Home Of The LonelyPoet - Translating Dreams To Poetry

The Pain Of An Unloved Man.

The tangled thoughts of love and reality,
Ah’ what sacred vow binds me to reality?
Skepticism forced me to relinquish the wild dream,
As love for her fell beyond life’s acceptable theme.

And to her I ask “Do you wish I wear another face?,
“Do you wish I were close enough to your age?”,
“Do you wish I spoke different than I do now?”,
“Do you ever wish to see me holding your hand?”.

The silent reader of my lonely heart she is,
Ah’ every time she reads the language of my heart,
Loneliness leave me, and my heart with her face fills,
Oh’ with raised hands once more I pray, for her love.

Oh’ the paths to each other’s hearts so straight it was,
And you went in paths unknown to you and I,
Along the paths fell the dreams of mine you so well know,
And I wish to cry out loud to a world oblivious to my love.

Everyday that passed by, Oh’ I wake and pray,
Every night passed me by I wander in dreams already seen,
Trying hard to find a way to make you smile when you read,
The language of my heart I write letter by letter to you, hiding,

The pain of an unloved man.

May 26, 2019 7:05 AMMay 26, 2019 7:05 AM

A Dream Without A Background.

Blog Post About This Poem.

I sat through the day that brightened every time,
I thought about you, Oh’ those little moments of past,
I sat through the night that shown me twinkling stars,
Every time about you to dream I tried.

I walked throughout the night a somnambulistic act,
Ah’ every image in my heart of you into memory brought,
Bit by bit I repainted each image in a canvas of mind,
Oh’ without those images, life, an empty canvas.

When painting every image, Oh’ you lived in me,
And every time you lived in me, liven my memories,
A new line of verse that memory to my life gave,
Making my life a living poem, bit by bit everyday I wrote.

Waking up one day, painting once more all the image I know,
I sat to write another quartet of verse from my living life,
Ah’ the images came one by one, then one after the other,
The movement in rhythm gave a reason for a romantic dream.

I weaved the dream with your smiles, with your charm,
I made you walk, I made you run ah’ I made you smile more,
Then a thought, about that reality, ah’ that brutal reality…
Erased every bit of that dream and left me stale images.

I sat, I slept, I walked and I ran, I prostrated, I dreamed again,
Every time the images I laid ah’ I know there is no background,
I can paint to weave yet another dream that will complete a poem,
But still, I dreamed, with stale images and unreal backgrounds.

May 25, 2019 6:23 AMMay 25, 2019 6:23 AM

Her Naughty Smiles.

Blog Post About This Poem.

Daylight spent most part of the day hiding,
Behind thunders and rains and somewhere fell,
All that clouds crashing houses and pylons,
Oh’ the violence of nature at times, unbearable.

Night slowly put off the candles from up above,
And the clouds cleared for the lingering heat to rise,
Walkers like me walked in new found enthusiasm,
Mind through shops and people fast moved.

Shops so well decorated and one after the other stood,
Like old times malls doesn’t have many shoppers,
And I walked through many stores and some shoppers,
Like a busy man but deep inside a heart beat for a view.

When passing the book shop I know I will see a face,
But the leaving day decided to give me a surprise,
As I walked past the gates no face I saw, ah’ she is gone,
As I turned to walk back a voice I heard “Hi”.

She walked directly at me with a naughty smile,
I knew she understood the reason of my sudden turn.
For my query of well being she replied “Doing Well”.
And walked past me who wanted to talk more.

My heart said to me “Oh’ what how lovely she is,
In that naughty smile, I saw a million more reasons,
To beat and in every beat to weave a little more,
Love for you to share with her forever.”.

Walking back slowly sipping my evening tea I smiled,
One of those days my heart and me learned to discover,
Reasons to love and loving for a reason so beautiful,
In heart, words and in her naughty smiles.

May 24, 2019 6:14 AMMay 24, 2019 6:14 AM

Sounds Of The Northern Woodlands.

Blog Post About This Poem.

The wind blown from across the woods,
Ah’ from the whispers it put in every sprouting leaf,
And the giggles of those leaves about the last winter,
You were there, a memory of you, filled with love.

Where did that memory came in those woodland winds?
Oh’ those trees heard the cry from my heart about love,
Love of mine only meant for you and you declined,
Love I sought in you Oh’ you felt but hid in heart.

I wish I were a liar when through the woods I walked,
I wish I can lie to my heart that I never loved you,
I wish I can find a lie to tell what from your smile I felt,
Was not love; but Oh’ world and my dear, a liar I am not.

