I WRITE ONE EVERY DAY
SHE’S SO MUCH FUN TO THINK ABOUT
AND SHE LOVES THE THINGS I SAY
I TELL HER SHE IS PRETTY
AND A LOVELY SIGHT TO SEE
I COULD NEVER FIND ANOTHER
WHO COULD MEAN AS MUCH TO ME

SHE HAS CLASS, A DASH OF STYLE
AND AN OVERDOSE OF CHARMS
OH THE WAY SHE MAKES ME FEEL
WHEN SHE IS IN MY ARMS

SHE HAS BOTH WIT AND HUMOR,
AND A HEART THAT’S OPEN WIDE
SHE’S A LADY OF GOOD CHARACTER
WHO’LL WALK BESIDE YOU, STRIDE FOR STRIDE

EVERY NIGHT ANOTHER POEM
IF NOT, THEN EVERY DAY
I COULD WRITE UNTIL FOREVER
AND STILL HAVE MUCH TO SAY

I will not die an unlived life,
I will not live in fear of falling or catching fire,
I choose to inhabit my days,
To allow my living to open me,
To make me more accesssible,
To loosen my heart until it becomes a wing,
A torch, a promise.
I choose to risk my significance;
To live so that what comes to me, as seed,
Goes to the next as blossom,
Then goes on to bear fruit.

Dawna Markova.

Sitting, alone, darkness consumes.
No one can see the girl.
With bright eyes.
And one curl.

She’s almost saddened by this.
Her most extrordinary show.
It will go unnoticed.
No one will know.

Till they find her limp body.
Alone in her bed.
The lost memories.
Of the life she’d led.

She wanted to see the pain.
The blood drip from her wrist.
Because she had aimed for her goals.
She aimed, and she missed.

She wants to swallow the peace.
Feel the freedom spread through her veins.
Find an everlasting love.
Take away her pains.

She wants to die alone.
The same way she was always found.
Alone with herself.
No other soul around.

And as she got ready.
She turned out the lights.
To die in the darkness.
To escape all life’s frights.

But when the lights went out.
Some magic occured.
The room lit up.
And a memory was stirred.

She recalled a day.
She’d been talking with a friend.
Talking about life.
How much she wanted it to end.

But her friend said no.
She said I love you.
And you know it.
The stars join us two.

No matter where you are.
When you can see the sky.
Glance at the stars.
And reconcider why.

Why do you want to die?
Where has your meaning gone?
Will it be refound?
Will it rise with suns dawn?

If you have any question.
If you know it could.
Then please hold on.
You know that you should.

Because I love you.
My love is in the star.
It is always in my heart.
Whether near or far.

So when the lights went out.
And you saw the glow.
You knew that those lit up stars.
Were your reason not to go.

So you sat back in bed.
Put the knife aside.
Recapped the pills.
And thought how you almost died.

How you almost gave up.
How you based your life on your past.
Knowing full well.
That the past will never last.

So as you lay there that night.
With a refound hope in your heart.
You knew you could find.
A way to restart.

Your life will start now.
It will be based on stars.
Your past will not matter.
Nor will engraved scars.

Because you love’s in the stars.
And stars never die.
So if you ever question.
That’s your reason why.

There are different wells within your heart.
Some fill with each good rain,
Others are far too deep for that.

In one well
You have just a few precious cups of water,
That ‘love’ is literally something of yourself,
It can grow as slow as a diamond
If it is lost.

Your love
Should never be offered to the mouth of a
Stranger,
Only to someone
Who has the valor and daring
To cut pieces of their soul off with a knife
Then weave them into a blanket
To protect you.

There are different wells within us.
Some fill with each good rain,
Others are far, far too deep
For that.

14th century Persian ghazal by Hafiz — Khwajeh Shams al-Din Muhammad Hafez-e Shirazi — as translated by Daniel Ladinsky)

From Ladinsky D. (1999) The gift: poems by Hafiz the great Sufi master. Penguin: New York, via The Songs of Hafiz

What could my mother be
to yours? What kin is my father
to yours anyway? And how
did you and I meet ever?
But in love our hearts are as red
earth and pouring rain:
mingled
beyond parting.

Kuruntokai - 40 (Tamil: குறுந்தொகை)

. 

The translation by renowned folklorist, the late AK Ramanujan from:

. 

Yaayum (n)yaayum yaaraagiyaro
Yendaiyum Nundaiyum emmurai kelir
Yaanum neeyum evvazhi aridhum
chempulap-peineer pola
anbudai nenjamthan kalandanavey

குறிஞ்சி - தலைவன் கூற்று
யாயும் ஞாயும் யாரா கியரோ
எந்தையும் நுந்தையும் எம்முறைக் கேளிர்
யானும் நீயும் எவ்வழி யறிதும்
செம்புலப் பெயனீர் போல
அன்புடை நெஞ்சம் தாங்கலந் தனவே.

-செம்புலப் பெயனீரார்.

It is a Classical Tamil poem from The Kuruntokai, Anthology of Sangam Literature. Author is unknown, but for reference’s sake, Tamil Pandits have called him(?) “Chempulap-Peineerar” which refers to the picturesque idiom used in its last line. The period assigned to it is between 1 BC to 3AD.

I’m sick of this
I’ve been a puppet on your string for too long
You don’t own me
I’m tired of being strong for you
Now
I’m doing it for me
And if I wanna break down
That’s what I’m gonna do.

You kept telling me to stay quiet
Take a back seat
Hold everyone else together
What about me?
Watching everyone fall apart around me
Couldn’t join in
Just watching it all crumble
A lone pillar in the metaphorical destruction

Arguing over petty shit
A car door is metal
There are more important things
Like life
Health
And family
But you don’t seem to care
Don’t tell me to shut up

For the past month
That’s all I’ve done.

Silence from me on the outside
But inside
Nothing but noise
Anger
Destruction
Collapse
Fear
Pain

Watch my façade
It won’t last long
Its getting old
Watch it crumble like the rest of this fucked up situation

Pain?
Pills numb the pain.
But that’s not the answer

I’m in a cyclone speed mental spiral

down
down
down

Need to find the brake before its too late

Too late

too late..