Yo te tengoYo te tengo,
sentada en mi dedo meñique firme
y pesas
muchísimo, voy a partirme el dedo;

Pero sigues ahí, impasiva,
¿no te das cuenta del daño que me haces?
no quiero que te largues,
sólo déjame un espacio que me recupere;
necesito vendar este desastre
y pasar a otro nuevo
que día a día se me están acumulando.

Existen dos personas,
yo y la que vive,
y no, no se me ha olvidado el tipo,
llevo pensando en él décadas;
Pues no soy de ninguna manera una de las dos,
a mí me gusta considerarme una tercera que
observa,
o una cuarta si es que esa es tu creencia

Two sides.;There are two sides to every issue: one side is right and the other is wrong, but the middle is always evil.” -Ayn Rand

There are those outfitters, that sun burn, strugglers. Those wierded, estranged quitters, but I find peace in no remorse, my greed and need are open doors... open for a future whim. In fateful determination, in ill-will for the bashful evil side of forever win.

Cadaverous did you know, that you can dance?
In its own language –the ancient tongue;
The cosmos waits for new romance.
Like Open books riddled with twists and turns;
In a furnace deep, crafted by nature;
There where your desire holds, and burns.
Starli

Break from the Pact.Dream unto thee this wish I see
for myself, when my goals are set.
My debts paid in full and mind astray
I leave with her in my arms into the sunset.

We leave with a full tank of gas,
a mix CD and some clothes.
We drive for four hours, yet seems like ten
and when the rains come, how does it pour.

We ditch the car at the mile marker
after we run out of gas and power.
Then we walk backwards, hands held out
with a lucky road thumb by the hour.

Ride after ride, closer to the coast,
we sit and laugh and joke.
Living the American dream as we saw fit
if not the epitome of our hope.

We reached the coast and stowed for our ride
on a ship nam

You Dont Know MeOstatnio on się nie stara,
wychodzi z niego poczwara.
Qrwami chętnie częstuje,
wulgaryzmem operuje.
A dlaczego się nie stara,
no bo pani go nie jara.
Na wiele sobie pozwala,
swoją złością więc nawala.
Tutaj nie ma tłumaczenia,
że coś robi od niechcenia.
No bo pani zaklepana,
myśli o nim już od rana.
Toteż będzie popychadłem,
którym on teraz zawładnie.
A więc z błędu wyprowadzam,
taka miłość - się nie zgadzam.
Nie ma - jestem zaklepana,
i przy tym poniewierana.
Miłość pragnie być kochana,
zate

Banale GespraecheIch träume von der Nacht
Und ich träume von geistigen Flügen
Alles, was sie reden ...
So banal!
Damit komm ich nicht klar.
Kratzen an der Oberfläche,
Stechen niemals rein.
Was mich stört,
Sind nicht die Themen,
Sondern wie schnell sie abgehandelt sind.
Denken, denken ... eine Qual?
Nein, der Seele höchster Genuss!
Warum verstehen sie das nicht?

Der Natur entstiegen Geboren Der Natur entstiegen

Geboren in der Natur ihr` Schoß,
geborgen in den Wurzeln,
greif in den Himmel und werde groß,
kaum begreifend, Stirnrunzeln.

Ihre Ruhe die Sicherheit spendend,
das Gras unter den Füßen,
sich ganz und gar abwended,
das Leben begrüßen.

Tauche ein in den Zeitraffer der Stadt,
sich selbst geklont,
bis jedes Ich eintausend Ichs hat,
nie verschont.

Sich vor sich selbst erschreckend,
ein Ich für jeden Raum,
Nähe suchend, einsam versteckend,
Sehnsucht nach dem Weltenbaum.

Genug vom Kämpfen, Verlieren, Besiegen.
Vergessen wer man ist, wie man heißt,
sich in seiner Selbst

Pero eso no rimaCreo que la diferencia
entre aquellos que se llaman poetas
y los que no
está en que a los primeros
les encanta pulsar esa maldita tecla;
"intro" la llamo yo,
y me considero uno de los que
adoran pulsarla,
pero no un poeta,
eso lo dejo para los más necesitados.

