Tag Archives: poem

If—By Rudyard Kipling

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I just read this poem and really loved it. Sometimes words are so real and strong that they punch your soul and bring new thoughts towards you.

 

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If you can keep your head when all about you

    Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,

If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,

    But make allowance for their doubting too;

If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,

    Or being lied about, don’t deal in lies,

Or being hated, don’t give way to hating,

    And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise:

If you can dream—and not make dreams your master;

    If you can think—and not make thoughts your aim;

If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster

    And treat those two impostors just the same;

If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken

    Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,

Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,

    And stoop and build ’em up with worn-out tools:

If you can make one heap of all your winnings

    And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,

And lose, and start again at your beginnings

    And never breathe a word about your loss;

If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew

    To serve your turn long after they are gone,

And so hold on when there is nothing in you

    Except the Will which says to them: ‘Hold on!’

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,

    Or walk with Kings—nor lose the common touch,

If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,

    If all men count with you, but none too much;

If you can fill the unforgiving minute

    With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run,

Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it,

    And—which is more—you’ll be a Man, my son!

 

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If You Forget Me by Pablo Neruda (1904 – 1973)

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I want you to know
one thing.

You know how this is:
if I look
at the crystal moon, at the red branch
of the slow autumn at my window,
if I touch
near the fire
the impalpable ash
or the wrinkled body of the log,
everything carries me to you,
as if everything that exists,
aromas, light, metals,
were little boats
that sail
toward those isles of yours that wait for me.

Well, now,
if little by little you stop loving me
I shall stop loving you little by little.

If suddenly
you forget me
do not look for me,
for I shall already have forgotten you.

If you think it long and mad,
the wind of banners
that passes through my life,
and you decide
to leave me at the shore
of the heart where I have roots,
remember
that on that day,
at that hour,
I shall lift my arms
and my roots will set off
to seek another land.

But
if each day,
each hour,
you feel that you are destined for me
with implacable sweetness,
if each day a flower
climbs up to your lips to seek me,
ah my love, ah my own,
in me all that fire is repeated,
in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten,
my love feeds on your love, beloved,
and as long as you live it will be in your arms
without leaving mine

 

Unexpected Guest !

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Once a upon a time

In a big city like ours,

There was a rich man,

Indulge In the pride of power and money,

Careless, rude, can’t live without luxury,

Successful but black –hearted,

See everyone with contempt,

God for him is nowhere,

One night, almost in the midnight

Someone knocks his door,

His servants were there but no one opens the door

Oh hell, where are you all morons?

He was shouting, angrily opens the door,

A poor old man was standing alone,

Ahh, what a rubbish, what do you want old man?

I don’t need anything child,

You need to see things right,

Your heart is black and blood is white,

You need to see things right,

What? You want me to hear your rhymes in this midnight?

Mercy on yourself child, God is there want to see you right.

God is nowhere, Get out of my sight,

He closed the door and went inside,

Laid on his bed but sleepless and tired,

Thinking, who was that poor man? What is the “RIGHT”?

Night was over, and sun arise,

He forgets the message he ruined his life

Day by day, night by night, His pride grows

Fame, success and money that all he knows,

Clocks ticking fast, years has been passed

And then,

It was a cold dark night,

When someone knocks the door,

He was drunk and alone,

He opens the door, No one was there,

He talks to himself, ahhh I am so much drunk I guess,

He went inside, lay on a bed, and closed his eyes,

When he hears,

Poor you, you did not mercy on yourself,

He opens his eyes in fear,

Who is here?

Who is here?

You can’t see me but I am near you child,

Something was there like a smoke,

He feels the cold eyes somewhere near

Someone says loud and clear

O child, now you have to come,

Now there is no time,

I am death, this is your time and you need to pay,

Oh no, no please, I will kill you ,who is here? He shouted in terror and fright,

Oh child, God wanted you to see what is right,

Not once, not twice but many times,

He showed you needy people, to help them, Right?

He gave you money and power to ease them, Right?

He kept you healthy and successful all over your life,

He gave you strength and power to make things right.

Not for your own pride!

But your time is over now, and you have to die.

No, Oh no please Mercy, Mercy God!!

I understand now,

I understand now,

I will make things right,

Oh mercy. I don’t want to die now,

Crying, shouting, but no one hear.

The last words

That man say’s was

GOD IS NOW HERE!

 

  I need to share that I write this poem in response to daily prompt :http://dailypost.wordpress.com/dp_prompt/unexpected-guests/ , and This is what i really felt when I read the words ” UNEXPECTED GUESTS” , Please feel the words, and always remain ready for the unexpected guest.

May Allah bless us all , and help us all, ameen.

 

 

 

The Professional Wanderer

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The Professional Wanderer by Henry Lawson (1867 – 1922)

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When you’ve knocked about the country—been away from home for years;

When the past, by distance softened, nearly fills your eyes with tears—

You are haunted oft, wherever or however you may roam,

By a fancy that you ought to go and see the folks at home.

You forget the family quarrels—little things that used to jar—

And you think of how they’ll worry—how they wonder where you are;

You will think you served them badly, and your own part you’ll condemn,

And it strikes you that you’ll surely be a novelty to them,

For your voice has somewhat altered, and your face has somewhat changed—

And your views of men and matters over wider fields have ranged.

Then it’s time to save your money, or to watch it (how it goes!);

Then it’s time to get a ‘Gladstone’ and a decent suit of clothes;

Then it’s time to practise daily with a hair-brush and a comb,

Till you drop in unexpected on the folks and friends at home.

When you’ve been at home for some time, and the novelty’s worn off,

And old chums no longer court you, and your friends begin to scoff;

When ‘the girls’ no longer kiss you, crying ‘Jack! how you have changed!’

When you’re stale to your relations, and their manner seems estranged ;

When the old domestic quarrels, round the table thrice a day,

Make it too much like the old times—make you wish you’d stayed away,

When, in short, you’ve spent your money in the fulness of your heart,

And your clothes are getting shabby . . . Then it’s high time to depart.

I Wandered Lonely As A Cloud

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I Wandered Lonely As A Cloud

by William Wordsworth (1770 – 1850) ~ A Poem I can’t resist to share here.

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I wandered lonely as a cloud

That floats on high o’er vales and hills,

When all at once I saw a crowd,

A host, of golden daffodils;

Beside the lake, beneath the trees,

Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

 

Continuous as the stars that shine

And twinkle on the Milky Way,

They stretched in never-ending line

Along the margin of a bay:

Ten thousand saw I at a glance,

Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

 

The waves beside them danced, but they

Out-did the sparkling leaves in glee;

A poet could not be but gay,

In such a jocund company!

I gazed—and gazed—but little thought

What wealth the show to me had brought:

 

For oft, when on my couch I lie

In vacant or in pensive mood,

They flash upon that inward eye

Which is the bliss of solitude;

And then my heart with pleasure fills,

And dances with the daffodils.

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http://dailypost.wordpress.com/dp_prompt/the-wanderer/