Wail

Among the rolls and leaves of this sober night, 
The old moon needlessly poured its light. 
The earth is a grey graveyard, 
Moonlight fell on it, dead and unheard.
Wild wind smelled blood in places,
Where God's apparition broke in pieces.
Oceans abandoned the stars above in agony,
The day will come again, only to leave inharmony.

Lament

The wind moves over the causeless land,
caressing the hills, rivers, and the trees.
Wind plays all strings and the music is unheard.
The dancer has strayed away and abandoned.
No closer, No further.
Poems die and no one will know.
The moon takes a dip in the lake,
And time stops, It swims to nowhere.
The rivers flow, die, and flow.
How is it going on inside your mortal home?
How about the life you call eternal?
Your love, your art, your God, your truth and lies,
Gives the alluring chaos ill-suited orders.

Nadia Rana

Now that you and I are apart,
We no longer long for cold night debaucheries.
The Ship of words hit the unseen,
closed voyage of life.
You flew to the Land of the pure,
While the world embracing the plague.
Like a candle, you were dying, while
Sharing the fire, Sobbing quietly.
And to them, you remained a woman,
remembered and forgotten at their own will.
In shame, I stand, lacking the courage to write,
Knowing, you can’t read the languages I write.

Untitled

On the swelling river hurled the shadows,
Heading heedless to the valley.
Crumbling unto each fragment of its soul,
Scaling new heights with selfless journey.
Cutting your throat to free and fly
O! boundless cloud, and to dance with the whole.
In all the forlorn seasons, life’s sprout
Wrapped in perpetual mirages.
Wuthering winds of delicate verses
Chanted to mute familiar silence of absurdity.
Yet through your beautiful tendrils
Blossoms the glorious dawns.

Jenette

As the breeze sneaks through the window
We lay naked on the floor fingers hooked.
Night trembles like the candle flame
Far is dawn, let’s make love again.
Your burning lips soaked in wine
Crushed myself in desire to drown.
Your long hair is like a stream,
That is descended from the hilltop.
Your breasts are like lotus buds,
Awaiting warmth of fingers.
Your breath is like a flame,
Which smells stemmed roses.
Far is dawn, let’s make love again.

C’est La Vie

All of a sudden your silence is sailing through my heart
Do you feel the heat around your ears?
Sing to me the way you did until last night to ease
crumbling anguish and its weight on my chest.
Never in years, you enthralled by un-freedom of Jailers,
Why did you sing all night long for me in the dungeon gloom?
Walls of justice threw me in this abyss with you,
All they call justice is what they see through their tiny prism.
On your pale body I painted Anne’s tits out of saudade.
Laws that shatter accord of existence,
In vain detains the ambivalent sheep and men.
Five in the morning, when God is still hiding his face
I’ll be at the scaffold, tell my story to your new friend.

Alexie

Falling in slow spirals the dry leaves,
Whirling blissfully to decay themselves.
Somber wind smelled whisky, thus an old bit of emotion.
Blurry words in your letters still made me cry in oblivion.
It’s so odd, flashing your face in head while sleeping
to the scent of naked tits of women I’m dating.
Sufi-like dry leaves bid farewell to the trees in harmony,
They owe nothing between to persist in agony.
We did apart seasons back with no tears rolling down,
Why do you still haunts me in the dreams of unknown?
And Señorita, beyond the rusty bars of affection,
Are you dancing in the menace of satisfaction?

Absolute cliché

Under the sluttery sky we danced to the waves,
In vain we died and born streams after streams.
Unwise is this life, thus raves,
Those colorless ocean of screams.
Not this neon lights of Levoča scraps abyss of darkness,
Not this pleasant perfumes lixiviate bitter reality.
Likewise is the unreal sphere covered in lustfulness,
So is the bliss sold by priests for illiberality.
Adam, you’re aloof from home, wandering,
For the inexplicable thirst to deviate.
Come home, kill the plague that, keeping
You from the real, for nothing, yet to liberate

Bethany

Bethany, my love, you knew the damage of my soul.
Bethany, my love, you felt the bondage of my spirit.
Bethany, my love, you saw the montage of my sick-room.
And you came late in the night
made my antsy ashes
Jumping into the fire from the height
And setting me into the blushes.
You rained in the late night
making melodies for my ears
And the melancholy elegy of nature might
have hurled away the fears.
You splashed noisily on the panes
pouring life incessantly into my heart.
And the words in my lines
having waited until you start.
Till dawn restlessly you sounded
Love, You came in the dark,
as you healed my wounded
soul and made the soir lark.
Bethany, give me the wings
and take me up to the heavens above,
where I shall see the priceless things
made up by the God of love.
Bethany, with this indescribable affection
of love’s sweet pain let us pray
to the lord of love with the impression
our love shall make our lives its prey.

Tatiana

When the Sun has set, In this lonely landscape,
The long grass dance with the evening wind.
Here I stare at your inscape,
Which this cordage of love cannot bind.

Lying on your bed watching you sleep naked
You still smell White-Russian, it’s cream I smeared on your tits.
All of our evenings always had languor of cigars you smoked
I stay, though you pine for mere nooky in bits.

Tatiana, wake up and vainly whisper in my ears not to depart,
Until the wild birds come back again.
Tatiana, while you make love to me, love me with your heart,
Until the flowers keep spring in abstain.