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Archive for the ‘MY POETRY’ Category

What’s Hell, if not this ?


I know what’s hell, I live right there,
It’s darkness, despair, depression everywhere.
In heat of hatred and flames of bigotry I burn
Where injustice and intolerance are all I discern

Tall, dark, ugly shadows walk all over my mind,
Looking around, graves, just fresh graves are all I find.
Graves filled with quiet remains, of voices who cared,
Ruthlessly were they silenced, because they dared.

Is there anything to live for? Any hope? Any light?
Where chirpy birds are preyed, to vampire bats’ delight.
Air gets scant, scantier with each following breath,
As if getting close and closer to a smothered death.

What’s there to live for, with throats all gagged?
Better to pass myself, before to my grave I’m dragged.
They say dawn shall break, and the long night shall pass,
Have you ever seen a morning, where souls sleep enmasse?

Dedicated to the sad sad kidnapping and murder of Syed Saleem Shahzad.

Category:

MY POETRY, Personal, Poetry, Politics

If I was a Concorde…


If I was a concorde, I would:

Fly with the turbojet of myriad aspirations,
And takeoff to the skies of fathomless imagination.
With supersonic pace, soaring in blissful thoughts,
Reaching to heights where no one could ever get caught,
Into  the tornadoes of bigotry, hate and intolerance,
To an altitude beyond darkness of misery, chaos, ignorance.
Supercruising over the clouds of dreams, desires and hope,
Beaming to have left behind the slow walk on life’s tight rope.
True to my name that spells nothing but ‘unity’ and ‘harmony’,
Vowing to not crashland on a strip metalled with woe and agony.
Hovering over the hills where kindness and love are nourished
Yearning to touchdown where everlasting PEACE is cherished.

PS: Concorde jet’s name, it’s meaning ( means harmony, unity), appearance, speed, and numerous other details have fascinated me since very young. Clearly remembering the first commercial flight in 1976 from Paris to Rio (in my preteens), the crash in 2000 at De Galle Airport, and finally it’s grounding, the fascination fails to wane.

Category:

International, MY POETRY, Peace, Poetry

Meaning of Life…


Life ain’t a mere living,
To wake, to sleep morning evening.
Laden with struggle, sweat and strife.
Tis’ not just to live, but to get a life.

Life to a newborn…
Is a warm embrace on mother’s chest.
Life to a teenager…
Is ‘fit in’ entree into a gang of friends.
Life to an old parent..
Is care and attention from a loving child.
Life to an orphan..
Is a tight hug from a caring arms.
Life to a disabled..
Is self reliant life with honour and dignity.
Life to a labourer..
Is a just wage before the sweat dries.
Life to a beggar ..
Is two square meals each day.
Life to a homeless..
Is a warm sleep in a chilly winter night
Life to a druggie..
Is a syringe load of ‘dose’ gushing through the veins.

Differing in spirit from soul to soul
Unique is the meaning of life in each role.

As pointed by my blogger friend Waltersmith, indeed the:
Life to a druggie…
Is freedom from the compulsive craving for the ‘dose’.

Category:

MY POETRY, Personal, Poetry, Uncategorized

Today I Visited my Home


Today I visited
My true home
A real place that is
My permanent address
The house that I shall
Reside sooner or later

A home that needs
No furniture, no crockery
A home where I shall crave
No wardrobe, no accessories
A home large enough
To give rest and comfort
Never felt in any castle.

A home ventilated
With peace and tranquility
A home proofed against
Greed and vanity.
A home where my companions
Shall be my deeds.

A home with it’s simplicity
That gets me humbled
A home whose modesty
Makes me see the truth
Of what’s life about.

A home that knows me
Neither rich nor poor
Neither young nor old
Neither healthy nor sick
But eagerly awaits me
Whoever I am

A home that is ever ready
To hold me within its lap
Today , tomorrow, any day.
Today I visited
My true abode,
Of my mortal remains
My grave -to-be.

Category:

MY POETRY, Peace, Poetry

Peace Not War, We Crave


Moms weep, “My son, my son.”
Hearts pierced with daggers of pain,
Embracing sons, blood soaked uniforms adorn

Dads moan,”My boy, my boy.”
Tears dried up within their eyes,
As they lay in graves their bundles of joy.

Wives wail, “My man, my man.”
Receiving hubbies in the caskets asleep,
To a final journey, departing forever from their women.

Friends sob, “My buddy, my buddy.”
With brains stunned in utter disbelief,
Knowing they embraced martyrdom standing sturdy.

We all cry, ” Our brave, our brave.”
Horrified how our land with its innocent, burns in terror
It’s for everlasting PEACE, and PEACE NOT WAR we crave.