The healing times with changing times to heal may try,
But no love given can be the love of your my dear,
And no love I can weave as no part of heart is empty,
Without my love as a prayer chant heart beats recites.

Facing the crying wind deep in my mind I thought,
The melted snow and ice now galloping into sea,
Where they will leave the sounds of the Woodland trees,
Ah’ may the love of mine for you echo in the depths.

Depths were light and life hardly reaches,
Where none exists to cry for my fallen tears.

May 23, 2019 6:38 AMMay 23, 2019 6:38 AM

The Fallen Fog.

Blog Post About This Poem – Read This Post Before Reading This Poem.

Light, wake up into the unfolding day,
For, darkness is tired after a long night.
When into sleep I fell I wished I see,
Dreams where I held her hands and smiled.

Oh’ the tiring darkness entered my dreams,
Ah’ no smiles I saw, as darkness filled,
But empty was not my dream as my hand was held,
That unseen hand, hidden, but giving a touch of love.

The morning around me spread wide and bright,
Oh’ the inevitable is happening and in mind I asked,
When will my love feeling the love of mine,
Becomes part of the morning’s inevitability.

The greatness of love ah’ in imperfections come,
The fascination of love Oh’ makes the imperfections,
The fascination of your heart, O’ Dear, my dearest,
There are no imperfect fascinations in my love for you.

The fallen fog that impairs your views O’ dear,
The will melt and then you will see,
Then you will feel the beautiful understanding,
Love differentiates not, in belief, age or looks.

Oh’ my senses only feel through my love for you.

May 22, 2019 6:55 AMMay 22, 2019 6:55 AM

The Dead Clock.

Blog Post About This Poem.

The pendulum of life swayed and swayed,
A rhythm predestined for us to walk, run and even cry,
The pendulum cannot be stopped by any act,
For connected to it are the wheels many connect to.

The love, guidance and teachings of parents begins,
To move that pendulum to move those wheels,
Then the schools that teach us to move the pendulum,
To move the wheels in our own ways and reasons.

Oh’ one will wish if life where a stand alone clock,
Aha’ no it is not for one clock connects to another,
In networks none figured out in philosophy and science,
And unknowingly pendulums and wheels of others we move.

Then there are clocks against the rhythms move,
Ah’ they fall apart as the wheels erratically revolves,
Uncontrolled they all break and break others too.
Oh’ those are forgotten mechanisms none can understand.

The pendulum of my clock stopped a while back,
But the wheels moved on and on unknown to me,
Then one day when your smile brightened my life,
I know the wheels of my love only turns with your moves.

May 21, 2019 10:59 AMMay 21, 2019 10:59 AM

Senseless Slow Decay.

Blog Post About This Poem.

Petals of dead flowers from trees fell,
As if in protest or Oh’ in sadness?
The wind flown from tree to tree counting,
The branches and leaves of every tree.

Watched the wind in laziness move,
Then saw a bird scratching beak with wings,
With only a slow wind the petals and leaves fallen,
Floated like a blessing from angels and fairies unseen.

Sounds of motors and crowds from far heard,
The galloping world chasing deadlines and mysteries,
Of modernity mankind defined, mankind designed,
And mankind made, and lost in pace none can handle.

The fattening sun looked as if eating cloud bales,
The escaped ones slowly moved to show an illusion,
Of blue so perfectly seen and makes wonder,
Why all the life around looks so slow in my eyes?

Mind, the place made when senses unites,
When romance builds, ah’ senses expands,
And colors it will paint, pace it will earn,
When romance fails, colors erased, pace loses.

Oh’ dear, the darling, the owner of the realm of thoughts,
Loving you gave every sense the duty to paint,
Loving you gave every sense the fuel to rush to blend,
With other senses, and to make my mind giving life its pace.

Oh’ dearest, the champion of the race in my soul,
Nothing makes sense to any sense of mine,
Without the love of yours that lingers in your heart,
And Oh’ my life’s slow decay a historical inevitability.

May 20, 2019 7:17 AMMay 20, 2019 1:50 PM

Unstoppable Merry-Go-Round.

Blog Post About This Poem – Read This Post Before Reading This Poem.

Ten thousand firecrackers blown inside clouds,
Who all rushed above to join the celebrations,
Of the world of humans waking up into a day,
Another day of life so well prepared in dark.

The sun into a bale of cloud rolled,
And unloaded the queer of arrows of rays,
On to the world but Oh’ rainy clouds took,
The beating for the world and hid day lord.

