supermodel....and shes mine!
Mangs

Where have all the words gone?

In the flickering candlelight,
The lines on your face distinctly shown.
Theres you, me and an eerie silence…
Where have all the words gone?

Like the north winds melted by the summer sun,
Lost in the skies never to return.
Like the water that ebb’d and flowd’
Water that slipped through the palm…you weren’t mine to hold.

Like the jealous moon and stars,
Never to be found as another day starts.
Like the dream that comes and goes…
That angelic vision, from a memory flows.

I see your lips as they begin to part,
with the quickest of subtlety, you cloak your heart.
The softest of whispers, and then a lull before the storm
And in the quietness I wonder…Where have all the words gone?

To my future soulmate.....

It doesn’t interest me what you do for a living.
I want to know what you ache for and
if you dare to dream
of meeting your heart’s longing.

It dosen't interest me how old you are,
I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool,
For love, for your dream,
for the adventure of being alive.

It dosen't interest me
what planets are squaring your moon.
I want to know if you have touched
the center of your own sorrow,
If you have been opened by lifes betrayals,
Or have become shriveled and closed,
from fear of further pain.

I want to know if you can sit with pain,
Mine or your own.
Without moving to hide it,
or fade it,
or fix it.

I want to know if you can be with joy,
Mine or your own.
If you can dance with wildness,
and let the ecstasy fill you to the tips of your fingers and toes,
Without cautioning us to be careful, be realistic,
remember the limitations of being human.

It doesn’t interest me
if the story you are telling me is true.
I want to know if you can disappoint another
to be true to yourself.
If you can bear the accusation of betrayal
and not betray your own soul.
If you can be faithless
and therefore trustworthy.

I want to know if you can see Beauty
even when it is not pretty...
every day.
And if you can source your own life from its presence.

I want to know
if you can live with failure
yours and mine
and still stand at the edge of the lake
and shout to the silver of the full moon, “Yes.”

It doesn’t interest me
to know where you live or how much money you have.
I want to know if you can get up
after the night of grief and despair
weary and bruised to the bone
and do what needs to be done
to feed the children.

It doesn’t interest me who you know
or how you came to be here.
I want to know if you will stand
in the center of the fire with me and not shrink back.

It doesn’t interest me
where or what or with whom you have studied.
I want to know what sustains you from the inside when all else falls away.
I want to know if you can be alone with yourself
and if you truly like the company you keepin the empty moments.

A Cryptic Heart

A Cryptic Heart
In whole, yet...in part,
Solace in Obscurity,
Selflessness in Eccentricity.

A Forgivable Sin
A harmless glass of tonic and jin.
A scar you can repair,
A deathwish in despair.

Silence in a million voices,
The right way in bundle of choices,
Chaos in a reason,
Flower buds without a season.

Meaning in modern art,
A perfect circle, a Cryptic heart.
........Wish we had it all.

Umang.

I've tried this sumtimes....
Mangs