Sanober Khan Quotes

my dear, I have nothing to say.
my heart burns
like the evening sky.

Like a speeding train
I am passing by...
I don't know
where I'm heading
with whom or why
all I know is that
I will never, ever
pass from here again
all I know is I'm skidding forward
on this track of life.

A single poem
is worth a hundred
cozy winter nights
kind words
and healed wounds.

I am filled time and again
with a heart-aching wonder
when I think

of the fire
and frost of memories

of the everlastingness
of love

the solace
of family
and the power
of prayer.

Every heart must have
its private
bestseller book.

I keep my kindness in my eyes
Gently folded around my iris
Like a velvety, brown blanket
That warms my vision

I keep my shyness in my hair
Tucked away into a ponytail
Looking for a chance to escape
On a few loose strands in the air

I keep my anger on my lips
Just waiting to unleash into the world
But trust me; it's never in my heart
It evaporates into words

I keep my dignity upon my chin
Like a torch held up high
For those who have betrayed me
Radiating a silent, strong message

I keep my gratitude in my smile
A glistening waterfall in the sun
Gently splashing at that person
Who made me happy for some reason

I keep my sensitivity in my hands
Reaching out for your wet cheek
Holding you, with all the love
The love I want to share, and feel

I keep my passion in my writing
My words breathing like fire
Screeching against an endless road
As I continue to be inspired

I keep my simplicity in my soul
Spread over me like a clear sky
Reflecting all that I am
And all that's ever passed me by

And I hope you will look
Beyond my ordinary face
My simple, tied hair
My ordinary tastes
And I hope you will see me
From everyone...apart
As I keep my beauty
in my heart.

To fall in love with someone's thoughts - the most intimate, splendid romance.

you were
and always will be

that first ever touch
to have fertilized
the ground
beneath my life's trees

that first ever rose
to have fragranced
the rest of my memories.

What's a rainy day
without some delicious
coffee-flavoured loneliness?

I live there...
Far above the song-filled clouds,
where the dewdrops touch my skin so bare
I live there.

When I write...
I am in the fond arms
of a childhood friend
upon whose colorful heart I can hang
the charcoal drawings
of my woes.

Give me
a moon-blanket night
to keep me warm

a long-gone smile
to comfort me

a pair of rain-blue eyes
to haunt me

a simple soul
...to love me.

kisses explode
when...
someone
believes in me

when my heart cries out
a song of thanks
to yours.

kisses... are
and always will be

the only language

that I will have
ever truly known.

I write because there are things in me that cannot die.

When admiring other people's gardens, don't forget to tend to your own flowers.

when whispered
what an exquisite
song, it makes-
your name.

let my heart always be
like it is...this very moment
ready to explode...with love
a violent rainstorm...
with no stream
no ocean vast enough
to flow into.

You only have to do one good thing to be in somebody's lifetime of prayers.

be the kiss in my hair
that no one sees

move, when i move
sigh, when i sigh...

be that line from a poem
that i hold in my eyes.

I want to have a romance so grand,
it would have made Shakespeare fumble for words.

violent storms. and beautiful smiles. both have electricity. both are equally destructive in nature.

my love is a winter's mist
gently dissolving
through the window
at the nape of your neck.

If I began to draw
myself away from you

we'd still be like
two mixed colors of paint
impossible to separate.

i want to be
in love with you

the same way
i am in
love with the moon

with the light
shining
out of its soul.

how these words, wait to die
in the arms of all the poetry..
yet to be written.

slow down, oh sweet tears
flowing nectar...down my lashes' tips

someday
someone will kiss you away,
even before you can reach my lips.

The most beautiful, amazing and inevitable fact about life-
Everything has a natural healing
process.

for we all have
our own

twilights
and mists
and abysses

to return to.

If I'm not around
I hope you'll remember me
and together we will hold on to our favorite song.

I want to read every book that's written
hear every song that was sung
I want to gaze at every cloud
and hold the zing of each fruit on my tongue.

the ocean mist
engulfs me, like a lifetime's
friendship honored.

when i speak to you
i speak as though
i am offering a rose
in your hand.

