Stand by me
She asked "will you stand by me"
I wondered for a moment and felt so much free
From the old apprehensions and went just near
For repeat of those words from her to hear
It created a magic in air and spread like fragrance
I had waited long for it to hear at once
So many had repeatedly told me many times
That love is taking place only by chance
I dream nothing except your company
It might have been experienced by so many
I have different story to tell for all those
Who are really loving and honestly chose
It is wonderful to feel for each other
World is definitely nice place to live and bother
But here it is entirely different and meant for belonging
Time has now come to end the longing
It is spelling doom for dry spell
From now on everything may seem very well
Nothing will be serious for a time to continue
A different perspective from different angle to view
I feel mighty hands around waist
The heavy breath can be heard from chest
I need an extra courage to feel above normal human
It is in direction for making me complete woman
I dream about another world to live in
With total commitment and usher in
A place where sun and moon may shine with objective
Life shall remain totally committed and subjective
The phrase" stand by me "has its own relevance
Love now can't be told as happening by chance
It is on real land and will be shaped as we move on
The past may be remembered but reality may not be won
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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Related quotes
Goodbye Mine M.j.
A "Stranger in Moscow" told me that you've gone!
But is it true that you've gone my M.J.?
And with tears in my eyes I say goodbye my M.J.
You who feeds the eyes and the ears
And has graced our African soil
But why did you have to go, you "Smooth criminal"
When you know "They don't care about us"
Tell me, who will "Heal the world"?
Who will make it a better place for us?
Who will give to the poor once and again to their necessity?
Who will be there for them in their anguish and pain?
O', know you not that admired you are of those that hate you most
And did you have to go; or where you too lonely?
But you said "We're the world" that "You are not alone"
Then why did you have to go? And did you leave another "Thriller"
If no, then why choose to be "The man in the mirror"
Thus dirge and elegy now met in my heart. Why?
"Do you remember the time" we first met in my dream
And "The way you make me feel" with your "Childhood"?
Oh king of pop, my M.J., "I want you back"
And you "Got to be there" for me on my birthday
To sing me your song, "Don't stop till you get enough"
While "Rockin Robin and Ben" "Off the wall" till they "Scream"
For your love is magical because you're angelica
You are so wonderful because you're beautiful
You are indispensable because you're irreplaceable
And now I see the "Liberian girl" cry because you're "Speechless"
And upon our bodies the nighted color of mourning you. Why?
Alas death! Why taketh him away when all that look on him yet not satisfied?
O', let not the world lose another "Michael Jackson".
Michael I love you "Yesterday, today and forever."
May the spirit light your way
Through the land of the shadow
To the halls of eternal peace. Amen.
In the cabinet of my imagination, in the treasury of my reason, in the registry of my conscience, and in the council chamber of my thought, there shall you live forever.
I LOVE YOU MINE M.J.
poem by Lightcheerful Briggs
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Yoy want anything
You want anything
"You want anything from me "
I told her to be frank and free"
She did not stop looking down
It was sheer fault of my own
I loved her and confided many times
Yet she had apprehensions sometimes
Any serious girl may think hundred times
Before making her self available on that line
I have great regard for her sense of pride
Many a times she opined and did not hide
I was afraid to face her in day light
As she never crossed the way to fight
This was my first encounter with her
She was bold and brave with no fear
"I shall face world but not go back"
To my words even if so much is at stake
I left her in lurch and went abroad
As I was poor and down with debt load
I had to make move with heavy heart
Even though I resolved in mind to make her part
Today I am back after many years
I wanted same original voice to be heard in ears
I sent for her a message with flower
To see me in private but not at place very far
I saw her with pale face but not completely down
She was in complete command and made it known
"I am unmarried yet" but paused in between
"I too same for these many years have been"
We both were passing through same phase
Life was normal but not with any fine base
It lacked warmth and life's discipline
How could everything be smooth and fine?
"I am reformed and at my best"
The past was past and passed off as test
Let us be one again and spend the rest of the journey
She smiled for a while and I thanked almighty
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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Intimacy
I hear people say, "I love my iPhone, "
Or, "I love drinking a Starbucks coffee."
Sometimes: "I love my Versace cologne, "
And also: "I love having this money."
I hear people say, "I love my Walmart, "
Or, "I love the drive-thru at Taco Bell."
"I love my TV. It's state of the art."
"I love the shoes that Nike has to sell."
I hear this: "I love American Idol, "
And, "I love a nice, cold Budweiser."
"I love medicines such as Demerol."