PS: Penned down in memory of the brave men who laid their lives fighting against the terrorists in PAF Base Faisal, Karachi, and all others who have lost their lives while being front line in the fight against terrorism.

Category:

MY POETRY, Pakistan, Peace, Poetry, Politics

Tagged with:

Fire of Love


Long time ago
Man discovered fire
The fire of vanity
With heat of conceit
Invented the wheel of avarice
Cultivated seeds of tyranny
Raising crops of injustice
Built house of apathy
Erected on pillars of prejudice
Mosques of bigotry
Raised by bricks of hatred.

The DAY man shall
Turn the wheel of generosity
Cultivate seedlings of compassion
Reap the crops of honesty
Make a home of empathy
Raised on pillars of justice
Temples of tolerance
On foundation of peace
That day,
He shall discover fire again,
The FIRE OF LOVE.

Category:

MY POETRY, My world, Peace, Poetry, Politics, Social Issues

Time Stops for None


Yesterday, today, tommorrow
Days, hours, minutes pass
Slipping through life’s clock
To unite with eternity, alas!

Hear the footsteps of past
Fading away slowly
Tomorrow comes there
Marching up steadily

Can we stop today?
And not let it pass.
Oh! it wouldnt listen
It never will, nor ever has.

Fighting back with the fate
Or resigning to being a prey
We’ve got to make the most
Of what life offers today.

Making the journey
Running the race
Fulfilling the goal
With dignity n grace

Jumping the hurdles
With a welcome smile
Fiddling with mischief
Once in a while

Lightening the burden
Of hardships n strife
Making bitter, taste sweet
In this obnoxious life.

Moments from yesterday
Are today’s cherished memories
Tomorrows harsh realities
Are todays endless worries

While embracing the time
Rush! Nail the tasks undone.
As time’s a flying bird
That stops for none.

Category:

MY POETRY, My world

Tagged with:

Obama Osama Heart to Heart


Obama: I loved the way ISI let you stay nearby.

Osama: Yeah, to catch me, they didn’t even try.

Obama: No wonder why, now they feel so shy.

Osama: Say they didn’t know it. Oh what a lie !

Obama: They thought you were, in Afghan mountains high.

Osama: Sure I would if AZ wasn’t a bigger idiot than Karzai.

Obama: Ofcourse who doesn’t know him? That 10% guy.

Osama: He aint so bad. Pasha brought his salams whenever passing by.

Obama: After we nabbed you, did you bid your host goodbye?

Osama: Knowing I’ll be with 72 virgins, “I wanna come too” he began to cry.

Obama: Gosh! You’ll have Seventy two, after all those killings? You lucky guy.

Osama: Huhh and you fools thought t’was for Jehad, those suicide bombers die !

Obama: We killed many in Iraq too. For a place in Heaven, can I also try?

Category:

General, Humour, International, Islam, MY POETRY, Pakistan, Poetry, Politics

Eat, sleep, breathe…dance!~ World Dance Day( April, 29).


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We Dance…

God’s the choreographer
The world’s a dance floor
Our lives are the rhythm
Emotions are the music
We are the dancers,
We dance in laughter,
We dance in tears,
We dance in madness,
We dance in fears,
Dancing in our lives awake
With ambitions we tap
And with hope we shake
To replicate our dreams.

The dance is one of the many human experiences which cannot be suppressed. Dancing has existed at all times, and among all peoples and races. The dance is a form of expression given to man just as speech, philosophy, painting or music.

Apart from war, dancing is the chief factor making for social solidarity in primitive life. The value of dance as a method of individual and national education was recognized as civilization became increasingly self-conscious. In the Laws Plato remarked that a good education includes knowing how to dance and sing well.

Quotes:

”Let us read and let us dance –
two amusements that will never do any harm to the world.”
~ Voltaire

Dancing is the loftiest, the most moving, the most beautiful of the arts, because it is not mere translation or abstraction from life; it is life itself.
~Havelock Ellis

Talk about dance? Dance is not something to talk about. Dance is to dance.
~Peter Saint James

Category:

Art, CULTURE, India, Indo-Pak, International, MY POETRY, Pakistan, Peace, Poetry, Women

Glow Together…


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One candle beats the darkness
Two candles twinkle lil’ more
Ten Candles glow brighter still
A hundred candles glimmer even more
A thousand candles sparkle so much more
A million Candles scintillate a lot lot more
A billion candles illuminate far far far more
Just imagine
If SEVEN BILLION candles light up their hearts and glow TOGETHER :
There shall be brilliant PEACE, lustrous UNITY and shining LOVE, all over.

(Dedicated to World Peace)

Category:

Art, MY POETRY, My world, Peace, Poetry