Heart Controller

Tribe to which monsoons cry, Heavens march for its revival, A melody for its people, Touching its fragments, A calligraphy. Tribe to which the past burns, Time halts for its revival, A book for its people, Revealing its pages, A calligraphy. Tribe to which tongues are cut, News publish for its revival, A queen for its people, Purifying its lands, A calligraphy. Tribe to which my blood seeps, Organs rip for its revival, A page for its people, Signing its identity, A calligraphy. Tribe to which I am being hanged, Men whisper for its revival, A burden to its people, Breaking its bones, A calligraphy. Sunday, 15 th of March 2015

The elegant stature of the horse, The dazzling beauty of the bird, His muscular gallop at the meadow, Her free-style dance at the pond, The loud drums from his hooves, The mellow songs from her whispers, His nature as wild as a thunderstorm, Her nature as free as a morning breeze, Then, time created a meeting place, Exquisite young hearts to embrace, Plotting for those two to love in grace, Alas, each grew up in a different race, Separate paths, leaving without a trace, A kindled passion extinguished to never replace, Now, their old souls ascended into space, And time held another meeting, just in case, Souls unbound to law start to chase, Then, they went into a long sleep, Descended onto Earth as another being, The thick bark of the cherry blossom tree, The divine scent of the lavender shrub, His long branches sheltering the birds, Her aromatic petals soothing the horses, The limited ageing process of its pink, The lengthened surv...

The death of an ancient star Has forged a luminous being Out of copious lives of men, Rituals in arid lands of Arabia Transformed his old habits On the grand city of ________ , Now cleaved and girdled Into an infamous statue To be crowned victoriously, Two exquisitely elegant _____ Beings joining for an endless Steps of peaceful freedom, And as he walks today calmly In this beautiful spring He wonders about A beautiful tomorrow! Wednesday, 11 th of March 2015

Girls who cover their inner portrait By immersing their delicate beings Into layers of masked foundation For the sole purpose of perfecting An imperfect adorable human skin Are extremely excruciatingly boring, So much so that the incompleteness Of the girl sitting next to her attracts The very eyes that sees her yawn Out of exhaustion in a short meeting Allowing a being with an inner humour To laugh at the delicacy of the matter, Ladies who are listening to mannerism With an interest in many poetic beings Should understand that what attracts The opposite gender is total purity Extracted from an imperfect human To perfect the emotional surge in us, Having illustrated my point of interest to Let passionate hearts out of their cages Riding on tongues to deliver messages Of romanticism is the poet’s desire To warn to never trust a poet’s love For we are imperfect beings, too. Sunday, 08 th of March 2015