And, "I love my internet provider."
Yet, one thing I don't hear is, "I love you."
Saying that is too intimate to do.
poem by Tim Stensloff
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See what you like
There should never be "what" and "if"
We are only green leaf or leaves
Hear what we feel an act as not deaf
Feel to the pulse and say very brief
Love is to care
Love is to dare
Love is to be fare
Spread the fragrance in the air
Eyes may speak
But legs may feel weak
You may know it well
I have nothing more to tell
I loved it all
Waited for your sweet call
You were there in my dream
I always longed for you to swim
I lack the words
But look always forward
I feel warmth and her gentle touch
I never knew love will be as such
I missed her not for the beauty
But I considered it as my duty
Love demands sacrifice
Not words but with full promises
She may be far and away
But I see in her clear way
She guides me from the distance
What a luck and beautiful golden chance!
I may hold her whenever time comes
Offer all praises and heartily welcome
She may be for me and forever
I shall not doubt it any more
Not all people may be lucky
Whatever they want and get it easy
I must be thankful to her and almighty
Who have blessed me with such a fine beauty?
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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The ABC
'Twas midnight in the schoolroom
And every desk was shut
When suddenly from the alphabet
Was heard a loud "Tut-Tut!"
Said A to B, "I don't like C;
His manners are a lack.
For all I ever see of C
Is a semi-circular back!"
"I disagree," said D to B,
"I've never found C so.
From where I stand he seems to be
An uncompleted O."
C was vexed, "I'm much perplexed,
You criticise my shape.
I'm made like that, to help spell Cat
And Cow and Cool and Cape."
"He's right" said E; said F, "Whoopee!"
Said G, "'Ip, 'Ip, 'ooray!"
"You're dropping me," roared H to G.
"Don't do it please I pray."
"Out of my way," LL said to K.
"I'll make poor I look ILL."
To stop this stunt J stood in front,
And presto! ILL was JILL.
"U know," said V, "that W
Is twice the age of me.
For as a Roman V is five
I'm half as young as he."
X and Y yawned sleepily,
"Look at the time!" they said.
"Let's all get off to beddy byes."
They did, then "Z-z-z."
poem by Spike Milligan
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Sky Song
The flower of the Alps told the seashell: "You're shining"
The seashell told the sea: "You echo"
The sea told the boat: "You're shuddering"
The boat told the fire: "You're glowing brightly"
The fire told me: "I glow less brightly than her eyes"
The boat told me: "I shudder less than your heart does when she appears"
The sea told me: "I echo less than her name does in your love-making"
The seashell told me: "I shine less brightly than the phosphorus of desire in your hollow dream"
The flower of the Alps told me: "She's beautiful"
I said: "She's beautiful, so beautiful, she moves me."
poem by Robert Desnos
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An incomplete soul of a woman
Often you have called me
"Complete"
Often you have called me
"A full woman"
And today you ask me
What in life I lack?
Love…
If you had ever guessed
You would have known
How very "incomplete" I am.
Half my life I have spent
Waiting for you....
Searching for you...
In every passing strangers eyes.
Now when you finally are here
You stand a stranger
Closest to the heart,
Like the shadow of the dusk
Very much my own,
Yet distant, like a dream.
I know you are mine
Just as am i
solely yours,
Yet will always stand apart as
"we" are nobodies nobody.
The feeling is so pure,
Pristine like the dawn
And its dew.
Yet wrapped in ugly sheets of guilt
it will always lie buried
in deep caverns of shame.
And like thieves two,
We will always hide,
What is so beautiful,
So serene, so true.
I am not complete…
How can i?
When I am destined to live
This life with you
Yet without you.
I am not a full woman…
How can i?
When I am to wither away and die..
Somewhere very close to you
Yet far away from your sight.
Yes, I will always remain
"in-complete".
An incomplete soul of a woman.
poem by Anjali Kakati
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I want to see
I don't know about what a way to feel?
Not to express in open but still!
I earnestly feel that she belongs to me
Only she has to respond and make me feel free
"She will come like rain and shower"
"Deplete all her energy and power"
Such words from her drive me to craziness
But I get lost in her glitter and shining face
"I love you" may come to me as recognition
That shall clam me down and need no ignition
She has descended from far and distant land
Taken a vow to stand fast till the end
"Only your picture of thumb impression" I plead
She opens her eyes and coolly tries to read
Extends her hand and invites me to lead
I pick the chance and tie a knot with thread
I float on water with no wish for any more ground
She is there for me to be always found
I can't afford to loose her at any time
Such thoughts invade my mind many a times
Will she emerge on my eye window screen?
