POEM: Weekend of 2018

Weekend of 2018
...
Yes, it's real
It's the last weekend of the year
When next week is here
This weekend will exist no longer.

Cherish them while they last
Seize them with a blast
Treasure them when they past.

Put away your sorrow
Celebrate and bring the glow
Leave those that put you at your low
For you will never know
If you will be there for tomorrow.

Establish the new you resolutions
Aim to bring the revolution
For this is not just an hallucination
Gather your strength, be the inspiration
For one to be the evolution
One should appreciate their own provision.

          - says ع- 

Poem: Bond

woman carrying baby near man

As I grow up, 
I learned. 
Family ties sometimes loosen up, 
Not as tight as I thought the bond bounded.
Sometimes, either you or them, 
Decided to just abandoned. 
For the choice of your love route’s hem,
Was not in their listed branded.

That bond,
once was so fond, 
collapse way beyond, 
when I abscond,
not with their favourable beau monde
instead, that furibond lone.

And so, 
I learned,
As I grow up.
Bond are not blood-defined, 
Instead those who hold you up, 
Just so you don’t fall.
Bond are not blood-related, 
Instead those who stretch you up,
And support your choice once and for all.

Bond are those accepting you, 
and the choice you choose.

– ع says – 26.12.18 –

POEM: Home

Image result for home heart

Home,
The place I would always miss;
The haven that will always be bliss;
The retreat I share my perfect kiss;
The hideout that sync with my kinesis;
The abode that far away from the dark abyss;
The ground filled with love oasis.
Home, 
No matter how far you roam;
You’ll come back for your comb;
To loosen the boiling blood loam;
And just like a healing syndrome;
It takes away the ohm;
Replace the resistance with honeycomb.
Home,
Just where the space in their heart,
Perfectly reserved for you when you are apart;
So stretch your stress away, 
dump you hatred elsewhere, 
and stay, just stay.

– ع says – 25.12.18 –

Poem: Love

Love

Love is addictive,
An unavoidable disease,
A compelling incentive,
Yet a detrimental consequences;

Love is the air, 
For the heart to care,
For the mind to bear,
Yet it hurts here and there;

Love is a crave,
Making you the slave,
No matter how strong and brave,
Yet end up with you digging your own grave;

Watch out little girl, 
It’s speechlessly pretty like the pearl,
Yet it makes your world twirl;

Be careful young man, 
She will be you number one fan, 
Yet don’t take her for leisure just because you can.

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-ع says -22.12.18 –

Poem: Resting from Love

My love never got expired,
But at times I got tired,
Being bombarded with hatred,
Even it wasn’t me that you hated,
It was me that got affected;

Yes, life is not supposed to be fair,
Some find comfort, some thrown into despair,
Cherished when love is in the air,
And be strong during those trivial affair;

The storm stop screaming and the rainbow shines,
The droughts won’t be long and the rain will show its sign,
The flood would soon leave and the ocean will realign,
It’s true, in every cloud there’s a silver lining,
The sun will always be there, and so the sea and the dun.

Image may contain: one or more people and text

-ع says – 23.12.18 –

Poem: 3a.m.

Being deprived from it is not a privilege, 
Its has been weeks accompanied by graven image,
This has to stop, it’s not a scrimmage!

I just hope this would end,
The mind would just stop apprehend,
Yet here I am, trying hard to comprehend!

When will this stop?
Where will this lead?
What will this get?
Why will this stay?
How will this understand?

O please, I need a head, 
just to nod at me,
assuring, things will turn up fine when you open your eyes, the next morning!
For now, sleep!

– ع says – 20.12.18 –

Poem: Beach

Beach

when it promises peacefulness, 
i found loneliness;
when it promotes calmness, 
i hear struggles;
when it prompts freedom, 
i see a soul locked with troubles;

how deceiving one could be,
by the widespread blueprint, 
by the white sandy beach,
by the fluffy clear sky;

nope, 
the beach doesn’t lie,
the ocean isn’t dry,
the sky still there, up high;
it’s just an internal battle,
between the senses, the heart and the mind.

– ع says – 15.12.18 –

Poem: ‘Wherefore art thou, people?’

‘Wherefore art thou, people?’

you decide not to change,
and befalls strike again;
you not taking the blame,
oh no, that’s so lame!
how can you expect people to be kind,
when you yourself are intertwine,
between imagination and reality,
when awake, you are just sorry;
you know it’s not fair,
best is just to not care;
at least you can just ignore,
hoping in times, others can just let go;
if only you understand, 
playing victim is just not my game!

– ع says – 11.12.18 –