Hooman Anvari
Like the mist of morning, like the calm of night, Where there is magic, nature reveals destinies plight, I long to hold you, to be with you near, But my heart aches as my dreams echo your mystic magic whispering in my ear, Can a woman be so majestic and so infinitely true? The truth is my love, I have only ever desired one such as you. What words can describe your beauty? What pen dare attempt to replicate in thought and paper the gift of love you inherently possess:- the essence of your eyes, the redolence of your lips, the feminism of your style, the magic your heart beats. My love, in my own despair, My heart longs for this feeling which can be found nowhere. This mystic power which hypnotizes my reason, Can only give way to my confidences treason. How long I have melted beneath your radiant magic, ... please my dear love, don't end our fate tragic, If promises are promises and my honor your trusts virtue, Never doubt my sincerity, for I could never hurt you, And if wishes are only wishes which can never come true, Then don't wish for anything for my sincerity is for you, And if my honesty is not as pure as the gold that you think, Then allow me to unravel love's power with the blessing of your wink. Oh! If only you were to grasp the extent my imagination portrays you for, Your sweet love is my desire, I can ask for no more, My sweet love, you will never find a heart more true, My only desire is your absent days fewer, From my soul cries a message so loud and so clear, I only want to be with you - in my arms hold you near, Please take my hand and I'll comfort you dear, Love builds on love and truly casts out all of fear. Sometimes my mind dries up this passion of hope so true, My dear love, I have insecurities of my chances with you, I have dreams of your rose lips, your perfect window eyes, Oh my sweet nightingale, what have you to hide? If you love me then blast this trumpet of fate, The direction our love enters we will architect, and destiny a new dimension take. I cannot sleep at nights wondering why I love you so, I pray God grant me strength as to let my wisdom grow, For many times I've pondered whether you feel the magicians blessing so strong, It can make mortals lovers and lovers can do no immortal wrong. One thing I am certain, this I promise you now, Of my sincerity and loyalty, none can ever match the beauty of your brow, So take my hand my dear and together we'll reach out to the mystery above, For we have the blessing of our fate, as you are my one and only true love.
Like the mystery of the crescent moon, My dreams rhythmic atmosphere radiates love's tune, I can feel my sweetheart's eloquence stirring my longing soul, Her responding desire only time will unfold, As my mind's eye reflects past passions of crime, The question appears `Can perfection be divine?' And then an angel gently whispers through the softness of my sleep:- "Don't let love pass, it's all yours to keep, And as to your love's response, its not as immortal as it seems, Destiny can be carved through the shadow of your dreams, For love such as this surely never dies, Search deep your heart and there the answer lies, Destiny and fate both await the fragrance of love's mould, As once prophesied by the magicians of old." Upon waking, fortunes favors eroded my inhibition prompting such a dare, For no-where on earth can beauty be found so rare, For somewhere within such a vast universe untold, My sweetheart's love for me reciprocates the desire of my soul.
