Nojan's Poetry

My Poetry

The Ongoing Poem That which the heart growth fond of by day,
I find the mind grows tired of by night,
You that has lead my life astray,
bring my heart to life with your beacon light.

That which at first makes men blissful and gay

Short-lived May we one day meet again
Until that day, Take care my friend
I know this will bring me pain,
But I hope that it will keep me sane,
Just remember our dear old pact,
Accordingly behave and act...

"No rules"!

Goodbye!

A New Chapter of Friendship Take a moment and breathe
Take a moment and sigh!
Everything so jumbled,
I wish I were a fly
buzz around the room
and then upon the wall!
Maybe a better perspective
on how the king would fall!
Fly across the ocean
and smell the salty sea!
What I would not give to have
my heart and mind set free!
Fly to places, kind and warm, to nice places filled with love
From spite and hate to a place of peace like a soaring dove.

Won't you take a nice deep breath
and join me for a while
whence we venture to a place of old
memories from the file.
This journey will be short and sweet
Like a candy lolly pop
A sugar high for the mind and soul
Down memory lane we hop

The First Few Pages Are we given a first page to start on?
Are we all born with a clean slate--born innocent, free of the ability to do wrong,
yet easily influenced by the world surrounding us, molded into what we have become?
Or do we come "in media res"?
Are we just thrown in as pawns in a complex plot or narrative?
Regardless of the answer to the later questions, we do not start on a blank first page.
The page on which we enter the plot is preceded by a table of contents, a preface, as well as acknowledgements.
A rough draft of the plot has thus been constructed from these preceding sections.
With our choices we smoothen the rough edges of the plot, give personality to the narrative,
and create a transition from one subplot to the next.
The first few pages mean a lot.
Will we have to live with a physical or mental handicap for the rest of our lives?
Will we be prone to heart-trouble or diabetes?
Our genetic inheritance is written on the first few pages.
Then what?
Will the genetic information determine everything?
Will it predominate our decision making?
Most likely not!
Out experiences, starting with the very first day, the page we become involved in the plot,
help shape our decisions and actions, our behavior.
So, though we may not start on the first page, and we may not know the table of contents of this complex narrative,
let us live our lives to the fullest extent possible.
Let us take this life, with which we are blessed, and the fabric of life, which the mabs of fate weave, made up of the love of God,
and with it, make the best we can.
Let us shape our own tapestry of life, to break the mold which society sets to hold our creativity and freedom to live hostage
and express ourselves to the fullest extend.
Let us push what we are blessed with to the limits.
Let loves make love, more intense than any other has before.
Let artists be more creative and able to express themselves than all others.
Let athletes push their limits at theirs sport to new heights.
And let us thank her for what she has given us, love to share and spread. Thank you God.

Faith There's a breeze across my skin,
Hot humid summer night,
A misty lighted fog covering the sky,
I cannot see a star in sight.
Soon I will towards home away,
As a feeling of tiredness comes over me.
To sleep and dream of stars not seen,
Will I wake up following that dream?
-H.J. 7/2/99
What if? Like the opening of roses in spring,
Like the horizon, with its rising sun,
Like waking up on a cold summer morning,
Like discovering a hilariously witty pun,
I feel like a baby
Learning to live again,
Like learning to play
With the toys in my pen.
With a smile on my face, I feel so free,
How little I knew, what she turned out to be,
Rosebuds,
Lilies,
Orchids,
Denoir!
She is the definition of beauty and youth.
With a smile on my face, I feel so free.
Is she here to stay?
Or will she away?
If I share every feeling, and play not a single game,
Will she hurt my heart and put me to shame?
"Should I or should I not?" -still early to tell!
Should you read this by chance, 'tis all a tall tale.

The Way I Feel That is the true season of love,
When we believe that we alone can love,
That no one could ever have loved so before us,
And that no one will love in the same way after us.

D.C. As moment after moment of separation passes,
The feeling of void and loneliness amasses.
Each moment of time, announces with a chime,
That serves as a reminder that there are no other mahsas.
And this loneliness, carves big hole
Into my heart and into my soul.
Second after second, it turns into pain,
Which all other pains known to me surpasses.
From breakfast to lunch,
From Atlanta to D.C.
This hurting heart of mine, lones to be
With the only one deserving in the masses.
To my dearest I write
From the depth of my heart
That wherever I be, L.A. or D.C.
You are the only one I want for me.

A Corny Limmerick There once was a girl named Christine,
On Monday nights it was her routine
To walk from Turman
And write essays in German.
And then print it all from her screen.

One night Christine streaked across the quad,
After that she ran into him and his squad,
He pretended to be older,
But inside he would smolder
For she could see right through his fade.

With the longest lunch ever, their story began,
To be brief, Christine, fell for this young man,
Their love was so pure,
But he was immature,
And so, it ended, like the hourglass and its sand.

After years of separation, their paths again crossed.
The more the two talked, the less they were lost.
They both were now wise,
Met with pleasant surprise
With the warmest friendship that no period of time could exhaust.

Partner for Life
I want a lover, I want a good friend.
I want one who'll be there 'till the very end.
I want a person who will love and will hate.
I want and incredibly good looking mate.
I want a partner, not just a good wife.
I want a lover and partner for the rest of my life.

