He stretched his alienated existence
Under the embellished blanket of a calm night
But sleep rejected to embrace his weariness,
Instead handed him over
To the Imperial clutches of insomnia
And his frustrated gazes wandered
To chat with the desolations of night.
Nothing in the night was appealing
Apart from the elegance of bright moon
Shining, miles away like a new hope
On the horizon of his melancholy.
He secretly whispered to her
The reasons of his despondency
And like every other beautiful creature
The callous moon denied him sanctuary
And responded by hiding herself
Beneath the the layer of ominous clouds.

© Badee Uz Zaman

The nations of the world,
Delinquented by;
The cheapest wine
Of modern democracy,
Chant the slogans of
Equality, liberty and fraternity
But, when this structure
Is looked through
With pragmatic prisms,
This world appears to be
An imbalanced chariot
Driven by
The forces of anarchy.
In the west you see;
The economic liberty
While the east is caught in
Hunger and poverty.
One side is packed with
Neuclear factories,
While others are fractured by
Communal armies.
The structural imbalances
Will never cease to exist
Tis constantly fueled by
The injected worms of
Racism, regionalism
And above all
Demented liberalism.

02/01/2017

© Badee Uz Zaman.

The hovering
of dark clouds ******
my stale memories,
the exultant memories
of ominous days.
when my breaths scrambled in
suffocated corridors
Of acute treachery,
like the irresolute wick of
a lamenting candle
survives the gushing wafts
of wrathful wind, only to enter
another phase of
unspeakable horror.
Oh! Dear candle,
my candid pathfinder of
apocalyptic nights,
cursed you are.
thawing your being
in service of this
barbaric world,
they blow you off forever
in just one exhale of
tampering frustration
naming you
the heartless murderer
of romantic moths.

Dear diary, today is the day-
The day of communion,
The day of impregnation,
After a series of cursed sterile nights.
So, dare not to hoist any **** excuse
To stay behind the draperies of modesty
And hide your immaculate flesh
From the ferocious tip of
My hungry dying pen.
Let your voluptuous pages
Woo the ink out of my pen
So that, its strangulated wish
To scrawl a masterpiece,
May finally get materialized
On the contours of your *****.


©Badee Uz Zaman

Oh my callous beloved!
Fabricate an excuse
To visit;
The wretched hovel of
Your secluded lover.
Come once and watch me;
Parched are my thoughts
And bleeding are my senses.
These ominous silences
Have placed me under
The sharp blades of
Taunting apprehensions.
The Draught hit streams
Of our blazed rendezvous
Appeal the clouds of thy mercy.
Amid the dreadful darkness
Of this lamenting night
Your jubilant return is
The only ray of hope.

Will not you come ...??

© Badee Uz Zaman.

A commotion caused
By hideous huddle
Of feigning friends
In the bleeding Bossom
Of a limping lover
Has silently smeared
His frenzied faith
With the plagued paints
Of acute apathy.
Deceived dejected
Defamed and defeated,
He bluntly barged
Into the restricted realm
Of appealing atheism
To test the taste of
Resurrection.

© Badee Uz Zaman

He recalled
The harrowing times
         of the delightful past.
When his cavalcade of love
          paraded the valleys of treason.
When the fountain of loyalty was
         suffocated by immaculate treachery.
When the lofty emotions were
          colonized by scorching beauty.
When torment itself meant sooth.
When none but
she plundered him miserably.
And his companions hijacked by desolation......
All he wants is a corridor of shame
     where he could invest
his earned looses beneath the agonizing walls of anonymity.
Do him a favor, arrange it for him....

Will not you....? ? ? ?

I've seen you,
Oh! The desolated desk of mine
Screaming in pain
Over the one sided love of
The ****** pages of that
Ill- fated diary,
Which years for one last kiss
From it's beloved pen.
The stone-hearted pen,
As you call it, has divorced them
For no reasons, you think ?
You know naught of the torment,
The pen is enduring in separation
Of it's only confidant.
You know naught of the cabal,
The merciless world conjured
To ensure it's  secret riddance
From the gloomy rendezvous.
I'm witness to the crazy howling
Which it made
In the lonesome nights
I've seen it's tip
drenched in grief, searching for
The soothing Bossom of it's love
The tale of it's agony
Is the only medal,
The guardians of love have gifted him.
The pen is innocent and so is it's love,
But the pitiless world will understand naught
The desire of the pages and
The helplessness of the pen
So let them suffer, it's their fate.

© Badee Uz Zaman.

Let me make this promise fickle
To entomb my complaints morbid
In the impregnable dustbins of
Some anonymous corridors.
Let you invent thousand excuses
To conceal thy wishes ruptured.
Let you deny those eyes scorched
Even the clues of beads priced.
Let's suffer silently in this night
The exultant rays will shine again
Let the swing of time be the Messiah
It will cause our emotions to rise again.

