This post was originally published on Your Poems, Your Stories at Hidden Heart.

Experiences that made us strong enough,

Events that we couldn’t put aside,

But we kept as treasures into innermost part of us

Stories that perk, perks up our day,

Travels that thaught us to grow in wisdom,

People we met along the way, made us know who we are ,

But when our reflection send us to the other way around,

Stories that wreck us to create good plans,

Experience that made us stuck ,

And almost can`t move on from painful times,

Events we found ourselves unhappy,

Had no guts to share it to anybody,

If it`s unhealthy and only make us worry,

Instead of take the chance to make life worthy,

Now it`s time to move and ,embrace the day we own,

Delighted by the countless blessings we got,

People that shows their care to us,

Special moments we cherished and kept into our hearts,

..As our Reflection may serves us an energy to face this unpredictable life….

This post was originally published on Your Poems, Your Stories at Reflection.

The beautiful and dynamic achievement of flight.
A kite flying with great height.
A curveball thrown with might.
Phenomenal “Aerodynamics” allows such sights.

The amazing structure of the human body such as the heart;
Eyes that view a visual art.
Ears that tune Mozart.
Without the extraordinary systems of “Anatomy” we truly depart

The fascinating studies of humankind.
Values help us to be kind.
Beliefs are a part of how we are designed.
The enthralling and humble “Anthropology” allowing us to be refined.

The remarkable mystery of reconstructing past societies.
Biofacts help pieces together ancient aristocracy.
Artifacts help determine historical tendencies.
Adventurous and valuable “Archaeology” traces of our ancestries.

The wonderful feeling and marvel of observing the night sky…
Planets are the starting point in charting the galaxies, nothing to defy.
Calendars, how else would you know it’s July!
The mystical stories of “Astronomy” is where our answers lie.

There is a fabulous world of the living that the human eye can not see.
Bacteria without you there would not be food on land or in sea.
Earth’s microscopic decomposer and carbon releaser, nature loves thee.
Most see it as disease I see “Bacteriology” as exquisite, maybe it’s just me!

What could be more delightful then knowing our genetic code?
DNA the carrier of our complex traits, an imperfect human mold.
Chemical processes in living organisms, a sight, if able to see, to behold!
Unbelievable and monumental is “Biochemistry” to mapping the human road.

I admire the ability to see every aspect of life in a living organism.
Classification of species helps define humanism.
Behavior the study of stimulus-response may help destroy racism!
I find comfort in “Biology” and in its explanation of this organism.

I could not be more grateful for the importance in plant life!
Oxygen is life, without it we’ll all be in the afterlife.
Medicine is the healer and prevents the surgical knife.
We all should be thankful to lifesaving “Botany” and its lab in the wildlife.

There are so many other branches of science: Climatology,
Entomology, Ecology, Marine Biology…
And this is just a poem, not a report, to marvel at science.
Beside this scientific mind has run out of rhymes

This post was originally published on Your Poems, Your Stories at Science.

in a fancy drive

by this hidden city

where hearts get ceased by jealous rips

and magical carpets full of tiny lights

hiding lonely stories and innocent gossip

black gardens hanged by pearls

and stars..

hallowed by shying hopes

that’s you tonight

my home town

same old plot, new passion

two masculine mountains…

staring at each other

who frees the captured soul?

resting in between

who lives there…

who smiles here..

who wonders if someone is thinking of you..

or doubts that someone cherishes another…

in my home town

Like every week at this time..

winds from the crowded capital

blow, push me, like a sail

then steadily cradled

by welcoming breezes

in early galleys of my town

gently pulling the drive

while scanning memories

chasing far away thoughts

of an old man

driving through this highway

tonight

cross my home town

*Duhok is a provinceDownload in Iraqi Kurdistan Region

*Photo of Dohuk from internet

This post was originally published on Your Poems, Your Stories at Duhok tonight.

The time is readying
or am I happy with the
sounds that come from
within.

Without noise, I sleep in
places secret and secure.

All my delights in this mind
of bright lights
mood divine
any time.

I’m ready to pitch in.

This post was originally published on Your Poems, Your Stories at SHADOWS.

Like  someone isolated in a single  car.

