Time of now is bizarre and strange
by , 10-21-2013 at 04:36 AM (2947 Views)
Time of now is bizarre and strange
MMA poems
Iraqi translator
Time of al- Mutanbi was gone away
Remote time never comes again
Never shall we battle with swords or javelins…
Never shall we have horses to cross the desert…
Never shall we wait that time to return…
Time of now is bizarre and strange….
Those men of dated history have their good deed…
Look! Now we are tumbling in our affairs….
Fallen in mistake, we want to be pioneers!
As closed window, we halt in the hell…
Formerly we sat beside a river, inhaling its breeze…
What can we do to our desire if it is lame?
Many people knowing not but to intrude selfishly…
Yet there is moon and there is sky….
Into my shadowy curtain, it lights the door…
I woke up to see the sun thriving in my yard….
Looks like my pink roses would endow me a new dream…
However, I am betrayed by others, still I am strong….
That's my life and I shan't ask others help….
Universal time, nothing from it, I do expect…
Nothing hath guided me but only my feet….
Nothing will help me but only my God…
That's why I do not trust others to be friends…
That's why I do not trust each moment comes….
That's why I avoid myself not to be fallen in mistake…
That's why I consider all things to be my foes….
Is there a bit of reality in this world?
Therefore, we cannot leave out our life to be randomly.
Yearning and desire converted to be a thick ocean as I see…
Truth and honour are just awkward thoughts….
Cursed life never will be adjusted then….
Never will it become straight then…
Even the birds of now chant at a spaceless sadness…
Even the pooch never will bark in front of house….
Even the cat never mews beside the fire stove…
Never can we see a nightingale sings delightedly…
Even the bee never has it had honey nectar….
However, I shall go away to my purpose and seek….
Give me thy thin eyes and I shall teach you how to speak…
Close me thy shoulder and I shall teach you how to dance…
Nevertheless, you recognize until you learn my words…
Harsh words and harsh sentiment gives me back…
Never can it thrive our way to be brightish once more.
Hundred of poems I can poetize every week
Neither I got malady nor do I feel weak…
What do those lame verses can do now?
From a dated word, we derive a new one…
Therefore, it will be suitable to our contemporary time…
Many years I do my job jibbing in what I concern.
I would refuse the calm not to be a hullabaloo of misery.
People never will settle peace but to quarrel themselves.
Aren’t you calling thyself to be the blight of our place?
Not I am the man who has grim hand…
But to do my job with a new activity I shall look.