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Omar Jabak

Who Rises to Greatness?

Since time immemorial, since life flourished,
People have craved for pride and freedom,
They fought powerful tyrants and triumphed,
They made sacrifices and rose to stardom.
Unjust has been the cause of cruel dictators,
Whose hands are stained with innocent blood,
Their courts are infested with countless traitors.
They treat their fellow subjects like filthy mud.
They refuse to see them as their human fellows.
They see them as pliable objects with no minds,
They stop to see their problems or their sorrows.
They aim to drive 'No' out of their minds.
'No' sinks deep, though not too low,
It bides its time to sprout and glow.
When pressure piles up beyond measure,
Even a worm may turn against its oppressor.
When this prevails, who is a freedom fan?
Is it the mighty tyrant or the common man?
Who rises to fame and carries the day?
Who loses their lives to have their say?

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Why Friends?

Why Friends?
They say friends should be few but good.
I say friendship is better than brotherhood.
We used to see them too often at school.
They used to make us happy and cool.
We used to play together a lot of times,
And we would sing our childish rhymes.
We would also stand together or fall.
They were the first people to recall.
We grew up to be men or women,
But inside, these memories are hidden.
Every time we need someone to talk to,
We find them there for us and give help, too.
They say a friend to all is false to all,
I agree and stick to this golden rule.
We can be friends to one, two or three,
But more than this we can't be free.
Yet we can be friendly to everyone,
But not friends with everyone.
Friendly is to give people a fair deal,

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To All Mothers

Who are we without our mothers?
Some loveless sisters and brothers!
She is the only one to love with all her heart,
She is the only one to love without any art,
I grew up to be the man I wanted to be,
And she grew older, with me as her baby,
I got married and became a parent,
her love grew and was more apparent,
This is how mothers see us their way,
Not as grown-ups or what we say,
They keep praying for our happiness,
They want nothing for their truthfulness,
We sometimes give them a rough deal,
They always forgive and make us feel,
Ashamed of what we've said and done,
Though what is done cannot be undone,
Suddenly they part with this short life,
And leave us to go on with our strife,
With mixed memories and confused souls,
With heavy hearts and bewildered calls,

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What Would Shakespeare's Beloved Say?

Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?
Please do and let me have my say.

Thou art more lovely and more temperate.
First time I hear this and tend to believe it

Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,
Your words do shake my heart a lot today.

And summer's lease hath all too short a date.
I wish I could say something as great.

Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,
How nice the words, how lovely the signs!

And often is his gold complexion dimm'd;
I wish these nice words were untrimmed.

And every fair from fair sometime declines,
And when we die our memories will be shrines.

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Torture Me No More

Near my longing heart she lives,
I can't be safe ere love she gives,
When I want to be closely near her,
When I advance in both her love and care,
And when the stars watch us here and there,
And when the moon hugs us both me and her,
Then, she, in my sleep, becomes a nightmare,
That would bring misery, pain and despair,
Honey, restore love to me and thee,
For only your love that can really be,
My pulse from birth to death. Just see! !
You are every pulse my heart needs,
You are every brook of love and seeds.

* * * * * * * * * * * *
Let cowards cast aspersions on our love,
Let tale-tellers sustain and prove,
Let slanderers gossip against our love,
Let all know that each other we love,
For does it disturb them to be in love?

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