Love me as I will

Love me as I will

Love me as I will,
If you want me still,
All the girls before you,
Since I was a kid,
Said to me ‘I love you,’
But they never did.

Last time was different,
Different yet again,
But they always lead you,
Down the memory lane,
With every break,
The heart will ache,
And broken will remain,
The greater the love,
The greater the dream,
The greater the loss,
The greater the pain.

THE GREATER THE LOVE,
THE GREATER THE DREAM,
THE GREATER THE LOSS,
THE GREATER THE PAIN.
And broken will remain.

Dream on little heart,
Of springs that never end,
Of the lips of roses,
Pouting for the wind,
Of love that’s like stars,
Forever young; forever glow,
And stars, like lovers,
They never grow,
They never grow.

Love me as I will,
If you want me still,
All the girls before you,
Since I was a kid,
Said to me ‘I love you,’
But they never did,
So love me and I’ll love you,
TILL THE END.

What should I do?

What should I do?

What should I do
So you’ll believe
My love is true?

What should I say
Except the truth,
The snow is white,
I do love you,
The grass is green,
The sky is blue?

If it’s naughty you prefer,
I’m as naughty as you’ll get,
Just name your game,
Tell me when and tell where
Whatever the bet
We’ll play.

If serenity is your taste,
I’m fine,
I’m calmer than the calmest sea,
I’ll tiptoe in and tiptoe out,
And only when you feel your lips,
You’ll know the warmth
That lingers there,
Is mine.

There’s a key to every lock,
To everywhere a way,
I have a heart,
And I also have pride,
It could be yes
It could be no
When you say you’ll answer me,
I’ll ask.

The Two Wise Bees

Scholars from AllIndia University are certain the claim made by AsiaWide_Acdemia.org concerning the location of a poem atrribted to Acharya Hemachandra is probably “a light-headed prank”. The post published on the AsiaWide_Academia official website has since been withdrawn, but a copy of the purported poem, “The Two Wise Bees” is circulating on several Facebook pages and is reproduced below.
Acharya Hemachandra (1089-1173) said Wikipedia “Was a Jain scholar, poet, and polymath who wrote on grammar, philosophy, prosody, and contemporary history. Noted as a prodigy by his contemporaries, he gained the title Kalikāl Sarvagya, “all-knowing of the Kali Yuga”.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/HemachandraThe Two Wise Bees

To be or not to be,
Said the bee to the other bee,
Either I’ve to sting you,
Or you have to sting me,
We’ve been flying everywhere,
Seen things that nobody saw,
Swatters in every hand,
A blow after a blow,
One minute the chicken’s free,
Browning nicely in the sun,
The next minute it’s in oven,
Screaming loudly, “I’m done”,
The girl under the boy,
Squashed flat and overrun,
Choked already but has to say,
“Wow!!!, Aahaa!!! My honey bun,
I’m having lots of fun”,
Months of  bucking,
And more of sucking,
It’s really difficult to stand,
Then the man has a confession,
“I am faithful to my hand.”
The rich are rich and the poor are poor,
And never the twain shall meet,
If the poor to play the rich must pay,
But both are dragging their own feet,
The next to come is a money crash,
Wealth will wipe out in a flash,
But we are bees so what do we care?
They stole our honey and smoked us out,
Old and young, boys or girls,
They don’t hear us when we shout,,
So stinging me and stinging you,
Is the wisest we can do.

The wise gorilla

The wise gorilla

Hey John, stupid man!
Why do you call me “crazy”?
You have a job, I understand,
But you think I’m lazy?
Your business is to get taxed,
My business is to get relaxed,
I’m soaking a bit of sun,
For a job that must be done,
Not the same is everyone,
You’ve to please a single wife,
I’ve to please twenty one.

Lecture me on your honour,
Truth and faith and dignity,
But what humans don’t know,
Is that 200,000 years ago,
My great, great, great granddad,
Took the husband for a ride,
Then went back and screwed your mum.

You are racist so call me “black”,
It doesn’t bother me a bit,
But you are really no snow white,
With envy you are green,
With anger you are blue,
If very healthy “in the pink”
And if coward “yellow as shit”.
Now piss off before I get up,
And drag you naked to my pit,
The last thing I want to do,
Is to make them twenty two.