What will she be looking like when actually seen?
So far she has eluded me from seeing her in real
Beauty is hidden purposefully and concealed
"I am here" open your eyes and see it happen
You have pulled me near heart is taken
I am at your gate point and wait for entry
What will you be doing to lift me and carry?
Her magical words hunt my memory
I try to pick each word but feel sorry
She is no where around but airs the presence
"I want to see you by chance" and at once
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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My Friend, The Parking Lot Attendant
—he's a dandy
—small moustache
—usually sucking on a cigar
he tends to lean into cars as he
transacts business
first time I met him, he said,
"hey! ya gonna make a
killin'?"
"maybe," I answered.
next meeting it was:
"hey, Ramrod! what's
happening?"
"very little," I told
him.
next time I had my girlfriend with me
and he just
grinned.
next time I was
alone.
"hey," he asked, "where's the young
chick?"
"I left her at home...."
"Bullshit! I'll bet she dumped
you!"
and the next time
he really leaned into the car:
"what's a guy like you doing driving a
BMW! I'll bet you inherited your
money, you didn't get this car with your
brains!"
"how'd you guess?" I
answered.
that was some weeks ago.
I haven't seen him lately.
feIlow like that, chances are he just moved on
to better
things.
poem by Charles Bukowski
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Grandfather Says
"Sit in my hand."
I'm ten.
I can't see him,
but I hear him breathing
in the dark.
It's after dinner playtime.
We're outside,
hidden by trees and shrubbery.
He calls it hide-and-seek,
but only my little sister seeks us
as we hide
and she can't find us,
as grandfather picks me up
and rubs his hands between my legs.
I only feel a vague stirring
at the edge of my consciousness.
I don't know what it is,
but I like it.
It gives me pleasure
that I can't identify.
It's not like eating candy,
but it's just as bad,
because I had to lie to grandmother
when she asked,
"What do you do out there?"
"Where?" I answered.
Then I said, "Oh, play hide-and-seek."
She looked hard at me,
then she said, "That was the last time.
I'm stopping that game."
So it ended and I forgot.
Ten years passed, thirtyfive,
when I began to reconstruct the past.
When I asked myself
why I was attracted to men who disgusted me
I traveled back through time
to the dark and heavy breathing part of my life
I thought was gone,
but it had only sunk from view
into the quicksand of my mind.
It was pulling me down
and there I found grandfather waiting,
his hand outstretched to lift me up,
naked and wet
where he rubbed me.
"I'll do anything for you," he whispered,
"but let you go."
And I cried, "Yes," then "No."
"I don't understand how you can do this to me.
I'm only ten years old,"
and he said, "That's old enough to know."
Sonnet V: Nothing But No
Nothing but "No," and "Aye," and "Aye," and "No"?
How falls it out so strangely you reply?
I tell ye, Fair, I'll not be answer'd so,
With this affirming "No," denying "Aye."
I say, "I love," you slightly answer "Aye";
I say, "You love," you pule me out a "No";
I say, "I die," you echo me an "Aye";
"Save me," I cry, you sigh me out a "No";
Must woe and I have nought but "No" and "Aye"?
No I am I, if I no more can have;
Answer no more, with silence make reply,
And let me take myself what I do crave.
Let "No" and "Aye" with I and you be so;
Then answer "No," and "Aye," and "Aye" and "No."
poem by Michael Drayton
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Dream Fable
I saw myself in a wide green garden, more beautiful than I could begin to understand. In this garden was a young girl. I said to her, "How wonderful this place is!"
"Would you like to see a place even more wonderful than this?" she asked.
"Oh yes," I answered. Then taking me by the hand, she led me on until we came to a magnificent palace, like nothing that was ever seen by human eyes. The young girl knocked on the door, and someone opened it. Immediately both of us were flooded with light.
Only Allah knows the inner meaning of the maidens we saw living there. Each one carried in her hand a serving-tray filled with light. The young girl asked the maidens where they were going, and they answered her, "We are looking for someone who was drowned in the sea, and so became a martyr. She never slept at night, not one wink! We are going to rub funeral spices on her body."
"Then rub some on my friend here," the young girl said.
"Once upon a time," said the maidens, "part of this spice and the fragrance of it clung to her body -- but then she shied away."
Quickly the young girl let go of my hand, turned, and said to me:
"Your prayers are your light;
Your devotion is your strength;
Sleep is the enemy of both.