When
If today were tomorrow, and tomorrow today,
I still wouldn't know what exactly I'd say.
"You are my lover, you are my soul-mate!
Let's take our good fortunes from the hands of fate.
Let me take you to the places you've seen in your dreams.
Show you Raphael's pieta and Parthenon's tall beams.
I can't promise you you'll love me,
                                            each and every day!
But I can promise you I will,
                                            no matter what I say!
I'll try to make you smile, and as happy as I can.
I'll swear you loyalty, and faithfulness as your man.
If you choose to bless me with gift of your sacred hand,
I promise you in exchange, not sunset beaches with sand,
                    But My Heart and My Soul

Time
        Time is the most undefinable yet paradoxical of things;
        the past is gone, the future is not come, and the present
        becomes the past, even while we attempt to define it, and,
        like the flash of the lightning, at once exists and expires.
                             -- Colton (1780-1832)

Sonnet CXVI

Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments. Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove:
O no! it is an ever-fixed mark
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wandering bark,
Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.
Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle's compass come:
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
If this be error and upon me proved,
I never writ, nor no man ever loved.
                -William Shakespeare (1564-1616)

That Sunday Night!
You once said, "Going through life with someone by your side makes life so
much more beautiful and worth living than searching alone in this world
for someone to stand with you. "I couldn't agree with you more. Over the months I have
needed somebody to be there for me, to complete me the way you complete
me when we are together. But, now, it's all a different game! It's a
new game with different rules, different boards, and different feelings.!
We have something very special that so many people our age have
never known. We know how hard life can be and how overwhelming our
emotions can be.
Yet there's one thing I do not understand..... See if you can follow me on
this one!
On a Sunday night, I think he was late, way too late for the chat to
be had.... It was a muggy Sunday night in September... when it'll
happened... and the fantasy rolled away. It was as if a clap of thunder
had hit, only to be seen, but the effects of which, even though immediate,
would not be recognized as yet. It was the consequence of this Sunday
night that made him realize that he had been a drunkard. Without his wine,
without his mug, he was nothing, just the same as the beggar on the corner.
The wine, oh so sweet, full in body, soul, and spirit. He realized what
he'd lost. The next few months, and who knows, maybe years, he would
spend wondering how he lost it. Rethinking every instant, every moment,
every sip, and every exchange. How did he lose it? What could he do find
his wine and become drunk in the sweet savored taste of her ripe grapes
(no allegory intended with grapes)??! For wine that came as such does
not but comes once an eon! He would struggle through life...searching
aim! searching purpose! Oh how he longed for that drunken state!? On
that Sunday night, the drunkard lost his wine, and became a mortal fool
once more! The lightning that struck, woke him to a sight of remorse, a
passion for his wine, which he could only now characterize. For with
wine so good, one becomes accustomed to taste, a taste so pure with
beauty, that one achieves a spirituality of union never achieved before.
In comparison to this, no other wine could do. Yet, being drunk, he knew
not well. To he who rides the horse high, all becomes the same, and
value does he not of what he has, but what he sees. This, and ever so
much more slowly became apparent to this gent, who felt the effects of the
lightning, and shall do so for ever more.
He still seeks that aged wine,
  which to him is Spirit in Body and soul.
He still longs for that state of his,
  in which he stayed, for time too short!
He shall not taste oh other wine,
  until he woos with that before, or with
  the wine-maker meets.
"Oh this journey thou makest too hard,
  upon a foolish chap like me!"
This he said and nothing more, in search of his 'Lenore'! For Ever more!
It's been a truly great experience.....thanks for everything.....
The bad and the good!
I don't think I'll ever stop loving you, in one way or another...
Strkr, it's time to smile and cry. Both from happiness. Reach your
arms out to me and I'll meet you half way.

Forever
My life will never be complete
As long as we're apart
Until the day we finally meet
I'll keep you in my heart
You'll always be the only girl
I want for all of time
No one else in all the world
Do I want to be mine
I'll always be here, darlin', for you
Until you're by my side
Dreamin' of your love so true
A love you can not hide
Forever, I will wait for you
So I can hear you say
Forever, you will love me, too
Forever and a day

The End of a Time

For a moment of heaven, an eternity of hell
For that, everything, and my soul I would sell?
Scream with hurt and pain, and laugh with joy,
My heart bleeding, still feel like a little boy.
You part the clouds, for that very short time,
YOU part the clouds, for that very short time,
You show me the sun, its rhythm and its rhyme,
Too brief the glimpse, won't you stay for a little while,
Share your deep thoughts, and give me a smile,
I promise to be nice, I promise not to stare,
You name the place, I will take you there.
These are all things, I am sure you have heard,
For me to say them, would that be absurd?
Am I the typical testosterone driven male?
Looking for a good time, a nice body for sale?
I'm not very old, but I've lived a long life,
I've had my moments, with joy or with strife!
I spend most moments, trying to be a better man,
Around most people, I feel that I can,
With you, a flower, a blossoming judd,
In comparison, I feel like some dirt or like mud.
I feel that no matter how hard I can try
I end up driving home, with tears in my eye.
Then I slowly begin to think to myself,
Maybe I place you on a pedestal on a shelf,
A person in interest, is often too blind,
To notice subtleties, which may not be too kind,
We could never go out, couldn't seriously date,
Why that is, is in the hands of God and dear fate!
With more people like you, I can rack up friends,
I cannot deny the gifts that God sends,
It's ok next time, if you only stay for a few
Until the next sighting, my friend, bon jour and adieu!