The midnight wind bloweth thy way, With its comfort every man still scares away, As every fair minded one can see, People yearn for education and yet are still not free, The tornado of power and lust scares our minds, Yet our hearts cry for hope, for love, for a soul, We can try to achieve until we cannot try no more, Then do we realize we have still yet to score, The night is like ignorance, it showeth no way, Until truths light manifests the way and only then is born the nature of day, Knowledge is a mystery, it hath definite power, We explore in depth to build up this tower, But when we drown in consumption and bleed from the heart, Our reasoning feels we are back to the start, So what is the difference between life and death? Is this harvest of reasoning our only true wealth? Both these consequences destine us all, But what of its essence that rises and falls? Deaths mysterious understanding lies not in power, But what we make of life, every hour, What treasured mystery can comprehend its might? The fact is that death is life's shadow, it flourishes with light, The evolution of doubt has decomposed faiths harvest of growth, Like a diamond, we are of value but compose of nothing but charcoal, Where is this eternal bliss thou promised? Is it now, is it later, is it honest? God, the almighty source above, Where is your vision, your grandeur and love? We are starving, we are crying, we are as nights darkened moon, Yet we have our vision, grandeur and love, but what is the tune? Perhaps as human beings we appreciate the turmoil of life, On other planets and stars is their voice strife? Its like a dark mirror we see ourselves head-to-toe, How much of the mirror we trust, we'll never know, God, is not faith the mirror image of your glory? Once told by your prophets in all their stories ... This darkness is likened to a night with no moon or star, Its ignorance, its wealth, its indeed that scar But in our struggle we search to find eternal true love, The harder we search the longer it takes, We give up hope, but our fragile desires never wake, We become torn into two; one side is a lover and the other a hater, Then once again unto the heavens we turn, unto our Creator, We breathe our final anguish as our mind tears us apart, It gives birth to a remedy which was needed from the start, There were no visions, no signs, no false mirror images so smart, Its just that we realize we've finally lost our heart, And so the avenue of death haunts us as we approach its gate, Who will be first, who will enter, who will have to wait? Like a shadow that only haunts us at the hour, Where should we turn to absorb all that power? This must be where our salvation lies, The midnight wind ... it sees us and cries ...
The ardent hope and desire of two people reflects the child's birth, The rising dawn witnesses embryonic existence unearth, Yet within such a small stature so pure and divine, Tomorrow's leader is contained, developing and ripening through time, For today the child is innocent and a victim of nature's restrains, Tomorrow nature's innocence will tarnish the child's name, As history reveals societies morbid intolerance and scorn, The two parents ponder together fates unfolding dawn ...
Since conception, relentless rearing they so gave, Trespassing on freedom and understanding from age-to-age, Unappreciative of our livelihoods they so innocently steered, Our souls tormented solitude's weeping manifested as fear, From time everlasting our consciousness pondered the motives of those `watchful eyes', Our mind even questioned primitive attitudes of those so wise, We even considered rebellion against those who `family authority lies', Until age dawned and our mind unraveled those motives in disguise, For what else had their intention been right from the very start? Except that of love and protection of their offspring's own heart? As we later scorn wisdom's blind advice manifesting our hearts past rage, We feel guilt and mourn the parents we now crave, In solitude we hope our parents can now see how we behave, Unaware of the two angels above us whispering to our name:- "Fear not our children, our love is not contained in the grave, We are alive and will continuously guide you, reciprocating the happiness you once gave."
Mountains may be lofty and high, But valleys carry the waters of the sky, And as we bless the grandeur we perceive, We fail acknowledgment of the blessing at our feet, For were we to ponder upon the mysterious valleys so meek, Our wisdom would only curse us and weep, And as humanity blesses the mountains it perceives, It breeds none other than superstition and greed, Frustration transforms to turmoil as we construct illus ional patterns of power, honor and fame, Neglecting to harmonize perfection by name, For who else but the `illumined' hold the keys to our blame? "That" whispers an angel "was the prophecy of them that once came." So as we tremble in guilt and quench our thirst from the valley of man-made lies, A touch of inspiration quickens us as we receive once again the waters of the sky
In an ancient land where strength was measured by the skill of the sword, lived a young poor child, He was a carpenter's son and held opposing views to that of the current sinful and ignorant majority. He was different to all and destiny directed Him to 'raise the dead' amongst men.
The 'dead' symbolizes the essence of the people who were blinded from the Divine Light in society as a result of materialism and greed.
In society, a fine distinction exists between the 'living' and the 'dead.' In the case of the latter, it is likened to a graveyard upon which God alone through His mercy can revive its patrons.
