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Best Poems Written by Jamal Abboud

Below are the all-time best Jamal Abboud poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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I Will Always Remember

I will always remember,
to persuade myself to forget,
something of random regret,
for ancient images still linger.

Distilled from dreams of days, 
When I was silent and younger,
creeping dearly to be a stranger,
Thinking I decided novel ways,

Images those meddle duly in vain,
To bring me back my innocence, 
 My fancies and sighs of indolence. 
But what passed, brings more pain. 

When perception tends to be late,
Manipulated by unclouded choice,
with a sound taken for a voice.
Far drifted, I loaf on paths to fate.

 Thus feeble, I float on a logic flood,
Lost among places like paradise,
With acrid tales of open blind eyes,
Reciting words those swiftly scud.

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Flow Slow

Flow slow through thy bitter life
Cross gently, and fancy fiery strife;
Float in dark silence without a wing,
There is time to melt till ardent spring.

Thy love, vision, grief and desire
Are sweet seeds for earth’s fire,
In a world of doubt and despair, 
Where pity and mercy are so rare.

In thy heart, thy soul dost weep,
And look where thou vainly creep, 
With faint innocence and sad tears
Thy feet are weighed by dreamy years.

Triumph thy pains in aware quietness,
A flower exchange life for a dew caress,
Though it hides her bless in tiny seeds,
 Then perish humbly with eternal creeds.

Blind thy eyes to aches and wittily live,
And forget, ignore, and cordially forgive;
And forsake  the wealth of daily pleasure,
Content’s Treasure has heavenly measure.

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Love

Love! Love! Great love’s incidence, 
Plotted by one’s own fate coincidence,
Without roots of peerless confidence,
Sprouts buds that soothe wary hearts
The life of the sweetest song starts,
That delicious becomes the whisper,
Glances, silent lips, and warm murmur,
The smiles, and every sudden gesture, 
This time, that place in fall and winter,
Past, present and uncertain future,
All what love allows them to say, 
Though between trust and doubt sway,
They believe promises their own way,
They are what they are, and remain,
Waiting in colors of passion to gain,
Their right of divine sweetness and pain 
From the very time of unknown existence.

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When You Whisper

The word, the same word you often whisper,
Takes me where sweet dreams murmur,
Analyzed all in the heart, I eagerly listen,
And thoughts of pleasant days never lessen,
And pulses of warm sighs in mind glisten,
Swifter than passionate stormy guesses,
Haunted by the joy the heart never misses,
I think of you, my tender heart and mind,
My love and friend and best my soul can find.
I have, at a gentle time, your beauty received,
Brave and charmed, my soul adored you,
In every temper following your fragrance clue,
To each born hour, wherever I can view
Your beauty aging, passing years on bare feet,
No other sight can ever have more delightful beat,
In my chest, throbs of kindled sensation on fire,
Unchanging ardor mingles with your own desire.

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Rose

Rose
He grew up lonely with his soundless shadow,
Like a star, in the middle of a far vast meadow,
A low light twinkled from his shack’s window
To tell about his sullen solemn presence,
All night, he slept, but the light remained a reference,
A deliberate language to declare his presence,
A spirit of a person in a far-off existence.
Wreathed not with the joy of a guest’s sight
Enduring his motionless future fairly light.

A roving girl saw him once, once no more,
Yet still imagined his scene every morn and night
Tempted by affection and pacified by her right,
Unexpectedly, she knocked at his ancient door,
Then left leaving a red rose on the blackened floor,
While he was in bed before the rise of an earthly sound,
‘Thank you, lover,’ cried he for the rose he found,
Then ate the petals sitting on the cold ground,
He was forever amused by their slight bitterness,
To wilt in a vase, to him, was of bitterest sadness,

Full of life, every morning, he ate an acrid flower,
On the door, he fixed a note welcoming the stranger,
whispering to himself,’ The note is much better.’
Watching all night was a desire, even more than love,
spending most of the night outdoors in cold weather,
Until the day he didn’t find his passion’s motive,
He yielded to his old life, yet so eager to live
excusing her every morning for her realistic decision after all,
He never knew what people in town did say,
About the death of a girl in pursuit of a rose,
In a wild land, she fell and fell and never rose,
For him, he regretted eating the roses, petals and soul.

