I walked out of the house,
found a dime,
looked at the time,
"Oh dayum, it's 9",
Should I keep this? not the dime,
the rhyme,
Well, the poem's mine, so that's not a crime.
I did a toss,
Heads: I go to the coffee house first.
Tails: I take a bus and hear the screams of my boss.
Well, I slapped my head and uttered:"You think too much, Ross."
tip-toed to get a cappuccino,
ran to the shop across the street,
Ah ! the lady in white satin—
well, the dime was right,
*sighs again* Oh! gosh.
I sat at a table in front of her,
watching her satiny hands holding the spoon stir.
the waiter comes up and asks,
"what would you like to have, monsieur?"
I smiled and replied,
"what she's having, that's the thing I would prefer."
I waited,
but the hasty legs wouldn't stop playing clavier.
her lips enveloped around the edge of the cup.
with the bell of the church ringing in the background.
i felt god answer my prayer.
she raised her pupils while sipping,
my heartbeat joined the hasty legs
& sung a song about death stare.
She smiled, looking at me like a squirrel.
I made a move towards her in the midst of my inner quarrel.
She offered her hands,
My head bowed down in respect,
planted a kiss, revived chivalry.
after that, my lips all felt floral.
We exchanged names.
Ah, the dreamy me,Ross weds Eurus.
she pinched me with a kiddish smile,
brought me back to reality,
I realised we were walking on the road,not the aisle.
I switched sides and started walking on the outer part.
she noticed the caring me & I said to myself,
"That's a good start."
she got scared and held my hands when a prankster screamed,
her fingers filled the gap between mine,
the way life keeps breathing under the shelter of art,
her open hairs being teased by winds,
the sun chasing her grim,
rest of the world cherishing the walking springs,
I felt like the luckiest man alive.
I won't lie;
I promised my mother to stay sober
but her eyes served espresso like the finest drink.
---apollo---
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My Beloved, this torture and pain
by Abu-Said Abil-Kheir
English version by Vraje Abramian
Original Language Persian/Farsi
My Beloved, this torture and pain
I suffer because I am so addicted to Your Beauty.
People ask me whether I prefer Your
company to being in heaven.
Heedless fools, what would heaven itself mean
without the Friend's Presence?
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Seaside
We sat on seaside, wrapped in each other's arms,
I could feel his warmth
Obsessed with the sunset
I recalled the sunset, which put our relationship onset
That day and today, everything's changed, but not the love, which forever remained...
We sat on a seaside, waves coming towards us, washing our feets
This is the story of our every meet
Water takes away the sand under my feet
He holds my hand, tight and firm, and this repeats
We sat on a seaside, watching the sunset, wrapped in arms...
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