Rain and thunders and flashes of bright light,
Sounds filled the ears and wrapped the soul,
Where will the footsteps take ah’ I wondered,
Still wandered away from my own sanity.

The broken heart like a vulture pecked,
Soul I can feel walking far behind,
Like the images from a broken video played,
Memories, at times froze, broke and discontinued.

Through the muddy road caught up with me and asked,
“What was it all about? Where did we lose?”
My soul fueled the conscience to know more,
My heart beat fast to make me walk in silence.

The thunderbolt that fell right beside shook everything,
But nothing shook the broken man as nothing is there,
To break me as all is lost in the romance of life.
Walk from past to future felt like a merry-go-round.

Nothing stopped, not even the mid-may rain.
Life just broke down beyond hopes and without dreams,
The merry-go-round kept on moving with some force,
None knows what fueled it and none is there to stop it.

May 19, 2019 5:56 AMMay 20, 2019 7:22 AM

Behavioral analysis.

I have told about this many times in my many, many previous posts. This is about a person who visits my site often. I thought it is a girl I like who is my regular reader but go through the image a bit. I will explain what it is.. It comes from a Software Log created by Statcounter which is installed into WordPress. It tells me who visits my site. For privacy reasons I masked out the IP-Address of the visitor. If needed for legal purposes I can request the owner of the IP who was using it at the time of my visit and they will be made available to me and a court. As there are no specific threats to me or my sites, I don’t have to go to those extreme measures. Now without doing all that from just this picture I can tell something from the behavior of the person.

Just take the last two days May 18^th and May 19^th visits by this person. It tells you whoever is this came at 3:19 AM. So I thought wow, why would “Boss” wake up at this hour to read a post and poem? But then look at the visits on May 19^th … The visit was at 20:02 that is right before I broke my Ramadan fast.. I thought ooh, it is like this person looked at my post right before I broke fast… then I said wait a min. Look at the visit again. It is from Verizon, the phone was used not from home network. But outside, right before I broke the fast, or right before this person broke the fast in a Mosque? So I looked at the timings after that, 23:42…. the time Muslims finish the nightly prayers and probably come back home. The nightly prayers starts around 10:00 PM and usually lasts about an hour and a half. Then the next visit like the previous day was between 3:00 and 3:30 in the morning. What do Muslims do at this time? They prepare for the fasting to start… eat, drink and prepare for prayers for the fasting that starts by about 3:50AM.

So this person is a Muslim. A ouple of days back I posted three options, Boss, an associate who worked at a store me and Boss worked, I will call her Lady E for keeping her name private, then, an African American lady who worked with Boss in another store. I told I blocked the African American lady and Lady E out of my Facebook. The African American lady is a Muslim.

I am not going to make any big proclamation or anything like that. Like every other reader who comes to this website, this lady has the right to visit my site and read my poems too. I just want to let her know that, I know who you are. Enjoy the poems.

May 17, 2019 11:46 PMMay 19, 2019 6:55 PM

The Eyes That Followed.

Blog Post About This Poem – Read This Post Before Reading This Poem.

The falling rain through the minarets drooled,
As the call for prayers woke up the dawn,
Faithless grumbled in their beds and rolled,
Faithful sought blessings unknown to any soul.

When the empty streets filled with the needy,
Ah’ I took a walk against the fattening crowd,
All went to markets for one or the other reasons,
I ventured to find the unseen, untouched pulse.

Uncold rain held on to my eyelids to save,
From falling into the dirty walk ways,
Through those hanging drop I saw,
The smile of a girl in a store across the street.

I walked in and at me with no smile she stared,
As through the aisles of her small store I walked,
I know eyes of her following every move I make,
When walking out at that smile-less face again I looked.

Home sweet home ah’ welcomed me with incense smell,
The tea I brewed, ah’ the kettle whistled his sweet music,
Sweet and strong I took it with cake and nuts, sip after sip,
Nothing bothered the well paced life and life bothered none.

Life took forking ways and took me to different towns,
Years passed and still I brewed tea, sweet and strong,
Always saw in mind a dancing move that can fit,
The whistling kettle and the swaying curtains.

Then one day when days were short and cool wind howled,
Legs felt tired as age indeed got to my muscles and nerves,
A young girl came and gave a hand for me to walk across,
Her curious mind made me giggle too in her numerous queries.

When leaving me by my door one last question she asked,
“Have you ever married or fell in love in your life?”
I said “No” and walked away the little girl with a smile,
Then remembered I a smile once I stole from a smiling boss.

Ah’ felt the following eyes that followed me in that store.