©  Badee Uz Zaman

Spare no expense tonight
my dear,
to dissect my agitated heart
and strangle
every complaintive syllable
Sprouting in it.
Let the merciles lances of
your scornful blushes
Haunt every corner
of this ruptured flippant.
Let the rapacious looks
of your aggrieved eyes
Squeeze out of it,
the remaining drops
of inauspicious hope.
let the vulturous howling
of your choicest curses
Suppress the tunes of
unfulfilled promises.
my dear the prestigious
draperies concealing
the agonising tale of
thy inclemencies
are about to fall, come
Save the face of love.
Come my dear as my breaths
Await thy last appearance
Come before my sick beats
Will divorce my pierced *****.

Will not you come?

His spacious heart
is brimmed with
unspeakable grief now.
It can be soothed
where in this land of felony?
The desolated gardens
of his emotions
wear a blazed and a parched look.
What they can appeal
other than the showers of your compassion?
The shadows of despondency
run in tandem to his unpropitious walk.
It can be sliced
by what other than
your luminous company?
You are the only obstinacy of his naivety,
he
baffles death on your hope,
your arrival can
set free his baked soul.

Will not you come..? ? ?

REPOST:::

Oh the imperious whiffs
of this nefarious breeze

dare not to enter
the somber chambers
of my wretched heart

for this decorous sufferer
is drenched in sobs
packed with
limping complaints
inscribed
on its strewn crimson walls
lend them no passage out

let obscurity grasp them
in merciless clutches
until my soul
divorces my body
forever

© Badee Uz Zaman

If a nation suppressed
For centuries together
Will discover the potential
Disguised in their resilience,
The surrendered hopes of
This nation tormented
Will be resuscitated
In their darkest hour.
Break not the silences
And let them escape not
The ominous dungeons
Of enforced anarchy.
It's better to watch them
From a distance safer
And ensure their slavery
Lives for ever.
So let not me speak
The despondency of my heart
And abide by this principle
Some words are bound
To remain unsaid.

© Badee Uz Zaman

Blessed is he;
To have around
A magical circle
Of selfless friends
Or should I call his well-wishers!
They rightly have scolded him
For being a cliché
And boring the audience
With the pangs of his unrequited love.
He then tried to explore
Opportunities afresh
And liberated his imaginations
From the shackles of morbidly.
He appealed to the nature
To offer his wandering eyes
Those springs of beauty
Where the bluntness of his wits
Could get some sharpening
But the nature was busy
And turned him down with a cold heart.
Then he tried to focus on
The bruises of aggression
Printed on the landscape
of his unfortunate motherland.
The attack on her chastity
Had left on on her soul
The marks of deep scars
To be discerned by his decayed mind.
He gave up the idea and returned with
Defeated looks and broken zeal.

#I_quit

© Badee Uz Zaman

The sunset today was clear and nostalgic
Accompanied by,
The fragrances of exultant days;
When I used to savour it's beauty
In the salubrious environs of "Dal lake".
When my lassitude was incised by;
The sharp blades of tender grass
Surrounding the soothing fountains
In the lush green parks of  "Nishat garden".
When the unruffled splashes of  breeze
Coming from the dense deodars,
Nailed on the chest of "Zabarwan",
Purged my soul of its exertion.
Then arrived that ugly moment,
When the shine of a beautiful face
Crushed my reason to guided my steps
Into the kingdom of tyrannical love.
The sanative breezes were replaced by
The howling of unruly storm
Which ferried with it the messages of
Butchering days and desolate nights.
Oh the last shades of sulked sun!
Will you rise again on my horizon?
I am now holding my last breath
To meet my life one more time.

© Badee Uz Zaman

The castle of his dreams,
Erected on an illusive plinth,
Designed by the deceptions of love
Was struck by a bolt inauspicious.
The calamity reduced his castle to a debris
And squeezed every drop of jubilation
Out of his audacious heart.
His life is now brimmed with
The shades of unspeakable grief;
With his every faculty choked,
He resolved to vent his horrors
On a sheet of untainted paper.
He fueled his pen with the blood of his veins
And scribble some aching elegies
In memory of his mortified love
And in anticipation of lasting respite.
But to his plight, Aah!
The malevolent world of lovers,
Drenched in their own pangs,
Haunt solace in the beauty of his verses.
The maimed lover displays to the world,
The brusies of his punctured heart,
The world hurls back praises galore
For his unique styles and screeching verses.

© Badee Uz Zaman

Oh! the pride of my destitution;
With folded hands I implore,
the dead mercy in thee;
Stay a bit longer, don't go.