The Ongoing Poem	That which the heart growth fond of by day, I find the mind grows tired of by night, You that has lead my life astray, bring my heart to life with your beacon light. That which at first makes men blissful and gay
Short-lived	May we one day meet again Until that day, Take care my friend I know this will bring me pain, But I hope that it will keep me sane, Just remember our dear old pact, Accordingly behave and act... "No rules"! Goodbye!
A New Chapter of Friendship	Take a moment and breathe Take a moment and sigh! Everything so jumbled, I wish I were a fly buzz around the room and then upon the wall! Maybe a better perspective on how the king would fall! Fly across the ocean and smell the salty sea! What I would not give to have my heart and mind set free! Fly to places, kind and warm, to nice places filled with love From spite and hate to a place of peace like a soaring dove. Won't you take a nice deep breath and join me for a while whence we venture to a place of old memories from the file. This journey will be short and sweet Like a candy lolly pop A sugar high for the mind and soul Down memory lane we hop
The First Few Pages	Are we given a first page to start on? Are we all born with a clean slate--born innocent, free of the ability to do wrong, yet easily influenced by the world surrounding us, molded into what we have become? Or do we come "in media res"? Are we just thrown in as pawns in a complex plot or narrative? Regardless of the answer to the later questions, we do not start on a blank first page. The page on which we enter the plot is preceded by a table of contents, a preface, as well as acknowledgements. A rough draft of the plot has thus been constructed from these preceding sections. With our choices we smoothen the rough edges of the plot, give personality to the narrative, and create a transition from one subplot to the next. The first few pages mean a lot. Will we have to live with a physical or mental handicap for the rest of our lives? Will we be prone to heart-trouble or diabetes? Our genetic inheritance is written on the first few pages. Then what? Will the genetic information determine everything? Will it predominate our decision making? Most likely not! Out experiences, starting with the very first day, the page we become involved in the plot, help shape our decisions and actions, our behavior. So, though we may not start on the first page, and we may not know the table of contents of this complex narrative, let us live our lives to the fullest extent possible. Let us take this life, with which we are blessed, and the fabric of life, which the mabs of fate weave, made up of the love of God, and with it, make the best we can. Let us shape our own tapestry of life, to break the mold which society sets to hold our creativity and freedom to live hostage and express ourselves to the fullest extend. Let us push what we are blessed with to the limits. Let loves make love, more intense than any other has before. Let artists be more creative and able to express themselves than all others. Let athletes push their limits at theirs sport to new heights. And let us thank her for what she has given us, love to share and spread. Thank you God.
Faith	There's a breeze across my skin, Hot humid summer night, A misty lighted fog covering the sky, I cannot see a star in sight. Soon I will towards home away, As a feeling of tiredness comes over me. To sleep and dream of stars not seen, Will I wake up following that dream? -H.J. 7/2/99
What if?	Like the opening of roses in spring, Like the horizon, with its rising sun, Like waking up on a cold summer morning, Like discovering a hilariously witty pun, I feel like a baby Learning to live again, Like learning to play With the toys in my pen. With a smile on my face, I feel so free, How little I knew, what she turned out to be, Rosebuds, Lilies, Orchids, Denoir! She is the definition of beauty and youth. With a smile on my face, I feel so free. Is she here to stay? Or will she away? If I share every feeling, and play not a single game, Will she hurt my heart and put me to shame? "Should I or should I not?" -still early to tell! Should you read this by chance, 'tis all a tall tale.
The Way I Feel	That is the true season of love, When we believe that we alone can love, That no one could ever have loved so before us, And that no one will love in the same way after us.
D.C.	As moment after moment of separation passes, The feeling of void and loneliness amasses. Each moment of time, announces with a chime, That serves as a reminder that there are no other mahsas. And this loneliness, carves big hole Into my heart and into my soul. Second after second, it turns into pain, Which all other pains known to me surpasses. From breakfast to lunch, From Atlanta to D.C. This hurting heart of mine, lones to be With the only one deserving in the masses. To my dearest I write From the depth of my heart That wherever I be, L.A. or D.C. You are the only one I want for me.
A Corny Limmerick	There once was a girl named Christine, On Monday nights it was her routine To walk from Turman And write essays in German. And then print it all from her screen. One night Christine streaked across the quad, After that she ran into him and his squad, He pretended to be older, But inside he would smolder For she could see right through his fade. With the longest lunch ever, their story began, To be brief, Christine, fell for this young man, Their love was so pure, But he was immature, And so, it ended, like the hourglass and its sand. After years of separation, their paths again crossed. The more the two talked, the less they were lost. They both were now wise, Met with pleasant surprise With the warmest friendship that no period of time could exhaust.