
frost bite in my toes cold noses
hands are chilled
down to my fingers and toes

cold am i playing in the snow
snow balls we are makeing having fun, snow ball fights in the snow
snow men, where making
sticks for arms carrot for a nose, my old scarf
buttons for ies so he can see

rolling about in the snow
sliding on sledges having fun
up and down the hill we go
on are slay having so much fun

frost bitten we dont care where having so much fun sliding on are crispy snow
sliding down the mountain top throwing snow balls as we go
standing on skis oops down we go over the hill, down the hill we all go

If anyone asks you
how the perfect satisfaction
of all our s*xual wanting
will look, lift your face
and say,

Like this.

When someone mentions the gracefulness
of the nightsky, climb up on the roof
and dance and say,

Like this.

If anyone wants to know what "spirit" is,
or what "God’s fragrance" means,
lean your head toward him or her.
Keep your face there close.

Like this.

When someone quotes the old poetic image
about clouds gradually uncovering the moon,
slowly loosen knot by knot the strings
of your robe.

Like this.

If anyone wonders how Jesus raised the dead,
don’t try to explain the miracle.
Kiss me on the lips.

Like this. Like this.

When someone asks what it means
to "die for love," point
here.

If someone asks how tall I am, frown
and measure with your fingers the space
between the creases on your forehead.

This tall.

The soul sometimes leaves the body, the returns.
When someone doesn’t believe that,
walk back into my house.

Like this.

When lovers moan,
they’re telling our story.

Like this.

I am a sky where spirits live.
Stare into this deepening blue,
while the breeze says a secret.

Like this.

When someone asks what there is to do,
light the candle in his hand.

Like this.

How did Joseph’s scent come to Jacob?

Huuuuu.

How did Jacob’s sight return?

Huuuu.

A little wind cleans the eyes.

Like this.

When Shams comes back from Tabriz,
he’ll put just his head around the edge
of the door to surprise us

Like this.