Your life is the only opportunity that life can give you.
If you ignore it, if you waste it,
You will only turn to dust."
Then the young girl disappeared.
poem by Rabia al Basri
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How Deep Is Your Love?
Superficial, or sacrificial?
Secular, or the supernatural?
How deep is your love?
Would you give up quality of life?
Or give up life itself?
To what do we let go?
To what do we hold on?
People or objects?
How far do we go,
Before we move on?
To our breaking point,
Or until we have proven it.
Hold on to resentment,
Let go of another.
Prove our point, or to prove love.
Beauty is only skin deep.
But beautiful is at the core.
The spirit lives forever.
It endures all.
Our essence, our core, is love itself.
Given by God, as He lives inside of us.
He is buried deep,
Surrounded by lies.
Lies we have bought in a cold cruel world.
A world of shallow love.
Love of self, at the cost of another.
She walked away,
He waited.
She asked, "Why when you had me you did not want me, "
"But now I am gone, and you will fight? "
"You have changed, but it is too late."
"For I have found another."
The man replied, "The answer is simple."
"Why is it, you have me now and do not want me? "
"I have proven the truth of my love."
"I have endured a thousand deaths."
"I have risen each time."
"To become love itself."
"Not for me, but for you."
"Affection is shown, but love is assumed."
"To the superficial, love is all show."
"To the sacrificial, love is the show."
"I can tell you I love you,
"But the words have no substance."
"They disappear in thin air."
"Love is patient."
"Love as a feeling, will come and go."
"Feelings are impatient."
"It is truth that never changes."
"And love, that is true, will endure all."
"As it has since the beginning of time."
"Not as defined by society."
"But as defined by the creator and sustainer."
"It is only once the feelings have broken the heart, the holder of the feelings."
"That the beholder is freed."
"To show the love that will never be broken."
"Love that is true."
poem by Ryan Lee Morris
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Lead "me" to "me
What is this place?
Where have I reached?
I stand infront
The mirror,
As a stranger
Stares back at me.
Do I know her?
Have we met before?
Why do I see in her traces of' me'?
Or is this…
The new ‘me"?
Do I like her?
Brazen she stands…
Her hair wind swept,
Her eyes, wild
No longer windows
To the divinity of her soul.
But her smile has
Traces of "me".
That strange
Devil in "me".
As I shudder in peril,
Where have I reached?
Its miles and miles of mist,
Paths untread,
Lonely beings.
But…
Its this mysterious "me"
Which terrifies my soul.
Did I ever want to be
"her"?
Do I have a choice?
Is it too late to decide,
Revert, run back?
Where did I lose the "me"
I was so proud about?
Pray, give me your magic hand
Do lead "me to"me"…
For without "you" holding "me"
I remain not even "me"
Daddy…
your little 'ai'is all lost
Please lead "me" to "me"….
poem by Anjali Kakati
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Happy and nice moments
"You have to terminate pregnancy"
"I know you may have difficulty"
"But believe me it is my helplessness"
I won't be comfortable at all in this case"
He was pleading before me
With both hands and trying to get free
I was just watching his facial expression
He was suffering from trauma under guilty admission
I tried to read more about his mind
"Dear you were so eager this before and very kind"
We did develop intimate relation with consent
The child may be coming as gift and heavenly sent
"You won't know the consequences"
"We may have to witness worst ever chances"
He was becoming vocal to get out as fast as possible
I knew know why he was so desperate to come out of trouble?
He was facing complete boycott from family
Previously he had accepted it readily
I was dreaming heaven and moon within sight
Here he was dashing all my hopes and proving not right
I heard him patiently and refused to surrender
Even though we both had reason to differ
I failed to understand reason behind his offer
It was totally out of phase and I opted out to suffer
I used to feel motherhood at each moment
It is the only phase that mothers resent
Even if to phase pregnancy termination
As it stands golden opportunity for laying foundation
Today I am mother of loving child
So much happy in love and going blind
Child is everything to me as priceless
What else or happiness I have to express on face?
I feel entire world is t my feet
I have reason to feel and greet
All those people who stood with it
I have firm ground now to stand with feet
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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At play
Play that you are mother dear,
And play that papa is your beau;
Play that we sit in the corner here,
Just as we used to, long ago.
Playing so, we lovers two
Are just as happy as we can be,
And I'll say "I love you" to you,
And you say "I love you" to me!
"I love you" we both shall say,
All in earnest and all in play.
