Always on My Mind you baby...

Friday, May 5, 2017

Or yet...

How can i get nostalgic about a feeling
i am yet to feel?
a place i am yet to reach
a hug i am yet to get
a meeting i am yet to have met
and a whole new me
in your eyes reborn
or yet 
How can i feel them on a roll
those tears at your sight,
i am yet to unleash
How can i see my face reflection
in the eyes i am yet to mirror
how could it not be a horror!
living and dying in your every single blink
while cruel you stays awake
as i lay in your yearning 
and off your cuffed tears, drink
neither you see me
nor i ever get my fill

inhaling a scent i am yet to breathe
that up close and personal
skin deep yet sprinkled in your breeze 
neither you feel me
nor i ever for good get my will 
How can i recall a voice tone in my name
that i am yet to hear
how can it sounds like music to my ear
when you say, "yes, i do.. Abeer"
to what i am yet to ask
how can i see beneath your mask
holding your faceless face
with my heartless heart that tenderly  
neither you know me,
nor i ever, until you do, myself will

How can i relive every day a moment 
that our time is yet to live
how is it possible that i recite you poems,
that i am yet to write
by the heart of my heart
where you moon sometimes
and i in the obscurity of your ebbing hairs, light
how do i tell them about your warm handshakes
your awkward silences and intimate smile takes
and how do i know about your soft cheek pecks
when my hands are frozen cold in my melancholy
and yet dry are my lips' wells

How am i able to explain reasons i am yet to give
a life that i already live yet still am to live
how do i find the answers of the questions
you are yet to ask
and stare them back at your confusion mask
I sit around the bone fire of my solitude
spin with your loneliness the bottle
and i dare to kiss the pain out of you
playing the guitar of your quietude
flying my gypsy hairs of desire,
singing, with your cool wind of need
we laugh at the bad jokes of our time
and dance in our patience moonlight
starting forests fires with your kohled lines
and turning them wildly,
my madness windmills 

I keep little things of you
in my special unpublished box
that word you wouldn't say
wrapped in little black denial lace
kept in my delusional epic embrace
and that poem for me you never recite
laying there in the corner of mute, screaming undercover

those sighs you at my stubborn verse utter
and your beneath the dark glasses of longing glim

your before your coming and 8 hours after you leave aroma,
bottled in my yet to refill lungs of hope

What should i your eyes tell
when they ask me about the gazes i quill
and get inked in the bruises of my soul
though you don't bother
how do i know better
carving you acceptance hymns
at the sun temples of my monotheistic mind
burning my unconditional incense
at your to me never comings alter
how can i keep hearing in my soul ears
your with me unlaughed laughter
how am i to fit in the 140 arms character
your unlimited arms shelter 
As if i lived it all my lifetimes to come,
as if i was but everyone you ever hugged,
or yet.


My Poems Recitations for My Shah...

VFXed.. Dreams.. Fan Notes..