Whether you make or you mar

or  you  initiate  a  healthy  war

All these  things  are  worthless  so  far,

leaving  aside  you  as  the  single  star

The day  you  die, you are  just  born

You  can  be  killed, your  spirit can’t  be  torn

Surrounded  by hypocrite friends  and  enemies  hypothetical

Making  your  every  moment  so  critical

Even  enjoyed  your deepest cuts,

remembering  that  the  darkest  hour  has  only  60  minutes

You  alone  have  to  face  the  critics

when  everything  surrounded  turned  into  bricks

Still  you  survive  in  between

a  world  which  is  so  mean -

to  take  advantage

whether  you  do  a  job  or  you  study  in  a  college

You  always  recover  from  your  past

whether  you  were  placed  first  or  at  the  last

Hardly  anyone  helps  you  rise

Still  you  fly  faster  than  all  the  flies

Like  all  the  books  in  the  library,

your  name  is  also  isolated  in  His  diary

You are  alone  even  in  a   group

though  your  life  follows  a  closed  loop

You  have  no  allies  but  only  agents

You  are  a  superpower  like   the  colourless  paints

God  is  alone. Even  He  is  isolated

You  are  the  only  one  whom  he  created

You are  your  father, you  are  your  mother

You are  your brother, you  are  your  sister

Everone  surrounded  is  only  you

It’s  you  and  you  alone  in  the  queue

Sun is  alone, so  is  the  moon

You  will  leave  your  clone  at  the  darkest  noon

With  the  same  pain, the  god  lets  you  off  the  freedom

Which  he  gave  the  day  you  were  created

and  which  you  enjoyed  during a stardom  which  was  isolated.

This post was originally published on Your Poems, Your Stories at STARDOM ISOLATED.

I am a wave, HE is the guide
Still HE never takes my side
Never does HE  answers , always ignores
Well , that’s the destiny I endorse

As  usual , the days  passed  by,
Every night I used to weep and cry
For something I didn’t possesss
For something which HE gave me the  less
But one night everything changed around  me
To  re-register  my  faith in the presence of  HE

That dark night , I asked -

” Shower  your grace
  Beautify my face
  Make  me  look  handsome
  Set  my  life  less  cumbersome
  Let  me  grow  healthier
  And  show  me the  ways  to  become  healthier ”

For  me, the  biggest mental freak
That  bleady  dumb  didn’t  speak
At  the  time  for  a fresh  day  to start
I  went  to  the  bed  with   a  hope  in  my  heart
I  woke  up  only  to  see  a  dark  scar  on  my  face
Perhaps  his  only  path  to  be  examined  under  a  trace

And  then  I  heard -

” Both  God  and  Devil  are great
  Both  creates  and  masters  your  fate
  But  Devil  responds to  the  greedy
  And  God  responds to  the  needy ”

I  made  a  mistake  only  to  conclude
Optimism  is  good , but  greediness is  what  you  should exclude
Keep  smiling  and  believe in  the  God
Because  that  Devil  is  ultimately  a  frowd
After  such   a  miraculous  power  presentation
I  have  nothing  left  to  say  about  that  last  conversation.

This post was originally published on Your Poems, Your Stories at That Last Conversation.

Subtle tones of humidity in the air.
Neck tension catching on fire.
The window’s telling stories.
The rain’s playing hide and seek with the sun.

And everything stinks like false priorities.

To the majority at least.

Everybody’s one last excuse before being buried alive.

The guilty following the carnival
To the big black house of redemption.

As the rest of us reduce our
Spirituality to Video Games and TV

In search of the same fulfillment.

Sunday.

The knives still stuck in all our backs.
We follow blindly.

One day to remember
What we do not have.
What we can’t achieve.

Recruiting others.

Only the children,
In their abandonment,
Have left the masses
To honor the universe
And it’s secrets.

So when we fiction
Our way to next Sunday
We might leave a friction
Up to fate.

This post was originally published on Your Poems, Your Stories at Sunday.

The birth….

I was born of nothing, and nothing ever was.
I think if there was nothing, we wouldn’t have a cause.
The dreams they came from no where, a funny place to be.
I think I heard it coming, that sunny bumble bee.

I dream of things that could have been, and dream of things I could have seen.
What dreams, what mixed up thoughts, of times gone by and nothing!
And nothing happened with a bang!
A flash of light and then a blast, I flew into the sky so fast.

And now I’m on a journey, a journey to somewhere.
I wonder where I’m going, and when I will get there.
The time flies by as we go fast, I think we’re looking at the past.
My dreams are gone, I think we’re here; we’ve travelled through the stratosphere.

Sometimes we try to understand, and what we see is in our hand.
The darkness gone, the light is here, as we travel through the stratosphere.
There is no god, there’s only light, and you can’t see him in the night.
There’s something else that we can’t see, I think it is a bumble bee.

With darkness gone the light will shine, if only we could see through time.
I know it’s god I know he’s here as we travel through the stratosphere…..

The birth of the sun….

Into the darkness of the night I’m sure I saw a different light.
It shone so bright, it lit the tree, where I saw the bumble bee.
Into the universe was born, a light that shone into the morn.