..i spill into
the kind of silence
only Khalil Gibran would understand.

The magic fades too fast
the scent of summer never lasts
the nights turn hollow and vast
but nothing remains...nothing lasts.

Sometimes the rain
falls
just for you and me

to be the violin
playing
in the background
of our loneliness's song.

it was the kind of moon
that I would want to
send back to my ancestors
and gift to my descendants

so they know that I too,
have been bruised...by beauty.

Drink in the moon as though you might die of thirst.

funny how our hearts
were designed
to love
so fiercely.

but break
ever so gently.

Once in a while i am struck
all over again... by just how blue
the sky appears .. on wind-played
autumn mornings, blue enough

to bruise a heart.

a flower knows, when its butterfly will return,
and if the moon walks out, the sky will understand;
but now it hurts, to watch you leave so soon,
when I don't know, if you will ever come back.

even
in the loneliest moments

i have been there
for myself.

Poems are soft kitten furs. smoothing out the rough edges of my world.

May our twilights mix together
like breath and breathlessness.

your smile.
is the ultimate
golden dream.
all the poems
in the world
are waking up from.

i want to
stay curled and cosied
and chocolated....forever
in my mother's arms.

the sapphire depth
of my own love...startles
and warms
and wounds my soul.

love
wounds me
with soft pillows
with tender lips
and fingers

An animal in pain is the saddest thing on Earth.

When you left
you left behind a field
of silent flowers
under a sky
full of unstirred clouds...you left
a million butterflies
mid-silky flutters

You left like midnight rain
against my dreaming ears

Oh and how you left
leaving my coffee scentless
and my couch comfortless

leaving upon my fingers
the melting snow of you

you left behind
a calendar full of empty days
and seasons full of aimless wanders

leaving me alone
with an armful of sunsets

your reflection behind
in every puddle
your whispers
upon every curtain
your fragrance
inside every petal

you left your echoes in between
the silence of my eyes

Oh and how you left
leaving my sands footless
and my shores songless

leaving me with windows full of
moistened moonlight

nights and nights
of only a half-warmed soul

and when you left...
you left behind a lifetime
of moments untouched

the light of a million stars
unshed

and when you left
you somehow
left my poem...unfinished.



(Published in Taj Mahal Review Vol.11
Number 1 June 2012)

i am infinitely yearning
brimming
and overflowing
in words

i discover
it's another way
for me
to be in tears.

some winters
will never melt

some summers
will never freeze

and some things will only
... live in poems.

I had embraced you...
long before i hugged you.

all my life
i have looked for poems

to elope with.

the nights would be orphaned
without the sound of crickets chirping.

for those memories are now
just like these little kittens
I hold in my hands

those can be kissed
and treasured
but not held too tightly.

your gaze
across
my cheeks

turned them
into
strawberry fields.

I breathe in...
the fragrance
of love, and moist sand
the one
his roses left
on both my hands

I just keep on breathing
every moment
as much as I can
preserving it, in my body
for the day
it can't.

i am
always
stalking you, my dear.

with my thoughts
my words.
my breath.

Sometimes
the things that make you cry
are more beautiful
than the things
that make you laugh.

Some days I don't know what is greater.
My wisdom, or my stupidity.

There is
something
mystically
sad
and beautiful
about
how
i will
never
see you
again

but
meet you
again
and again

in poetry.

may
this poetry
be the home
you will someday
come back to.

i have laughed
more than daffodils
and cried more than June.

It is kind of ridiculous that a poet is expected to live in the real world.

When it comes
to love
do not ever
settle
for anything
less than magical.

I breathe in...the silence
of my own heart
aching with tenderness
with memories..
Of home.

Look, moon
I turned silver for you.

You are that one breath. that puts all the remaining breaths. back into my body.

