Sanober Khan

Whatever you get out of poetry - take it. take it. take it. Words are better off felt than understood.

because some thingssometimesaren't ours to hold,but just beautiful to listen to.

Not words. nor laughter. but rather someonewho will fall in lovewith your silence.

it was the kind of moonthat I would want to send back to my ancestorsand gift to my descendantsso they know that I too,have been bruised...by beauty.

Sometimes I think,I need a spare heart to feel all the things I feel.

sometimes i don't know, which momentwhich cool gust of wind will come,and enchant metousling my hairand my heart, stirring...that familiar ache of poetry, which drop will kissthe old wrench in my soulreminding me, all over againi miss you better in the rain.

i want to be in love with youthe same wayi am in love with the moonwith the lightshiningout of its soul.

there are some poemsthat we leave behindsome that leave us behindwhile some just livesilentlyin the heartcrumble, sometimesdwindledisappeardieand are rebornwhen you smile again.

tell meof something fiercer than the love with which i gaze upon youof something softer than the tendernesswith which i hold you.

a flower knows, when its butterfly will return, and if the moon walks out, the sky will understand;but now it hurts, to watch you leave so soon,when I don't know, if you will ever come back.

the saddest thing is to bea minute to someone,when you've made them your eternity.

in a worldfull oftemporary thingsyou area perpetual feeling.

As long as I can hear the sweet melody of your words, I need not; The angel__ secret, to be whispered in my ears As long as I can lace your silky fingers round my own, I need not; Pretty diamonds, nor big cash nor gold As long as I can watch the handsome sunshine of your face, I need not; Open skies, nor snowfall, nor the rain As long as I can gaze into the emeralds of your eyes, I need not; New colors, new wings or paradise As long as I can feel the tender tickle of your breath, I need not; The drifting wind, nor its call, nor caress As long as I can feel your soft lips upon mine, I need not; Melted sugar, nor the most expensive of wines As long as I can feel your warm body close to me I need not; A blanket, nor a bonfire's luxury As long as I can see you every morning I wake, I need not; A mirror, nor a cloud, nor shade As long as I can keep you in every petal of memories I need not: Dreams, nor desires, nor fantasies And as long as I can hold you in every moment that I breathe, I need not; Oxygen, nor blood, nor heartbeats.

when i write of you, my deari am holding youin the most exquisiteways.

some poems frothand foam and rise...out of my morning cup ofmist-sweetened coffee.

sometimes i am not sure.if i am writing the poemor the poemis writing me.

love was never meant to bejust a metaphorbetween the pages of poetry.

Love, bemysticalas the flickering blue flameof nightas the fully-awokenmoonbeneath cobwebsof passing cloudsamidst chantinghigh-tidesfuzzy,as my blanketbig enough to illuminate a hundredthousand billion galaxiesand just small enough to fitinto my embrace.