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صورتي
يامن سألتِ الناس عني إنني = رجلٌ جنون العشق في صفحاتي

الاثنين، 22 أغسطس، 2011

you find the letters lots for me


you find the letters  lots for me
few letters
the line .. and the ink of pen
and the word dispel all fear
you find the letters  lots for me




How much you are vile

If my absence changing you
How much you are fiddling
If I become hate remember you
How much you are tough
Why does your heart doesn't have mercy
you find the letters  lots for me


How much messages I wrote to you
And you lost the message
How much of the lintel
And the silence was your response
Today . I ripped the message
Because the meeting became impossible
I admit I forced myself
When I collected
My sorrow , love , memories
the message parts
And even you
And put them in the right place
In the garbage …


the Poet :master of words


Ink


Ink
Of 
our Tears
it
's our groans that we write
But it's Overcome and write us
 as If the black lines
our ribs
and the Inkwell
as if as it's The heart 
who Hurts us
And the pen has become knife
Tearing us
scatter us
cut our black ribs
Looking for inkwell
To 
Killing us
And steal from us voluntarily
our pain
to write the pain and write us
the summary of Grieving pain
& Love
was hurts us
& take the sleep from our eyes
so someone comes to bless us
And  Praise us
On something hurts us
 that we Call it's
our Poems ..

the Poet :master of words