The world is thinning
and the earth...it's still spinning

my world is thinning
and it's all because
of one person I'm missing.

depth and substance.
the two most exquisite qualities.
be it in a poem
or a person.

in the afterglow
of an evening rain

i lay down
in the grass
and think of you

my body aches
like an after-kiss

breaking in soft fires
and wildflowers

my dear,
i will always be
this tender for you.

you make autumn mist
taste like champagne

and turn winter rain
into the elixir of life itself.

moonlight disappears down the hills
mountains vanish into fog
and i vanish into poetry.

Look at
how deeply flawed
we are

and yet
capable of loving
so perfectly.

I have woken up…quite sloshed
from night-mingled rains
a little drugged, by mountain fogs
I have been kidnapped
for years....by a mere kiss.

my mother
is pure radiance.

she is the sun
i can touch
and kiss

and hold
without
getting burnt.

to be a poet means
to live
with a permanent wound

forever
susceptible
to either

the shade
of the sky

or someone's eyes.

As the sky prepares to settle its tired, aching feet
into the night's velvet slippers

I settle, into my armchair, soaking the teabag,
of my thoughts, into warm liquidy stars.

Poetry has saved me on occasions when people couldn't.

Do not turn me
into
restless waters

if you cannot promise
to be my stream.

a silent night. - the most eloquent poem i have ever read.

I find it incredibly amazing how at every sunset, the sky is a different shade. No cloud is ever in the same place. Each day is a new masterpiece. A new wonder. A new memory.

i am permanently
tanned
in the summer of poetry.

in a world
full of
temporary things

you are
a perpetual
feeling.

what is
more beautiful

tears, in someone's eyes
for me
or in my eyes
for them.

A rain like melting pillows…
a rain so beautiful

I could never
have let go of

if not certain
that someday...it would find its way
into my poem.

tread carefully
into my life, my dear.

the currents
are strong.

you will get lost
in this
warm ocean
of my skin.

Whatever you get out of poetry - take it. take it. take it.
Words are better off felt than understood.

Words
are powerful
forces of nature.

they are destruction.
they are nourishment.
they are flesh.
they are water.
they are flowers
and bone.

they burn. they cleanse
they erase. they etch.

they can either
leave you
feeling
homeless

or brimming
with home.

As long as I can hear the sweet melody of your words,
I need not;
The angel's secret, to be whispered in my ears

As long as I can lace your silky fingers round my own,
I need not;
Pretty diamonds, nor big cash nor gold

As long as I can watch the handsome sunshine of your face,
I need not;
Open skies, nor snowfall, nor the rain

As long as I can gaze into the emeralds of your eyes,
I need not;
New colors, new wings or paradise

As long as I can feel the tender tickle of your breath,
I need not;
The drifting wind, nor its call, nor caress

As long as I can feel your soft lips upon mine,
I need not;
Melted sugar, nor the most expensive of wines

As long as I can feel your warm body close to me
I need not;
A blanket, nor a bonfire's luxury

As long as I can see you every morning I wake,
I need not;
A mirror, nor a cloud, nor shade

As long as I can keep you in every petal of memories
I need not:
Dreams, nor desires, nor fantasies

And as long as I can hold you in every moment that I breathe,
I need not;
Oxygen, nor blood, nor heartbeats.

For you
i have saved poems
under my skin.

Fall in love
with the energy
of the mornings

trace your fingers
along the lull
of the afternoons

take the spirit
of the evenings
in your arms
kiss it deeply

and then
make love
to the tranquility
of the nights.

how is it that
he's always
in my thoughts.

even when
i am not
thinking.

Maybe life is all about twirling under one of those midnight skies,
cutting a swathe through the breeze
and gently closing your eyes.

the time will come, my dear
when I will hold you close

and all will be
right again
in the world.

when I finally begin to drift
into sleep
your memory is the...first
and the moonlight
the last, to kiss my face.

this life
has been
a landscape
of pain

and still,
flowers
bloom in it.

You should be more careful
when you move, my dear
what with you...

spilling moonlight
into my poem, with a mere
flick of your hand.

Hands.
Cheeks.
Eyes.
Lips.
Neck.
Ears.
Thighs.
Heart.
Soul.

Ahh!
the things I get to
savor you with.