Long Masnavi Poems
Long Masnavi Poems. Below are the most popular long Masnavi by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Masnavi poems by poem length and keyword.
My muse keeps pestering like a cenobite,
chewing my brain like a hungry parasite.
Pressuring the ink to bleed like acid rain,
catharsis to release perpetual pain.
Hiding poems that live rent free like boarders,
I'm a shadow slave refusing it's orders.
This elusive euphoria sounds absurd,
because I'm silent in my clandestine world.
My pen has froze in this salacious summer,
ignoring mental murderous moon's mummer.
My faithful muse, why don't you abandon me,
can't you see I have no time for poetry.
I've fallen free without words, feeling too deep,
please do not disturb me, I just want to sleep.
Regret….
I flew once in a field full of flowers,
a field that was kissed by April showers.
I tasted all the jasmines, as they were new,
I did bathe on a leaf in a little dew.
I was always busy playing till midnight,
I woke up, and I was not sure of my sight.
I was a bird soaring as high as a hawk.
Flying like a wind, with the wind, had a talk.
I turned into the wind and then to a cloud,
A dark cloud with the sound of thundering loud.
I turned into the rain after being cloud,
quenching the deserts with silvery shroud.
I turned into river, and then to a sea,
even as water I was able to see.
I turned into a fish, perfectly aware,
knowing that my lover was surely out there.
Swimming like a fish, my world became cold,
I lost my will to live, and soon I got old.
I heard a nightingale calling me at night,
telling me that being a man would be alright.
I turned into a man in search of wisdom,
hoping that love and peace would rule the kingdom.
A lot of years have passed with my broken heart,
I could not find the peace; I needed a new start.
I will change back again to look for my love;
maybe a lamb or sheep, maybe a white dove.
I will look everywhere until it is found.
I know it’s there for me if I look around.
Until then, I’ll become laughter to a child,
or maybe dandelions that grow wild.
2/19/2016
Haloo
The Life Is …
The Life Is …
When I was young, there was no pain,
The only pain was to complain.
When I was young, I did not care,
Just as long as my love was there.
When I was young, my life was great.
But I was there a bit too late.
A bit too late to know life was,
being young and having no flaws.
A bit too late to celebrate,
What I had then was called my fate.
Now it’s different, weather is cold,
I turned into a man that’s old.
The spring has passed, summer is gone,
Autumn at rest, winter is on.
I am too old and know it’s gone.
It is too dark to hope for dawn.
Now I know that a part of life,
It is old age and lives with strife.
Now I know that my life is not,
The perfect plan when I had thought.
The life is not the silken dress,
Unmarked from flaws, full of success.
My life is just a song I sing,
It is winter chasing the spring.
It is sorrow, it is laughter,
It is hope for morning after.
My life is just a long poem,
Had a young star; none would know him.
The life is just a shooting star,
It is so bright but can’t go far.
Blink your eyes; it’s all be gone,
I played this game like a faceless pawn.
I played so well; somehow, I lost.
You don’t want me to count my cost.
My life is like a field of dream,
Or maybe like a moonlit stream.
My life is like a drop of dew,
Waiting the Sun to say adieu.
My life is like the dew at dawn,
The sun will kiss; it will be gone.
My life is not to be just young,
It is okay to be unsung.
My life is like the morning breeze,
It can bring storms or bring you ease.
You are hoping for one more dream,
That wakes you up in golden gleam.
The life is like a candle’s flame,
It lights up love or burns to blame.
The games are on, and the moves are fast.
I do not know how long they last.
For some, it’s short; for some, it’s long.
Go have more fun; it is not wrong.
Remember now, it might get late,
Go play your move before checkmate.
10/2/2019
Haloo
Note: The painting is called “A reminder”; it’s acrylic on wood.
Note: This style of poetry is called "Masnavi"; it is the spiritual couplets. This particular masnavi consists of eight syllables in each line. Poetrysoup has a great explanation and example of this form of poetry.
Marred and minced remnants pile high in a storm’s swarm
Yesterdays, hardened-soft, surface where sea’s warm…
Flotsam found, lays tales around, in frayed traces
Another shattered shell whimpers of graces
vying with the sea-swept sands: gloss embossed fades…
Ocean’s dead! These are castaways of Hades,
rid of depth, stranded upon the dry shallow
Interred where the sun bleaches out the shadows
till whitened ivory fills cavern’s echo:
enmeshed lime, crunching upon errors callow
Jazz died - June’s sun sank into august abyss…
Undertow currents ceased their torments of bliss
Nipped life, silenced like frothing foam vacuum-sealed,
kept smothered in an opaque ocean congealed…
Yard junked, Neptune’s home’s now a derelict mess
and yet he clings to the crap amassed, crownless
Right always, up to the end --------- that no return.
Death will erase the un-sunk bones when they burn
(10/3/2019: '90 Sea Ray DA 350; Discovery Park; ‘my favorite junkyard’)
Part Thirty — The Story's End
Sweet Giti, gem in heaven's ring,
Stayed true in love through everything.
Her heart she gave to her dear flame,
Soul's companion, love's sweet name.
And Saeed—behold his blessed state!
Though challenged by his cruel fate,
Hear how his trials came to bear
His faithful heart, worn down by care.
Despite the wounds and aching soul,
From strangers' scorn and kin's control,
Praise be! The face of peace he found,
His shirt of sorrow torn and drowned.
He bound his heart to lover's hair,
Escaped the world's cold, harsh despair.
In joy they lived, in laughter bright,
Their sacred vows, their hearts alight.
Two bodies but one soul complete,
In love's sweet street they found their beat.
No more "Giti" or "Saeed" to name,
Just Wine and Cup, one heart, one flame.