His story is as follows: -
It was the wisest of men that Divine Light guided them to He, Of all nations of earth, they were the wisest three, This Blessed Soul appeared to answer laws divine, His path was mysterious, the purest one could find,
"Faith I shall find and all God's given strength," the carpenter's son once said, And holding the sword of comfort, slept tight at night in bed, But this poor but humble Man reflects back on His potent life, Many times He was in danger, He was poor, He was in strife,
But the kingdom this Man came from had no gratifying justice, Only wealthy ruling the poor and promising freedom by saying "trust us," It was a time when blood was worthless and only the noble had the wealth, That is why the seed of determination inside His heart flourished- To posses the value and balance of His life's gratifying health,
His Father had once said to Him that 'man is made in God's image," This he remembered, it was His driving force, His soul's hope was never damaged,
Then he felt inside that He needed to go, Where He would go He did not know, but His heart felt it would be His only chance to grow, Though the people scoffed Him leaving, little did they know, It would be this Man whose heart was filled with Light that they would turn to whether friend or foe,
The absence of this Man stretched from year to year, They saw nothing of Him, but of His popularity reached their ear, Far away in a distant land He had become His own king, Not by punishing His people, but by fairness ruling over everything, And soon this humble carpenter's son built an empire of His own, By day, by night, He made people welcome; they felt it was their home,
When word reached His hometown, the leaders were skeptical to believe, That after a simple lifetime, a man no more than a carpenter's son had an empire under heed, His advice to the deteriorating kingdom He once called His own, (That ruled by the sword and not the pen, which caused Him to leave home) was: -
"By sword and malice you have ruled, but never made any haste, Now I tell you people, your lives are all at waste, For nothing more than faith and love can an empty kingdom reject, This I cannot tolerate, to this My soul objects,"
This simple man who could not even afford to live in comfort believed in words so pure, The angel of love was His dominion and through material detachment did His nobility endure.
One night the ruler of the original land sunk deep into a haunting vision, It was not one of love he saw; it resembled the mirror image of treason, Upon waking he looked around and it was obvious his own kingdom was collapsed, Then as jealousy grew into hate, he remembered his enemy's reason,
For the carpenter's son had prophesied "once your empire sinks down low yours will be a nightmare, Just look at yourself and acknowledge your fore fathers ignorance, Only if you do so will your misguidance impair!"
And although this ghost haunted him, he still did not change, He walked in the ancient shadow of punishment, his thirst was filled with rage,
Now wishing to torture this Man of free will, They send for His blood, they wanted Him killed,
Upon arrival, this Man in chains, close to death and so weak, Was able to murmur some words as He tried to speak,
"O king, your answer for leadership comes not from punishing me hither, The simple truth is my friend, every time you look at yourself, you will see Me in the mirror!"
Then to the sky's He glanced and was heard to utter in anguish: -
"…Their request from past ages has been for Your words so divinely true, Punish them not, O Lord, for they know not what they do…"
And so as this humble son of a carpenter was laid to rest, A generation stood thirsting for guidance from someone else…
As the mountains corroded into valleys and stars dwindled into a dimmer, The passing generations ponder as to what happened to this 'life-giver's' return, For He had promised He would return from mountains up high, From land-to-land and sea-to-sea His presence would draw nigh,
In the veil of expectation His disciples awaited His return from "the Light," But their eagerness failed to recall His words "I will return unto you like a thief in the night…"
And so as the spirit of human anticipation glances to the skies regretfully, It ponders to itself 'why are all men made equal, even in the cemetery?'
Man's reasoning was innocent but his heart unfocussed, Causing the abyss of ignorance to dry the divine well of water which our souls thirst for in need, The acts so worthy of a divine Prince were not laid and buried to decompose, they were freed,
So where was this Soul who wore the crown of virtue and possessed all the glory, honor and fame? To this the angel of truth testifies: -
"It lies within the graveyard of civilization, and you saw it many times but did not recognize: - it was the grave with no name…"
All pages, content, poems, and writings on this site are copyright©1998 Distracted Poets. Redistribution in any media is strictly prohibited without written permission. To get permission please email brian@distractedpoets.com