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I have been writing prose and poetry, for many years, and wrote my first poem, in my mid-teens.I always tried to write in a simple composition.
I have written nearly twenty songs plus more than hundred poems, many of them are published in various periodicals.But during the last two decades, I've not written a single verse.
After joining of this forum, I realized and want to express my feelings in Christopher Logue's words, that the more good poetry I read, the further I learn I am behind.
I fond of the ancient Greek civilization and inspired by their philosophers, so I've chosen the profile of Socrates, to ... more »
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Majid Zubedi Poems
Yet I have not become, your center of attraction; Though you've got the place of my all affection. How hard I've tried, but you do not recognize; My destiny maybe hopelessness, now I realize.
A poet, never developed in a day, It's a continuous journey through the burning path; But he never compromises with hypocrisy, And fights against the lie till his death.
A Little Poetess.
She is looking beautiful, in her pink dress; Along with some thoughtful expressions on her face. She doesn't know, I'm seeing from the door; That change in her behavior, I never saw before;
I'm walking under the trees, And recall my memories. I will never forget those days, We used to meet in the holidays.
Last year, we were together; today I sit where, once we were here.
Jasmines Or You.?
Cherie! May I give to jasmines, your name? Their perfume is just like your scent. When I touch jasmines, they shy as you used to be; That's why jasmines, recall your memory.
Now is the time, to change my mind. I'm no more writer, just turned to be a fighter.
My guitar my kindliest friend, Only it can please me, and, Give me much joyful time, When my feelings at its prime.
I am not a fighter, I am just a writer. Never in my life time, I took the sword,
Layla, was the name of a girl; Who was a Gypsy-girl... Layla lived in the desert;
Same Winter, With A Difference.
Winter is a nice season, when look through the glazed-window; Stand near the fireplace, and dressed like a hero.
Ocean Of Tears.
In the Ocean of tears, Here are tides of sorrows; Sailing the yacht of hopes, In search of better tomorrow.
Rain! Rain! go away; You recall me those days; Which I don't want to remember, Even though hardly forget ever;
Today I've been sad; Now I feel, I'm mad. I'd burnt in a flame, But thought, it is love's glow;
Comments about Majid Zubedi
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(31 May 1819 - 26 March 1892)
(31 October 1795 – 23 February 1821)
Yet I have not become, your center of attraction;
Though you've got the place of my all affection.
How hard I've tried, but you do not recognize;
My destiny maybe hopelessness, now I realize.
At your heart's door, why did I knock?
I have wounded my head against the rock.
From my side maybe Cupid forgets to throw;
But I'm bathing in blood by your side's arrow.
I have to see, how many times do you ignore?
I still waiting outside, when you slammed the door.
As one-sided love, my tenderness will be known;
During conversation if you do not mind the tone.