La diferencia es que el dedo baila
me lo pide,
bien por distancia o por una pausa
que no es una coma, tampoco un espacio
es sólo una pequeña respiración
que el buen lector sabe entender,
es como si cada línea fuera un tiempo;
salta
y salta de nuevo
como si no hubiera un final;
Veo que me has entendido.

No me gusta llamarme poeta
porque no esto

soledadOh soledad, maldita soledad.
SOS la interpretación de la muerte lenta.
Estoy prisionera, atada con cadenas, cadenas de rosas negras.
Que se trepan por todo mi cuerpo, cuyas espinas se clavan en mi piel, cambiando de color negro a carmesí.
En la aviación pintada de negro.
Cuya lágrimas derramadas en el suelo que van muriendo.
Sin la débil luz de una sonrisa, sola, me he muerto, mi alma ha desaparecido, dejándome solo la soledad.
Ya no quiero vivir así, he sufrido de muchas formas pero nunca más quiero sufrir, déjame morir en la tormenta, déjame morir en los brazos de la sol

The NomadI am a nomad, traveling through an infinite, red desert, in search of water, all of which has been dried up by the "bright" sun's intense heat or has been pushed by gravity so deep into the Earth that a lifetime of digging into the sand beneath my feet would not produce a single drop. And so many mirages... so many fucking mirages... that I must excruciatingly pain myself to prove false and nonexistent. So many mirages, in fact, that even my logical and rigidly machine mind has begun to suspect that probability itself is plotting against me... the bastard, showing me just what I've desired all these years, just to make me repeat to myself wha

The Ice-Cream ManIn a world of dark,
in a city of gray,
if you listen to the silence,
you can hear it everyday.

The bells still ring,
the cart is still there,
and you can hear that same old tune,
a melody in the air.

It seems the same from far away,
but if you walk up the to stand,
it stands empty, cold, alone,
the ghost of the ice-cream man.

He has lost his money and dreams,
for no children buy anymore,
they are all long dead and gone,
shot or bombed in a war.

But he still has hopes,
that one day the children will return,
and so he stands here every day,
waiting, forever he will yearn.

Or perhaps the ice-cream man is right,
perhaps it is not the late,
t

1U zagrljaju šapucem,
rijeci imaju novu tamu.
Cekam da se vrate leptiri
dok ponovo gubim sebe samu...

I govorim isto,
mislim i osjecam.
tražim izgubljeno
i samu sebe utapam...

Doticem kožu,miris
i poznati glas.
Toplo je dobro,srce
što kuca za nas...

Molim te vrati mi
Srecu-znam da je tu.
Ispod sve soli,sveg tog
što boli,raspoznajem ju.

Ove bivše rijeci što
bile su premalo tada,
gube toplinu,iskru
i crvenu boju vatre sada...

Znaš li što doista
znace mi suze?
Laže ti osmijeh
što dotakne obraze...

Kraj mi daj,zagrli me
i zatupi bojom meda
sve izgubljeno usput,
staro

FuturoDoce miles de telas de araña me sujetan
a mi ventana impidiéndome avanzar,
construir un futuro hacia un deseo
agonizante y oscuro,
hacia un pálpito de pura codicia.

Veintisiete con ocho pilares
sustentan mi mente
partida en pedazos ante un
destino que no es mío,
destino robado por mentirosos.

Pero sigo sobre mis piernas,
puede que intranquilo,
puede que tembloroso,
pero nadie podrá afirmar
que no puedo sujetarme.

Sigo sonriendo al horizonte,
y es que una sola canción
me llena de cariño,
respeto, y una quemazón
a la que me gusta llamar alma.

Al fin y al cabo son sólo núm

BiancaWarmer Abend
Wir sind betrunken
Und singen Nirvana
So perfekt ...

Du bist wie dieser Abend
Ganz besonders, einmalig
Unersetzbar, leider endlich

Wenn mein Herz mir schmerzt,
Dann gibst du mir dein Ohr
(auch wenn dein Handy dauernd leer ist :p )
Und hörst einfach zu.

Du bist nicht
Die Krone der Gesellschaft,
Sondern zersetzt sie mit Gift.
Heil dir, oh du meine Lieblings-Punkerin!