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She Came

She came, a naked beauty without a name,
Searching a vessel of love's fragrance,
Though vessels are-if falsified- not the same,
Love's lure sails in silence and bore
Certainly each onto a different shore,
Like the one she searched to achieve her fate,
Of a heart that was burned by lights of lies,
Breathed blowing the sails into bed of paradise,
Swiftly to the dream, photographed in her eyes,
Yet like all dreams, each had awakening tale,
Her face could tell the thoughts that were hovering,
Blooming sweats of mute repentance,
O, old songs told about this harrowing experience,
Of shining mirage of love for centuries,
Of lore's vessels without conscience,
Haunting traveler's hearts with obscure innocence,
O, I perceived her wish, yet could not translate,
But colorless hints upon the tongue were quivering,
For her trip was done, and the daring heart was late.

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I Live For You

I live for you, a feeble flame,
You live for me, a yellow dim light;
I flare dancing on a wax thread,
While you travel straight ahead;
A free light around my warm flame,
As far as the darkness boundaries allow,
As we were decades before, we are now;
I melt and carelessly burn my years,
And trickle down with my hot tears;
Waiting for you to illuminate my world, 
Which is dark, which is bitterly cold
To be immersed with our quiet love scene,
Which can be noticed, which can be seen,
But when dawn breaks bright.
And my flame is blown out;
The life we have lived so tight
Becomes a candle's illusion by name,
And a fancy of desire, which has right.

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My Thoughts Undulate Like Not Seas

MY thoughts  undulate like not seas,
In depth sway lovely images at ease,
They come with shallow fancies without end,
And swing with shadows slowly increase,
Love crumbles under my lofty bed,
While foam of sin floats in my head,
Nakedness creeps up the wall without tongue,
And females ' ghosts –pretend to be young,
tapping and whispering at the door,
And in the mirror are installed even more,
And the smothered chimney breathes black hair,
While still in the stove dreamingly stare
At hot burning logs like legs,
And radiance of bright eyes lie down in fire,
Nothing can be more persistent than desire,
To tempt the soul to the world of sin,
But in my chamber reality does always win;
It seems I fancy ripe beauty in my misery,
To celebrate blossoms of haughty victory.

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Love and Curse

Upon  the yellow soul of love, I quietly wept
Beneath the hand of fate, 
wreathed with fancies without a spirit;
and I knew all and all about it.
Yet  nothing questioned about it
Bathing reposefully in gentle torture,
Not a man nor an intelligible creature,
Captivated in this vessel like a body in nature
In four legged form that resembled bed
Long ago ,in this world, I never slept ,
Yet I reckoned death sometimes descended,
No doubt to conquer my chest,
And those times  was better if not the best,
There I relaxed as emptiness permit. 
Withdrawn to what I heard,
As my soul voiced what I felt,
Those are cursed know love not,
Yet those love not, they know not they are cursed,
And those, who love, are doomed to pain,
Those in pain of love know not they are blessed,
Though you know love not, I always murmured,
'cause my love is worthy to be remembered,
your love  to me ceremoniously in wilted heart I kept.

Details | Jamal Abboud Poem

How Often

How often you see me in the street,
Stately words, we always meet;
I know not where you go in a hurry,
Sometimes sad, glad, serious
 or desperate as the rest,
mostly you look cheerful and curious,
with same dresses and simple bag you carry,
you glance at me, perfectly the least,
but I stare at your beauty as you pass,
It is a little time until you vanish among the crowd,
I keep looking in search for you,
But you become a gentle scent in the mass,
And I burry a sigh which worth to be loud.
O, time as it is, I will wait another future,
When we can decide better possible right,
When we can ignore selfish pride of mortal nature,
And be faithful to lovely chance of ever delight,
When you hold me by the hand in the street,
And receive my attention, pacified when we meet.