Image www.flickr.com

First Things First

First Things First
First things first,
Seconds are always next,
Enter the garden of love and wander,
Your first true love will remain a wonder,
You may forget your first steps,
But the first true kiss is always on your lips.

If I Had a Billion Hearts

If I Had a Billion Hearts*If I had a billion hearts,
And you had a single one,
I’d love you a billion times,
And a billion more before I’m done.But I have a single heart,
That’s anxious for your dare,
Just tell it you want to twine,
And the loving billions you prefer.

If I had a billion lips,
And you had a single pair,
I’ll kiss you a billion times,
With the softest touch and care.
But I’ve for you just two lips,
When you think of a billion ways,
You’ll have them all with eyes closed,
And just one more with a wild stare.

If I had a billion nests,
There’ll be only a single bird,
Dream as wildly as you can,
Then take my hand and lead me on,
To a billion beds that we will share.

*Dedication: Eastern Star/PN

Image: http://www.petitpalais.paris.fr/en
https://www.flickr.com/photos/lemeur/4417642852/

Look in our oryx eyes and say “Subhanallah”

Muslim girls have a message for you: “Look in our oryx eyes and say “Subhanallah”*

The greatest world Muslim emperor of the 9th century was described as a dog, a ram and a large bucket and the poet got away with it!

The story is told of an uncouth poet from deep in the Arabian desert came to emperor Mutawakil in Baghdad to tell him he has a poem he wrote in his praise.
Ali Bin al-Jahm looked a complete mess, so the guards rushed to sweep out of the place but the emperor, Al-Mutawakil (822-861 AD) was intrigued. He gave him permission to begin right away, so Ali addressed him thus:

You’re like a dog in valuing amity,
A ram in war, for enemies you have no pity,
A bucket you are, but what a bucket,
Fuller than all at the well with sins aplenty.

So when the guards readied their swords to chop off his head, the emperor, whose mum was a Turkish Muslim, intervened: “Give him a villa near the bridge on river Tigris where Muslim girls have their daily walks. Make sure it has fruit trees and roses and sweet cool breeze , then bring back to me in six months with a new poem.”
Here are a few lines of his poem, one of the most famous love poems in Islamic literature:

Oryx eyes between Rasafa and bridge,
Wafted towards me love from corners I know,
And every corner I don’t,
To which Muslim girl my love should I pledge,
For friends, sweet for me is love,
And bitter is love for me,
Is there a way to have the sweet,
And let the bitter be?
To a friend I heard her say: lose him not,
Feed him your love, so he may stay,
In portions large and small,
And listen to what I say:
There isn’t a power more potent to sway,
A prisoner of love,
Is in the hardest prisons of all.

As he completed his poem he paused and swayed so the emperor called, “Support my man lest he melts of sweetness and awe.”

We have a little advice for our sisters everywhere. If you don’t want to fall in love steer away from eyes. If you don’t and the eyes introduce themselves to each other and feel safe in the company of each other you’re done, boys and girls, – both of you.

If you want to know why they are called “oryx eyes” have a look here:
https://plus.google.com/100191404216524196296/posts/U3NPXebpsNG

* Muslim girls explain: This is a compound made of two words ‘subhan’, an extension of ‘sabbah’ “to name repeatedly” with a consensus meaning of “to name the wonders of”, and ‘Allah’, “God”. From the verb is ‘subha’ or ‘masbaha’ “beads” used by Muslims to count some of the 99 names of Allah. Some people say “Allah” is the “Muslim God” but that’s not correct. The name comes from a prehistoric ancient Arabian bilateral or mono syllabic root morpheme, it could be either, *ʼL. It was used thousands of years later by Jews “El-ohim” and Christians “Eli”. From this root is ʼwwal “first” because Allah is first but the root has many suffixed and prefixed specifier extensions made of his blessed name and one letter either before the name or after. What is correct is that “Allah”, “El-ohim” and “Eli” are from the same ancient root denoting the same God worshipped by more than three billion people. You can consult this reference:
http://www.amazon.com/Origin-Semitic-Languages-Arabic-Edition/dp/148179888X

