PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

I am lonesome, thousands and thousands of miles away,

From my beloved and the night is so cold, so long,

Every moment of prolonged loneliness is having its effect,

And I don't know, for how much more this ache, my being affect.



I have lived, as I presume, two thirds of my life,

With so many wishes still clinging by my side,



So many dreams that some uncommon children like me have,

And the sufferings mocking me, as a proud master, his slave.



I have seen my parents toiling hard to make both ends meet,

Yet never allowing me ever to be disturbed during sleep.



And now after an online chat with my beloved fairest lady,

I feel more lonely as I think of the promise I must keep.



Not to go near the drinks that somewhat soothe me,

Or even near anything that makes the mind foggy,



Yet, the wintry night with its seemingly endless stars,

Makes me want to drink and drink deep -- just to be merry.



To feel unburdened and, for a change, unclasp the chains,

Of every past bitterness, deceptions, heartaches and pains,



I look inside my mind's eye and I see my beloved's face,

Smiling at me as if saying: "I love you dearest, so please refrain.



From the alluring charms of the red and white wine bottles,

As they only lift your spirits a bit and then slowly throttle,



The very fibre of your being, the vibrant energy of your soul"

And I smile at myself along with her till I hear time's whistle.



The movie on television is interesting ...so my son says,

It is a love story of a Pakistani man and an Indian girl's grace,



I turn around somewhat shaken from my train of thoughts,

And try to watch the movie even though my mind's lost...



My aged and widowed mother is suffering so much silently,

To find a man for my sister, a man who wants her only,



Yet there is no such man decent enough to be found,

Who can take my sister's hand like a husband, not a hound.



And then I think about my children who are quite wise and deep,

That they give their thoughts no tongue nor do their eyes weep.



Yet I know deep inside within my very own subconscious mind,

That they want to be cared for and loved, like others of their kind.



I want to go out of the room now and see if the moon is up,

So that I may smoke a fag and lift my dampened spirits up.



Yet the fearful howl of the Eastern Wind tells me: "Stay inside,

And think of her who awaits you on the other side."



Beyond the tide, my beloved....right here by my side

My MFSM knows that as each day passes me I am on a fast hours-ride.*



My longing for her is increasing and so is my passion,

Driving me crazy and this is now much more than often.



My MFSM also knows how I loved and lost my Daphne,

For she is introspective and even though past the sea.



She is the one who, with the magic of her pure love,

Saved me from drowning and that too with one "Bravo!"



She is cute, she is kind, she is my gorgeous "wonder-woman",

Who has the knacks and resolve to save me from extinction.



"I am so much tired MFSM", this I want to tell her,

"I need your love, O my beloved, to carry on further."



She is if I may say so the last of a very rare breed,

Among women, she's THE WOMAN, and the best one, indeed!



I want to be with her or somehow make her come here,

So that I may shed my tears and overcome my torture.



The unexplained sorrows of my childhood and my youth,

Will rest my head on her lap and share a smile of pure cheer.



I am tired, I am fed up, but somehow I haven't lost hope,

And keep struggling for those who need me like a strong rope.



A strong rope that binds firmly the knot of all family ties,

And my very inner self tells me MSFM will console all my cries.



So I pull out a fag from the cigarette box and light it up,

Praying to my Allah Almighty to respond to my sighs.



Then, I remember suddenly, the movie* in which Marilyn Monroe,

While living for her son meets her man where a river does flow.



Then I also recall other movies like ""Shane" and "Mogambo".

And "The Misfits", "Hamlet" and  "The mark of Zorro".



And then I find myself humming Mary Hopkins and Amy Lee,

Al  Stewart, Chris de Burgh,  and Elvis Presley.



And then it dawns on me that I want to be with my loved one,

My very own MFSM, who rules over a "Magic Kingdom".



O my heart, let me not break my word of shunning liquor,

For if I do so I may forget myself, but not her...never, ever!



The blackness of the night is like a fresh and keen dark wound,

And the yellow and dim moonlight reveals a sliced hidden mound.



A huge mass of fire and darkness known as the "Horsehead Nebula",

Roaring with her flames across space along with "Medussa".



I am, my beloved MFSM asserts, her "Ardent Orion",

The mythological Greek "Hunter" now high on the horizon.



And to me she is "Venus", the symbol of beauty and love,

The "Adorable Aphrodite" who bedazzles all vision and illusion.



I marvel at the vast canopy of old heroes and heroines,

Lighting up the sky...reminders of glories and even ruins.



Then my vision goes farther and farther to an unending mansion,

Where Andromeda a queen of Greece is now a galaxy of fusion.



And around her I see "Cassiopeia", another Greek female icon,

Who wanted "Perseus" and "Andromeda" to find find bliss in union.



I also see "The Plough", the "North Star" and hazy "Pericles",

And Taurus and Algol, with Gemini and Aldebaran.



I try to seek out the famous tragic lovers of Troy,

Troilus, Cressida, and Achilles with his brave caravan.



Slowly my imagination and fascination return to Earth,

And I recall the love stories of tragedy mingled with mirth.



Of Paris and Helen and other lovers lying forgotten,

And those who died for them, some less-known humans.



And of Laila and Majnoo* of the land of Arabia,

And of Farhad and Shireen*, the princess of Persia.



I also recall how Punjab's Ranjha and Heer died for love's sake,

For true and divine love dispelling that their love was fake.



I then remember Sohni and Mahinwal and their love for each other,

In the land now known as Pakistan, once a land along a river.



And then I feel how Mirza and Sahiban of this very land,

Also perished for love as their passion resounds in the sand.



Finally I get up, my  fag has fagged off, while I was away on a trip,

Researching the sky's myths told by the likes of Homer's lips.  



And as I think and ponder more about how even my life craved,

For true love more than anything else and how I for Daphne prayed.



Then I start missing the woman, my divine yet womanly MFSM,

Who made me get over my past and made me a stronger human.



And all that she has done for me is, I am proud to say, her accomplishment,

And this makes me miss her even more as only she can relieve my torment.



As time goes by, the call for pre-dawn prayer floats on the wings of air,

I pray silently and respectfully to Allah, my God beyond compare.



To include His Will and Grace in the love I and MFSM share,

And bring us together and unite me and my children with MFSM my lady fair.



For, I am certain that our love for each other is beyond doubt true,

And I add: "O God, bless us all with success and happiness too."