Saturday, August 11, 2007

MY OWN QUOTES AND LOVE POEMS

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The more you know, the less you know, you know.
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A small man makes look big
The small things he loudly does;
A big man makes look small
The big things he quietly achieves
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From the heap
Of my ashes
A tiny flame rises
Even as embers have died.
Don't nurse this flame
And fan it not,
For the fire shall consume
And leave behind
Two hopelessly pulverised
Heaps of ash,
Entwined
On charred ground.
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So many words
Remain unspoken.
So much to say
But there's a wall
Pierced only by eyes
That see, lower
And look away,
Strained
By lips that do not move
And throat
That hasn't a voice.
And many words
Remain unspoken....
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I bathe
In the warmth
That washes me
And drift
In the ache
Lingering in my heart.
If this be love
Let it flow
Till I'm drowned
And lost.
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On this day
Of joyous celebrations,
Of the chimes of time,
Memories of tears
And happiness,
And the excitement
Of hopes and expectations.

I remember
Your singing voice,
Soothing words,
Love, care
And ministration,
Your peaks, moans
And reciprocation

And I pray
For fulfilling joy,
Auspicious chimes,
For song, bliss
And caring sharing,
For kids, chaos
And happy rearing!
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Echoes in memory are all I carry
And a little voice which tells me,
What is not today shall be tomorrow;
What today is not tomorrow shall be.
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The din of silence
Crashes into my ears,
Shadows of despair
Crowd into my heart.
Hands paralysed
By the weight of distance,
Voice drowned
By the rattle of quiet,
I remain
Praying and pleading
To a stone
At rest,
Pelting booms of silence....
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Two birds of joy
Perch on my tree of sorrow,
Harbingers
Of a golden tomorrow.
Again.......tomorrow.
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I see the solitary crow
And take him as my lot,
For you have chosen
To read me
As something I am not.
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Till you keep looking
For what you can
Get from me,
Rather than what
You can give
To us,
We will remain divided
By the ocean
Of mistrust
And buffeted by
The winds of
Destructive thought.
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When I'm with you,
My love finds
A melancholic expression.
Exhilaration suppressed
I wear a tormented look.
Voice I hear
Calling me away;
Having found you
I know I have not.
A stillborn love
I cradle.
Oh! how do I
Sing and dance?

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