To love and suffer

Muslim boys have a poem for Muslim girls.They got the message and they all cheered “Subhanallah” and hope to hear more of “Mashallah”. Their wish is for Muslim girls to like the poem because they took time off study to discuss it, agree on it and write it after they read their message. That took a very long time because they wanted it to be just right and honest for the princesses of righteousness, decency and honestyIf you haven’t read the message here it is:
https://plus.google.com/+AdelBishtawihistorian_and_novelist/posts/Gw2BtFxfWeA

To love and suffer

To love and suffer
Is far better,
Than being happy without,
No place on Earth is emptier,
Than a loveless, empty heart,
So Muslim girls let’s fall in love,
Till death do us part.

Sometimes love is heaven,
Sometimes love is hell,
Sometimes love is tears,
Sometimes joy as well,
So drive away your tears,
Your foolish doubts and fears,
And shine with a smile,
And when you do,
If only for a while,
I’ll take your anxious hand,
And pressed against my lips,
I’ll count the reasons why,
If both of us are lovers,
And both of us are loved,
If both of us are honest,
And both of us are true,
If both of us may take
Bit less than we give,
If both of us forgive,
Forget and reset,
Allah, glorious He in Heaven,
To us will be kind,
For doubt and mistrust are only in our mind.

Muslim girls you’re stronger than you think,
So trust Him and don’t be afraid,
Time will come,
And things will be said,
Hearts will be moved,
A promise will be made,
With every beat,
In every vein,
With every breath,
For every day,
And every way I can,
You will be loved,
I will be yours,
You will be mine,
Again, again and again,
Until the end of time.

Is there a way?

Is there a way?

Is there a way
To make you change your mind,
And put your doubts to rest?
Is it all right to call,
Or maybe wait is best?

Is there a way,
To make you hear my sighs,
As longing as can be?
Or should I be content,
With sighing just for me?

Is there a way,
To make you close my eyes,
For a daily-dream to see?
Or should I pout my lips,
And will a soft breeze?
To take my kiss to you,
And bring your kiss to me?

What should I do?
I do love you,
And out of heart,
I want it out,
For the entire world to see?
It’ll take a while,
And come what may,
I WILL love you,
You WILL love me.
But you won’t tell me,
So don’t tell me,
Say it to your heart.
One day I’ll find a way,
Your heart and mine will take a walk,
Under a tree he’ll kiss my hand,
And he will finally say.

Show less

Chocolate Girl

Chocolate Girl

Chocolate girl,
Would you be –
If only for a while –
The tolling bell,
That wakes me for my dream?
I’ll make my own coffee,
But would you be my only cream?
I’ll serve you every breakfast,
And take it to your bed,
With a white rose for six days,
The seventh a viridifolia green,
But chocolate girl, can I in return
Have you for lunch and dinner,
And the snacks in between?
You can lead in every way,
But in bed I’m in command,
Pleads for mercy are ignored,
And truce granted on demand,
If you let me be your Satan,
I will let you be my god.

And chocolate girl, listen to this:
There’s a legend Arabians say,
That lovers, husbands and poets,
Are last to be judged on Doomsday,
Bedrooms will be the witness,
And beds are called to testify,
The scandals told will shake the earth,
And the horrors will rock the sky,
Poets last and put it this way:
Love is the con of a dream,
It’s a ram and gate story,
Not a knock and welcome theme,
It is heaven to do the ramming,
But for the gate, a nightmare,
The last ram a cry of glory,
For the girl the last scream.
Once no more there is to tell,
All the girls will go to heaven,
And all the boys will go to hell.

But chocolate girl!
Guess what happened after that?
All the girls called for a meeting,
And they went on a hunger strike,
When at last they met Gabriel,
They asked to have their men back,
“It is not their fault,” their leader said,
“They’re full of crap but not so bad,
We were created armed to the teeth,
To seduce, snare and drive them hard,
We’ll vouch for their good conduct,
But if they want a naughty snack,
They’ll have to do it in the dark,
And we, as well, will do our best,
Not to scream at every twist.”