Du bringst mich zum Lachen.
Du bringst mich zum Weinen.
Vollendeter Kreis.

Für mich sind wir Schwestern,
Also bleib, wer du bist.

Du liebst Nirvana,
Du liebst den Rausch,
Du liebst das Klavier,
Du liebst den Regen,
Du bist ein kleiner Eskapist.

Komm, k

Ludzkie slowaLudzkie słowa, czułe, kruche,
czynią w sercach zawieruchę.
One są nieadekwatne,
karkołomne, nieporadne.
Myśli – ciche, spontaniczne,
niezależne, nielogiczne.
Czasem dużo obiecują,
lecz słowa nie dotrzymują.
Kłamstwa mnożą się na świecie,
często człowiek głupstwa plecie…

Nosso Senhor o Rei das MiseriasO sol diz adeus, amarelo, azul e roxo

As àrvores derretem-se

Um sonho acordado nas horas da noite

Por uma promessa, muitas almas vêm de terras muito distantes

Bem-vindo seja, aquele que acredite,

No amor como uma força, coisa inesquecível

São mais fortes as dores, reinan as tristezas

O destino começa agora.

Ele colapsa as estrelas, tudo o que da,

Tudo vai quitar, quando você mais precisa

Pelos becos pretos, onde nada brilha, mesmo a lúz do sol,

Ficam as lembranças, a felicidade

Do Rei das misérias, fantasiado da cordialidade

Que apareceu da nada na escuridã

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Confusion

by ~Shayan-Nayash, May 28, 2012, 9:30:48 PM
Literature / Poetry / Human Nature / Concrete Poetry

In this eternal battle of light and darkness  which side is right?
The one which has complete might?
The one which has a word named light?
Where does  the  darkness road end?
To the Land of the coward men?
Will this road lead us to hell?
Or does it have heaven's tales to tell?
What will be the road to paradise?
Is it a game won by a dice?
Or Is it a long road with our life's price?
What will we do with this thoughts?
Will we believe  in god's cross?
Or will we choose the moon a sign of lights loom?
Or will we at last fall and serve to darkness claw?
To calamity and chaos law?
All of this questions in our minds
Whispering till there are finds
What will we do in the end?
Will we find a way to ascend  Or in the end to the valley of shadows we will  descend?

BY Shayan Shahsavary

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Confusionby ~Shayan-Nayash

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Truly what will we do with all these decisions?

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Submitted on: May 28, 2012
File Size: 983 bytes

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=Riemea Jul 15, 2012 Hobbyist General Artist

Yet another well written work of yours. Your poems are deep and I can see that much thought went into them, this one is no exeption.

"Confusion" is a very good title for your poem, it really fits. Is there even something like "right" and "wrong"? Wouldn't that be thinking in black and white, without shades of grey? I like that this poem consists mainly of questions, and ones that make the reader think nonetheless, which is always a good thing. One thing I noticed though is that you tried to seperate/highlight certain words in some lines through double spaces. This disturbs the flow of reading a little, so it may be better to set them italics instead.

Other than that, it's an amazing poem again! Keep up the great work!

~Shayan-Nayash Jul 17, 2012 Hobbyist General Artist

once again thanks for awesome comment

=Riemea Jul 17, 2012 Hobbyist General Artist

No problem

~demonrobber May 31, 2012

If we don't believe in God does that mean we cannot enter Heaven? If we do good but are attracted to the darker side of life will we still find paradise? I can understand the confusion. I believe we choose our own destiny.

~Shayan-Nayash May 31, 2012 Hobbyist General Artist

Great comprehending.I respect your point of view it's one of the best

*MonaParvin May 30, 2012 Professional

Just amazing dear Shayan

~Shayan-Nayash May 30, 2012 Hobbyist General Artist

tnx a lot dear Mona

~leonms May 28, 2012

nice
(shayan many dom be englisy chi mishe,mikham begam be dome parande faghat negah koind....in jomlaro baram engilisisho befrest)

~Shayan-Nayash May 28, 2012 Hobbyist General Artist

tnx

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Confusionby ~Shayan-Nayash

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