____________________________________
Thus ends the tale of love's sweet art,
Where two souls joined to make one heart.
Hero’s game ….
I want to know, how should I play?
What are the rules, day after day?
I want to know, where is it gone?
What was it there that’s gone with dawn?
I want to know, how can I speak?
When it’s not there, what is to seek?
How do I praise if I can’t see?
Falls out of sight, how could it be?
How did I play? I lost the game!
I played my part; who is to blame?
Searching for it morning and night,
Insist to win, hoping for light.
How do I know? Maybe I’m sleep.
Dreaming so deep, deeper than deep.
How do I know when I am done?
He will be there brighter than sun.
Hoping to be gentle and kind,
Love is the one I want to find.
Love is the one for me to win,
But lost so fast; let me give in.
I am so lost,, not knowing why,
What is to see with blinded eye?
What is this thing that shines so bright?
Guiding my life through shades of night.
Maybe there is a heavenly spark.
Even for me, searching in dark.
If all secrets unveil themselves,
Then, no fear, we give ourselves.
Don’t ask me now what will be there,
When I am done, then ask me where.
Until that day, silence, I choose,
No matter what, this game, we lose.
My heart and soul; they ache to find,
Even a glimpse, I do not mind.
11/5/2017 Haloo
Cat and mouse
Within a garden somewhere out there,
butterflies were dancing free from care.
Thousands of flowers loving the dance,
love the lovers and loving romance.
A lot of butterflies full of lust,
drinking and dancing in love they trust.
Daffodil pitchers filled with the wine,
drinking that wine was wholly, divine.
Roses and jasmines fully bloomed,
enchanted aromas sweetly perfumed.
From its hiding a devious mouse,
saw the butterflies right from his house.
He ran to the garden, chased the fly,
grabbed him tightly, bit him to die.
Ate him like candy tenderly sweet,
the smell of jasmines made it complete.
Loving his food and loving its taste,
the mouse was happy nothing got waste.
Until he saw a ghostly shape,
scary giant, he couldn’t escape.
There was a cat with a smiley face,
growled and meowed and started the chase.
Running like wind, he didn’t gave in,
hunting for food is never a sin.
He grabbed the mouse in a playful way,
ate him so fast then rested all day.
The mouse tasted like jasmine and rose,
the flavor of butterfly joined with those.
The cat was happy and licked his paws,
adored his power sharpened his claws.
Until the next day there was a dog,
with big shaggy tail, fat like a hog.
Ugly and old he ran after cat,
hunted the cat and ate him like rat.
The dog was old and his fate foretold,
he died in winter when air was cold.
He died and buried and turned to dust
nothing can escape from time and rust.
The months have passed and years gone by,
what else can we do except comply?
Living and dying is a part of life.
Life and death are in constant strife.
The flesh of the dog made the jasmines grew,
butterflies came with their lives renew.
Roses and lilies grew one more time,
butterflies dancing, dancing in rhyme.
Another mouse and another cat,
the playful cat, that ate up the rat.
Another dog and another feast,
after a while the death chose the beast.
Life is a circle, circle like a chain.
Everything goes and comes back again.
There will be death for me and you,
like roses and jasmines lives renew.
3/12/16 Haloo
The Puzzle
Who is knocking on my door?
How much longer to ignore?
How much longer to pretend?
No more power to defend.
I am hiding in my room.
No more courage to assume.
No more courage when you are old.
No more summer, only cold.
Who is knocking on my door?
Silence speaks, words ignore.
Living, frightened, not knowing why?
Certain, not sure, living or die.
Hiding in the darkness, not seeing light;
better for a blind living at night.
Where is my courage? Gone with age!
Over and over, flew from the cage.
As often as I have done before,
not knowing who is knocking the door?
Why, like a child, I crawl and hide;
under the shadows, saving my pride.
Who is the one knocking again?
Causing my world to shatter with pain.
To open the door, not knowing who;
Nothing is clear; what can I do?
Turning the knob, fearful with daze,
cannot find a way out of this maze.
I opened the door and saw the light;
No longer darkness filling the night.
My son was knocking, knocking my door,
Love makes sunshine hard to ignore.
Happy, laughing, no more pain,
No more sadness or gone insane.
If your puzzle is resolved,
All your problems will be solved.
Haloo
6/7/15
The vastness of it all mi
ancestors the shores of
pastel climbing beneath
my feet essence of Veneto
the wildness of black cherries
bluntness of plums strings
of grapes opened just so
found behind a glass of
Merlot singing lemoncello
crowding tastes buds through
rows of lemon trees crawling
olive branches sweeping the
stone ways a covenant of mi
Nonna dancing throughout
Rome mi ancestors Mason
Veneto builders an yet
cemeteries where religious
statues buildings tombstones
are crafted by the blood
of my ancestors hands
all over Italy the vastness
of it all remembering
mi Nonna remembering Rome
Standing there wearing
Baileys holding a Glass
of Cognac I notice your
time piece Kremlin findings
as you calmly approached
my shyness I recognised
the untimely gesture leaving
my quarters knowing full
well beruit was near you
offered yourself with no
strings an yet bombs sounded
throughout the night time
air I was taken an yet
startled King we were taken
to stone slabs draped with
teal fabric peppermint oils
garments of silk I wore you
into the night while we
cringed with fright the town
emptied the tower tumbled
I kelp yours smile in view
as your body crumbled into
the rumble of yesterday I
awakened to the sound of
the sun rising in the east
as I returned to blood
soaked carnage absent
from heaven remembering
only your touch your warmth
your illuminated essence burning
my soul whispering dasvidanyia
from Russia with love