Sunday, 21 July 2013


that all art the same, no one can deny, but why hath choseth thine of you?
to lead, to love, to affront mine why? these purpos’d means misconstrue;
but thoughtless designs, and arbitrations that giveth thee meaningless worth,
maketh me feel gloom, woebegotten doom, when all I should feel that is mirth.
with painstaking toil, that refrain’d by self, that tears, made sweetened and dry,
that lesser folk scorn, and lesser still mind, makes physical wants run awry;
but be that thine claim? thine nature maltreat? that persecutes those of pure heart?
nay, cannot be true, if only retreat, through milestones and aeons apart.

deny this, mine love, but forsake me still, elusive as sprites to a djinn,
make silence with peace, make peace with mine sin,  that arise cacophonous din -
come dusk and the dark, all hungers and lust break free that i may kiss thine lips,
so sickly and sweet, with tinge of remorse, and place mine hand ‘pon thine hips;
such thee may caress and placeth me ‘pon thine bountiful bosom’d embrace,
let feast ‘pon most sweet, ambrosia of gold and nectar and honey’d solace;
but stop! no more! i beg this of thee, too patient,
too humble,
too kind,
let abstinent thought, and refrained wandered hand, give patience to body, to mind.

they’ve loved thee but once, too soon and again, ‘til comes again fanciful time,
same sometimes i pray, forgive my own wane, un’preciative of thine sublime;
so tender thine touch, like tender’d resign, that I may come to love once ‘gain,
so beautiful match’d, those rose blossom’d lips, and skin white of polished porcelain;
still beareth such pain, and sorrow’d remorse,  that uncouth’d plight of this heart,
unworthy be deemed, to any one soul, why hath we must to depart?

and still,
be still,
silently instill,
imbued with heavenly grace,
so long, ‘till ‘gain yet, a smile be thine face, we greet in each others’ embrace.
mine pardon, you’ll grant, apology begged, I could not love thee with pure mind,
this heart is but bleak, inconsolably mad, driven insane by thine shine.

a sapphired glean, that worldly refracts, make inopportune, thee, temptress,
and sorry I could not love thee much more, but so I could love thee no less.

1 comment:

etc said...

to you, who i have not yet learned to love, ramadhan