Forever Sonnets (Poetry Blog)

My mother told me: “always speak the truth” As a little boy, I joined a caravan of camels To devote my bloom of youth to travel. While our flock was halfway to Basra; A band of raiders halted the caravan herd, Nearer an oasis known as the shazdeh. They didn't grant the merchant's request to carry on, And there was rough, tumble and crosstalk. Later on, some snatchers turn towards me, I said: "I have got a hundred dinars in my wallet" But they didn't repress me, they  merely said, "Why did you speak the truth?  wow, I said With my trembling lips, ''my mother  Taught me to always speak the truth." Then the raptors fell to their knees some ran,  Some wept, and some followed me, and I said: "O, make a league with the Lord, please" They replied, "let's walk to the shade  Of the palm trees where the light resides" ©Affaq Naibe

               Sometimes in the  moroseness of love               I wandered quite far and with regrets I sang.               Sometimes I slept on shore of springs,                 And doom myself for your love's and thirst.                Sometimes on the heroic brooks I hung upon,                 To meet my fondness and preference.               Sometimes on my hut cottage I laid my head,                And counted the...

Alondra, alondra, O sweet alondra of dawn, Look at, pearly dew on the castle walls. And snowy hills lull the silence in their arms, And first light shakes the sky-blue lakes. And the valley doves leap in the willow shades. Alondra, alondra, O sweet alondra fly high side by  Spring winds, rain clouds and yellow haze; Go on flying in range of vision, sing hymns. Forward to Kind Angels our echo songs  Our hamlet's are ruined, see with your eyes. The unknown dangers, the yellow sun roars; Our time has arrived, we become cowards. Alondra, alondra, O sweet alondra,  How fast flying you are, over the bridges  Of ezman in soft lighting, O airman  Of the heaven, wondrous they are in hundreds, I heard the verse says: "where none realms,  There the angels play the muffled drums. Some lay in prayers on the coloured rugs,  And where the trouble never comes.  Alondra, alondra O sweet alondra  fly fly, high Side by merry winds and bring do...

With whom shall I present this  bouquet of loveliness? To whom shall I present these leafy longings?  May someone come to me in the form of a friend? With whom shall I render this souvenir of songs? My lyrics, you alone tell me with whom shall I share, these puzzles and riddles concealed in my  Consciousness, may someone attend my journey? With whom shall I share this hugger-mugger Laying below my tender lips,  with whom shall  I render these burning feelings, emotions, and Aspirations, may someone sign my plea? May someone enter mine heart for a moment? I address it quite meekly, and it's mine psyche, There is no haste, therefore decide wisely. ---- Affaq Naibe   © 2012 

WINGS On wings of Memories ... As gentle as a Butterflies Flight... Floating in a misty Fragrance... A feathery touch Opens minds Flow ... Sunshine tears of Smiles... Reminiscence where Rainbows caressed the Sky... Soul depth... Clicking backwards In windows View ... Like footprints... Erased by the sands Of time Renewed... A flight... So Gentle On The Mind ( like the song) (C) Janice Fisher  Photo Credit (c) Dragon Fire Fotos Janice Fisher 

My chemeli A halfwit, I was made to fall asleep on the hillside, When winde was gelid and weather was murky. In my unconsciousness, my hands have been tied. I couldn't make a cry, or smell, in that hurly-burly.  I was made to drink an  unsweetened fruit, A savage entered my orchard,  stole my chameli, Later, he stole the show and my dear keyed flute. My mouth was sealed off, listen to me O'kelly:  It's such a melancholy, that it struck me deeply, No more smiling, no more time to play with the stars, No more air guitar or even hobbies, honestly From all the worries I am now free, virtually. Dame silly, eh, chameli, I became weary from  My long journeys, the world is no more near me. ---- Affaq Nabi 

Soil opens all doors .  Soil is like the hot pad to pull out the burning hot rack without being burned. When we tend soil she works for us so we can do our best.  We only have life, not things  Not a job Gut soil, I tend, gives me life's wings Misfit feeling I did not tend my gut soil Hating self, I ignored my gut soil Not loving my body, I starved  my gut soil Soil is my source of life she tends my soul Soil, she keeps me in the here and now  To have learned from the past Remembering pain-free My wisdom at last  She allows me to not ge burned  by perfect knowledge of God  She creates my advanced biology Soil is the source of life for everybody, that's not odd, I tend my soil I fit in I feed my soil, I understand  I connect to soil first, I love me I love me,  I can l Iove everyone Yes, I can A simple soil artist, I Am Alchemist Chef Kynthia  Relationship with Soil Caring action to make it happen  Clarity and Wisdom...