It started from deep within; you could have heard them drop a pin.
The light was born, the time was now, they never had a sacred cow.
Into the darkness came the light it shone out brightly in the night.
It danced, it jumped, it sang with glee, cause it was happy to be free.

Without the light, what would we see, would we see the bumble bee.
We need the light to shine so bright, and light our way throughout the night.
We don’t want to be in the dark, we can’t go playing in the park….

The birth of a child….

A child is born into the light, a saviour of the people’s rights.
Who knows the message that he brings, and the secret of the ring.

The new messiah cometh here from far outside the stratosphere.
Into the world the saviour born he comes without his crown of thorns.

He comes because we cannot see, not because of bumble bees.
He has message that he brings, of things, of things, and things and things..

The Fallen Angel

She fell from heaven in the night, oh isn’t she a pretty sight.
Her lips are red, her eyes blue, her crown of light comes shining through.
Was she pushed, or did she fall and did she slam against the wall.

She’s lost from heaven all alone, I wonder if she’ll make it home.
There’s something she can feel inside, there’s something from the other side.
It fills her troubled heart with fear, because she thinks it’s coming here.

There is a message sent from hell, she came down here for all to tell.
You know the message, it won’t be long, don’t let them sing the sacred song.
I won’t sing. It won’t be me; I won’t kill the bumble bee.

If you had thought you’d get away, and come back on another day.
Well think again the time is near, it’s only in another year.
Don’t be scared, and don’t you cry, cause maybe this is just lie…..

Broken heart….

I gave my love as people do; you took my love I gave to you.
I said I’d love her for all time, I wonder if that is a crime.
The years they came, the years they went, I always thought
that they were meant.
You broke my heart, I don’t know why, I never understood the lie.

When darkness falls into the night, I cannot see the fading light.
I wander here, I wander there, my heart is sad when you’re not there.
The light within my heart grows dim, and I know I’ll never win.

I’m lost just now, I don’t know why; I wonder if she’ll ever cry.
I think about her all the time, but now I feel I’m doing fine.
She broke my heart, she doesn’t care, and people only come to stare.
She trapped my heart, it’s in tree, I wish It was the bumble bee.
They say that love will be for ever, but never, never, never, never……..

The Fire bird of Satan

Satan’s sole is trapped with chains, heavens let him out again.
He came up here to claim your sole, and he brought with him the plagues of old.
The signs are out there that he’s back, I heard a rumour he brought Jack.

The wings are pierced, the chains are tight, oh this is a ferocious sight.
To let him go would be sin; his evil friends are closing in.
It won’t take much to set him free, but he might kill the bumble bee.

Although some of you don’t believe, the fate of life is with the bee.
If he escapes, and he gets free, I know he’ll kill the bumble bee.
So if you see him in the dark, don’t go playing in the park.
Go away and hide somewhere, and never let him know your there.

A time of change is on its way, were going to see a different day.
It’s coming soon, it will be fine, there’s going to be a change in time.
Look at stars to see the sign; it’s coming from the depths of time.
If only we could understand there’s going to be a change in man…

Loss of faith…

I told your story from the start, the world and heaven far apart.
They say that we all look for love, we seek it out from up above.
I looked up to the stars above, to see if I could see your love.

We worship him, who’s up above; we worship him we look for love.
You think it’s real, I think it’s not, but no one seems to care a lot.
We need his love, we don’t know why; the story often makes us cry.

The story never told of bees, the bees that sleep amongst the trees.
It always spoke of you and me, but never of the bumble bees.
We wonder if he’s coming back, the man of glory with the ark.
He said he will, but I’m not sure, he promised to look at the poor.

If you believe and you’re not mad, don’t you think that this is sad?
A story that is in book, a story that has been mistook……….

She cannot see..

She cannot see, she is not blind, the eyes she had, were so kind.
Often she will dream of love, the type that comes from up above.
She’s lonely now, she’s in the dark, she’s slowly walking in the park.

She wears the rag so they don’t stare, and they can’t see her walking there.
It’s always night, it’s always dark and she’s walking in the park.
She’s lonely now, she’s in the park, she’s slowly walking in the dark.

She dreams of light, and dreams of day, and dreams of where she used to play.
She wants to be, she wants to see, she wants to see a bumble bee.
If we could give her back her sight and take her from the lonely night.

If only we could understand, the power that is in our hands.
To help someone, who cannot see, and maybe even set them free!
Her voice is silent in the night, it might be cause she’s lost her sight.
She’s lonely now, she’s in the dark, she’s slowly walking in the park.
She’s lonely now she’s in the park, she’s slowly walking in the dark…….

The flood….

The light shines out for all to see, the waters came, it wasn’t me!
The flood it happened in the sea, I think it was the bumble bee.
From where it came, I’ll never know, the waters flowed and flowed and flowed.

