Poetry (1)

Every word of thy poetry is indeed like unto a mirror in which the evidences of the devotion and love thou cherishest for God and His chosen ones are reflected.

THE ONLY LOVE

The only love I know is you
It is the feeling inside I can Explain
The deeper it goes the more it’s plain
Everything inside will remove the pain

With every kiss, I feel so fresh
For ever and ever I want you to stay
There are so many things I want to say
I am so happy that I want to play

Day After day you feed my mind
More and more you taught me to love
Everything inside in now unwind
For me and you to be forever in love

I find the love to feel
I find the truth to know
I find a world to cherish
I look around, my love is so real

My happiness inside is all to love
The burning of my heart is all to love
The tears from my eyes is all to love
Because the only love I know is you

Bijan

Orphans

The Warm of the breast of a mother feeding a child
The laugh of a father giggling a child
The sound of a mother's lullaby comforting a child
The prayers of thanks for blessing
The words of encouragement
The advice and guidance of parents
Lost for a child
A orphan child

Bijan

Abstract

A mood is created; happy, gay, and carefree, like a Mexican festival as seen from aloft. The dancers twirl faster and faster, their luminous, parti-colored skirts spinning like children's tops until the rainbow of color melts, throwing out threads of brilliant hues that intertwine. Deep, reddish-brown paint, like a wet earthen carpet, cushions the moving feet. The fiery heat of the red and orange, twisting, turning skirts of imagination is cooled by the blue and green pools of water left after a summer rain. Hot pink hats freely tossed into the air float to earth like little elliptical saucers. Bright, glowing yellow bathes the pirouetting figures in sparkling sunlight. The painted orchestrations reach a frenzied peak as the excited, jagged blue lines of the drum beat fill the air. Slowly, the prismatic music fades away and the swirling petticoats spiral back into place. The beauty of the moment is captured in a stilled kaleidoscope to gaze upon again and again. The eye never tires of looking into this myriad of colors, searching out missed surprises. Unknown emotions flowed from hand to brush to create this rectangle of pleasure. It is the beholder's eye that sees what it wants to see.

Mary Jardine

I close my eyes,

I close my eyes, but to God of all

The seas have sunken, seven of them all.

But look, glorious gems,

Have come out with style,

With one eye I weep

With the other I smile.

They were seven seas

Of love and strength,

Who sank to bring

Gems of peace and

Oneness

To the surface

of the earth.

Tahirih Foroughi

All I Think About

All I think about is your smile
And how being in your presence is so worthwhile

All I think about is when we kissed
And how those moments will be missed

All I think about is your face
And how I love your sweet embrace

All I think about is how you make me laugh
Even though you broke my heart in half

All I think about is our past
And how it went by so fast

All I think about is you
And how I'm so in love with you

By: Nadia

Who is A Poet.?
A Poet
Takes the face of life;
Holds the thread of love;
And needle of hurt;
And weaves the sheet of desire.
A poet walks in the garden of life and molds emotions;
Hurt into joy;
Tears into pearls;
Death into life;
Cry into laughter;
Bondage into freedom.
Despair into hope;
Hope into promise;
Promise into belief;
Belief into conviction.
A poet fishes at the sea of life and finds;
Understanding from superstition;
Tolerance from prejudice;
Love from hate;
Civility from fighting;
Freedom from jail;
Flowers from thorn;
Singing from shouting;
Order from disorder.
A poet climbs the mountain of life and,
Observes rivers, lakes, and oceans with appreciation;
Smells flowers, gardens, and trees with exhilaration;
Hugs Europeans, Asians, Africans, and Americans with anticipation;
Talks to theists, atheists, and agnostics with inspiration;
Loves Blacks, Whites, Reds, and Yellows with expectation.
A poet weaves thoughts into poems;
Poems touch our hearts;
And our spirits are enriched.
Roger K. Doost
World Traveler

We traveled the world, you and I
We explored the lands, far and wide
We passed through the ancient land of Persia
You saw hate; I saw despair
We drove to Saudi Arabia
You saw fanaticism; I saw want of faith
We went to Italy
You saw embezzlement; I saw unsettlement.
And then, we flew to the United States
You saw Indians, I saw people
You saw Blacks, I saw brothers
You saw Whites, I saw sisters
You saw Hispanics, I saw fathers
You saw Persians, I saw mothers.
Then, I paused... and understood what you saw
And you noticed what I saw
Our thoughts wove together
My world enriched your world
Your world enriched my world, and
we connected, and we became whole once more.
By Iraj

What We Believe!

You believe in God,
I believe in the mystery of our existence.
You believe in Heaven,
I believe in the sublimity of the skies.
You believe in Angels,
I believe in the magnificence of the stars.
You believe in Noah,
I believe in the power of the oceans.
You believe in Buddha,
I believe in the purifying power of water.
You believe in Moses,
I believe in majesty of the mountains.
You believe in Jesus,
I believe in gentility of the human heart.
You believe in Mohammed,
I believe in the need for justice.
Methinks!
We both believe in the same things,
If we only knew it; if we dared to admit it;
If we had the passion to embrace it.

by: Roger Doost
Does anybody know, who I am
?Will all our lives just be, another scam?
I simply sit and think,to concludeAre we all doomed?
Just how the world would be if we could understand?Why are there so many problems?Why's everyone so depressed?Good friends try to help,But they only do their best.We're all so lonely,So sensitive and sad.How can we cooperate to keep this world from going bad…?Why?Why?Why are we all so hexed?Let people get to know youThey're not as shallow as you see.Show off all you've gotBe the best you can be.Just how the world would be if we could understand?Why?Why?Why is this place so complex?Why?Why?Why are we all so hexed?Try not to throw our lives away,Unless we're willing to pay the cost.Let's have some better lives livedWe're all stuck behind a curtainOf beads and memories.Why are we all so scared of simply being seen?Just how the world would be if we could understand?By: Sienna Mae Heath

At last
A child who’s mine
A ray of hope,
In a life that’s been less than fine

Mitra is her name,
But being her father is my fame

I am ecstatic,
I am overjoyed
I am on the top of the world

I offer her my love,
That will last a life
I may be old and my hair is white
But I know I can do my job right

A child of Cyrus and Zapata
Who has made me a papa!

Arfa. Jan 2000

Every year, was the beginning.
She was ready to make it new again
She wanted it to be a sweet beginning
A warm and loving beginning

Every one gathered around her to make it that way
The bakery celebration began
Almost thirty days in advance

The grains to be grinded
The dough to be perfected
The big pot of sweet mixture
To be mixed 24 hours
Continuously
By hand

The long papers to be oiled
To be ready
To paste the puffing candy

The tiny cookies to be painted with saffron
The individual cookie dough to be filled
with sweetened coconut powder
OR a mixture of sweetened walnut powder

And then

The art of twisting the peripheral of each cookie One by one to shape it to a perfect full Or half circle cookie

And then
The final touch of saffron
To make it “perfectly”
Beautiful and tasty

Everything needed to be renewed
To be ready, clean and smell fresh and pleasant
For the all the guests and visitors
To come

She was the master
The master of giving a meaning to
A new beginning
“Spring”
“Nawruz”

Bijan

PILLARS OF LIFE

Lessons, articles, quotes, stories, memories and pictures about Faith, Friends and Families.