Or, play that you are that other one
That some time came, and went away;
And play that the light of years agone
Stole into my heart again to-day!
Playing that you are the one I knew
In the days that never again may be,
I'll say "I love you" to you,
And you say "I love you" to me!
I love you!" my heart shall say
To the ghost of the past come back to-day!
Or, play that you sought this nestling-place
For your own sweet self, with that dual guise
Of your pretty mother in your face
And the look of that other in your eyes!
So the dear old loves shall live anew
As I hold my darling on my knee,
And I'll say "I love you" to you,
And you say "I love you" to me!
Oh, many a strange, true thing we say
And do when we pretend to play!
poem by Eugene Field
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Another Acrostic ( In the style of Father William )
"Are you deaf, Father William!" the young man said,
"Did you hear what I told you just now?
"Excuse me for shouting! Don't waggle your head
"Like a blundering, sleepy old cow!
"A little maid dwelling in Wallington Town,
"Is my friend, so I beg to remark:
"Do you think she'd be pleased if a book were sent down
"Entitled 'The Hunt of the Snark?'"
"Pack it up in brown paper!" the old man cried,
"And seal it with olive-and-dove.
"I command you to do it!" he added with pride,
"Nor forget, my good fellow to send her beside
"Easter Greetings, and give her my love."
poem by Lewis Carroll
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Natural flavor
You opened up like rose
Spread from all sides as you chose
I could sense your presence through nose
It smelt and spread because….
I wanted her along with natural flavor
As she was gifted with natural fervor
All qualities were with her nature
She was the one for which I was very much sure
She teased me by saying "no relation with you"
For a second I was taken back and believed it true
She had come so much close to me
Now I was in position to explain it free
I asked if she was ready to align with
She crushed her tongue in between the teeth
I got wind of it and accepted her answer
She was for it and acknowledged it as follower
It was not going from stated position
We were nice pair with good combination
Her beauty was like glittering gold with original shine
I felt my self very much lucky sailing in heaven
"Aisha" is my real name and stand for promise
You have not at all made sudden surprise
I was in need of gentleman who could take me along
Certainly I am confident and feel never to go wrong
For me relation is not for fun
I can't make everybody sing and run
I am faithful and wish the same
As man are not predictable worth the name
"I am prepared to join you in few days time"
She was bold enough to admit it any time
She needed my answer with firm commitment
I did not hesitate and consented within a moment
She may be relaxed now with my consent
She might have witnessed all the qualities present
I was sure to sail in her boat for life journey
Only needed one last blessings from the almighty
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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The Woman At The Gate
"Where is your little boy to-day?"
I asked her at the gate.
"I used to see him at his play,
And often I would wait:
He was so beautiful, so bright,
I watched him with delight.
"He had a tiny motor-car
And it was painted red;
He wound it up; it ran so far,
So merrily it sped.
I think he told me that it was
A gift from Santa Claus."
The woman said: "It ran so far
He followed it with joy.
Then came a real motor-car,--
He sought to save his toy . . .
My little boy is far away
Where angel children play.
"His father perished in the War;
Now I am all alone,
And death is all I'm longing for . . ."
So said with face of stone
That woman. "Curse their crazy cars
And cruel wars!"
poem by Robert William Service
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Your grave
If I could visit your grave
I could have been very much brave
You parted early in surprise
Just breaking holy promise
You sent me away to build future
You wanted me by your side for sure
I was strong enough to sustain any pain
As you were my only main concern
You knew it in advance
You only waited for chance
You had one excuse under disguise
You acted tough but very wise
Had I been by your side at end time?
I could have gone mad sometimes
Torn off all cloths and ran amuck in forest
As you departure was tough endurance test
I hardly came to know your last breath
You were buried deep under ground after death
Made sweet home to sleep and stay away
I could hardly make it in time to reach the way
How could I visit now your grave?
How will gather strength to be brave?
My eyes have gone barren and complete dry
I have no more courage to stand before and cry
All golden pages are written on heart
Our meetings under tree were unique art
We loved to live last moment
Now I can only dream and resent
I miss you love and can stand nowhere
I can come to visit but will it be fair?
People may laugh at your deception
You had parted without according me reception
I would love to be buried along side
I shall lay not far but little wide
I shall express only one wish
"God take me away and finish"
How would I live without her?
Who will solace me and wipe my tears?
I long secretly for last words to hear
I shall just lay on ground with my ears
I shall pick the pulse and sense
Just may know how much you feel tense
I shall love to be known as dead man
Even though technically I am no more to be called human
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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