We had been warned, we had been told, the future of the world was sold.
We sometimes listen but do not hear, we think it is a time of fear.
He wasn’t happy, he was mad, the sea was tall and getting bad.
The waters deep and dark and blue, it only made me think of you.

We’re now alone, around us sea, the water rises above me.
The flowers gone, and I can see, the dying of a lonely tree.
If only we could understand, this is his place, this is his land.
He gave us life, he gave us hope, we wanted more than just a pope.
We never listen, we never care, it looks as if we’re going nowhere.
We’ve got to think, we got it wrong, we should have heard, the sacred song…

The golden moon….

The golden moon it shines its light, it shines upon the evening night.
The evening light it fades away, and closes out another day.
The light beams streak across the sky, I wonder if they’ll get me high.

The rosy lips, their coloured red, a kiss from them could make us dead.
The apple sits below the tree, it dropped from high and now it’s free.

It’s time to think, If you were free, would you sit under the apple tree.
The serpent snakes they sit and wait, you better watch and shut the gate.
As time goes by, you wait and see, in case we see the bumble bee!

The love gangster….

He broke her heart, he’s out to win, we all think that this is a sin.
He talks about, he walks about, he doesn’t care a jot about.
He never cared, he never will, as he walks smugly down the hill.

The ring of steel is round his heart, it’s always been there from the start.
He knows the game he plays it well, is it so easy for him to sell.
He walks through life without a care, he wonders why there’s no one there.

They love his eyes, they love his smile but they should run a hundred miles.
He won’t commit he never will, he’s always sitting on the hill.
He looks on down from up above and swears that he will share his love.

His hat is tall, his hat is smart, he uses it to break their heart.
He leads them in, he wins their love, and then he takes of like a dove.
If only they could see his wings, they’d go and look at other things.
I think I see, that he may be, the keeper of the bumble bee…..

The tree of life….

The tree of life, it cannot speak, but if it could, would it be weak.
It knows the story from the start, it is a tree, but has heart.
Its eyes are open, but can it see, the tree of life is watching me!

He watched the story, it did unfold, he kept the secret, and has not told.
We stitched his lips, and stitched his eyes, so he could not, tell a lie.
The tree it grows from underground it does not hear a single sound.
It reaches up into the lights, the tree of life it loves the night.

From far away the moon looks down, it shines it’s light upon the crown.
From deep within the serpent crawls, he tries to steal the secret haul.
Do we not care about the tree, it guards our life, it guards the key.
We should do more to save the tree, it gives out life for you and me
and also for the bumble bee……..

The rose….

She knows her name, she has my heart. She always had it from the start.
The symbol of a love forever, I always hope we’ll be together.

In time we got to know each other, it ended up that we were lovers.
We walked a road, we shared the space, it took us to a greater place.

And through the time we met as one the Rose, the symbol of our sons.
I need her more than words can say; it couldn’t be a different way.

We know each other like a book; our love has never been mistook.
She is for me, she is the key, she holds the secret of the bee.

I love her now, I loved her then, I’ll always love her as friend.
The time it comes, the times it goes, I wonder if she ever knows…

The bumble bee….

He seems to come, and then he goes, from here to there but
no one knows.
He has a queen, she has a nest, they tell me that it is the best.
He needs the sun, so he can fly, away from all the butterflies.
He travels here, he travels there, but we can’t see him anywhere.

He works so hard, you’d never know, but he is always on the go.
If not for him, we wouldn’t see the people that we want to be.
He works his magic in the sun, I wonder if he’s having fun.
He has a secret no one knows, he helps to make the flowers grow.

So if you see him, don’t do a thing, or he could hurt you with his sting.
He isn’t bad, he isn’t good; he just thinks he’s misunderstood.
Well let him live, give him a chance, and he will do his magic dance.

Around the flowers he will go, and he will put on quite a show.
Remember this, and don’t forget, the bumble bee has been sent.
Sent to help from up above, so don’t forget to give him love.
Maybe it’s that we can’t see the magic of the bumble bee.

This post was originally published on Your Poems, Your Stories at The Magic Bumble Bee.

Pearly pebbles blanket the shore in varied shades of gray

A lone loon calls for a mate just inside the bay

Pines greet the hazy sky,

Encouraged by the wind

We lay here thinking of our time,

Our reflections bare a grin

Starving our shallows in the feast of our treasures

The happiness may steal our time

But the time we cannot measure

Say anything, say anything

Because the sky sustains our gaze

Counting down,

Age, we will

May we remain within this endless maze

This post was originally published on Your Poems, Your Stories at Just Inside the Bay.