Don't go before my impudence
Narrates you the torture,
Your devotee has suffered
In absence of thy compassion.

The nostalgic reverberations
Painted the silhouette of
My empty silent nights,
With the brushes of insomnia.

The growling of first breeze
With the breaking of dawn,
Reminded me of those looks
The tantalising world was about to hurl.

Will you silently survive,
The excruciation of my day?
Maybe you're too anxious
But my vocals are tired.

© Badee Uz Zaman

Bewitching was the night,
And resplendent its favour
It brought me your sculpture,
In my midnight's dream.

My  Aphrodite! you looked,
Brighter than the moon
As you brushed the tresses ,
Away from your face.

Witching were the effects,
Of your aberrant  presence
My soul offered an ablution,
With the wafts of tranquility.

The serenity soon vanished,
When I asked for your hand
But you offered me a look,
Of an infuriated goddess.

My dreamland got stained,
With the colours of gloom
Divine was your clemency
And insolent my infidelity.

I should never have dared,
To beseech your hand
Into the cursed realm of
My unending ignominy.

©Badee Uz Zaman

The reminisces of golden days
Will never cease to reverberate;
They will strangulate his silences,
And exasperate his afflictions.
In the hollow tunnel of his imaginations,
They will sprinkle scents of mortifications.
The parched cracks on his lips,
Will receive the rains of insinuations.
His crimson eyes will be shaded with
The opaque pigment of humiliations.
His recluse world will be linked with,
Pangs, pains and penitence.

© Badee Uz Zaman.

I meet my shadow in the deepening shade,
To live the moment of surprising glory;
When my gloom was incised eternally
I will be telling you my love story.
The jubilant lyrics of affection
Were played by the evening breeze,
In the backyard of my dark house
Shadowed the tones of melancholy.
The mellifluous chores of "cuckoo"
Intensified the decorations
And there entered my seraphic beloved,
To resuscitate my dying buoyancy.
My consternations divorced my hem
When the amiable gazes kissed my cheeks
Those serpentine tresses prepared a shade
Where my cauterised heart found solace.

© Badee Uz Zaman

A storm is whirling in my frenzied heart
That my fragile chest can no more hold
Oh! the penurious ink of my dried pen
scrawl my ravings and let them be told
My crime is naught, but I've loved
those eyes than the precious gem and gold
My own scourge is taunting my pride
can my chronicle be ever that much bold
my aimless walk in my wretched world
is an agonizing tale of emotions cold

©Badee Uz Zaman

REMORSE

Behind the dilapidated doors
Of his abandoned chest,
An aged poet discovered
The reed of his dead beloved.
His clumsy fingers hesitantly grabbed
The calloused waist of the reed
To attempt his rusted competence
Under the light of regretting moon.
As the sharp tip of the reed touched
The crumbled papers of poet's dairy
The wishes of the poet vanished
And he only could sketch some oozing scars.
His Grief was dangling from every word
And every sentence was an untold story
That the poet had been assembling
In the rebellious corners of his aggrieved heart.
The poet wrote:
"The time since your demise has been cruel,
It has plundered this old man's every smile.
The sunken lines of my fate rendered barren,
And my only crutch broken beyond repair."
How could the dreary mourner of love,
Cease to shed a perennial stream of tears
How could her reflection not haunt his isolation
How could he escape those lashes on his soul..!!!

© Badee Uz Zaman

The roads I trudged were carpeted with,
Mourning silences and reigning howls.
My trembling steps were  greeted  by,
Stings vicious and dreadful hisses.
The inauspicious journey drained me off,
The will to walk and cross the desert.
Beyond that desert rested the garden,
The voices of love, and glimpses of calm.
My maimed heart got brimmed with,
Wishes anxious and grief appalling.
My parched lips cursed my fate,
When some voices devine called my name.
My ominous shadow was shadowed by
The puny hands and faces angelic.
My whelmed soul yelled a prayer
And my broken pen got ressurected.
Oh! The avatars of innocence
May you live forever!
With magical smiles and flowering heart.
Your presence in my nebulous life
Has chased away the obdurate agony.

© Badee Uz Zaman

Tormenting are the times
When your wits are drenched,
Like a fugitive in concertina,
In the quagmire of confusions.
When holding your speech seems
The murderer of your confidence
And hurling your ambiguity
Thrashes your importance.
These are the pinching times
When your vocals,
in defiance of mind and up in the arms
Constantly wrestle with your patience.
The strange grimace on your face
Becomes your unwanted emblem,
Attempts to overcome win you nothing
But disgusted frustration and consternations
In these heart-wrenching times
You're engulfed in flames of extinction
Then your friend bails you out,
Whom you notoriously have named
The dried and the broken Pen.