Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Har haal mein hum khush reh le,

Gujarish hai bs mera humsafar har janam mile.



Tabeez bnkar har buri nazar se mai unhe bacha lu,

Apni har saans mai har janam unke sang likh du.



Ye saanse agar tham bhi jayein,

Aye mere sanam aap humesha mere sang rahein.



Ye uljhi hui haathon ki lakeer,

Aapke aane se sajti hai taqdeer.



Mere rom rom bs ek hi hai naam,

Aye khuda padh le mere naam se aaya paigaam.



Daaman failaye fariyaad hai tujhse,

Humesha jode rakhna mujhe unse.



Wo mile sab kuch paa liya maine,

Aur kuch na ab mujhe chahiye.



Ankhiyon ko sukoon milta,

Jab chehra unka dikh jaata.



Is rani ki jaan tou hai wo raja,

Unhi ki badault meri maang mein sindoor saja.



Har koi chahta hai us aasmaan ke chaand ko,

Mera chaand tou mere paas humesha **.



Sajda karu mai unki is rooh ko,

Suche moti se bhi saacha hai unka dil wo.



Poori kayenaat samet ke meri jholi mein daal di,

Is dil ki saanse tou us dil se humesha humesha ke liye judi.



Wo saath hain tou mera khuda hai mere pass,

Behad pyaara hai unka aur mera dil ka har ehsaas.



Jab raakh ** jayegi ye kaaya meri,

Mujhe har pal sukoon pahuchayegi awaaz wo teri.



Saanse rahe na rahe mere saathiya,

Humesha mere sang rehna mere mahiya.



Jab umar ki ye naiya bhawar badal legi,

Chehre ki chamak apne rang badal degi.



Fir bhi aap humesha mere sang rehna,

Mujhe aapse bs yahi hai kehna.



Bikhre bikhre se they hum pehle,

Aapke aane se is zindagi mein phul khile.



Mere pass shabd hi nahi hain ki kaise us uparwale ka ,

Mai shukriya ada karu? Aap mile sab kuch mil gaya.



Jab ye waqt khafa hone lagega mujhse,

Ye duniya bhi saath chhor degi aas rhegi tujhse.



Har kadam par saath rehna mere sanam,

Tere siwa koi nahi hai mera humdum.



Ye qismat humari bhut khel hai khelti,

Dil ki dadhkane har pal aapko talaashti.



Chahe kaisa bhi ** manjar,

Zameenein hongi banjar.



Tab bhi mere sang rehna.

Bs yhi hai aapse kehna.



Aapke ye ardhangini humesha hai aapke saath,

Haathon mein liye hardum aapka haath.



Chahe waqt badle ya taqdeer khel khele,

Har pal aapki biwi milegi aapko lagaye seene se .



Kuch nahi chahiye humein,

Neele gagan ke neeche kahin bhi aapke sang rehle.



Bs aap saath rehna,

Itna hi mujhe kehna.
Na hai humein chand ki chahat na hi taaron ki farmaiysh,

Aap mile har janam bs itni si hai humari khwaiysh.



Dil se sacchi mohabbat krte hain dil se nibhayenge,

Har mod par aap humein apne sang humesha payenge.



Sirf saath jeene tak ki mohabbat nahi hai humari,

Zindagi ke baad ki bhi zindagi hai tumhari.



Na hai humein chand ki chahat na hi taaron ki farmaiysh,

Aap mile har janam bs itni si hai humari khwaiysh.



Bahut kareeb se mehsus kiya hai aapko meelon dur hote hue bhi,

Ye ehsaas ki gehrayi sab par bhari hai chahe kitni ** duri.



Bhale hi laparwaah ** hum par aapki parwaah karte hain hadd se jyada,

Hey ishwar har dua mein bs yhi hu mangti humein karna nahi kabhi juda.



Na hai humein chand ki chahat na hi taaron ki farmaiysh,

Aap mile har janam bs itni si hai humari khwaiysh.



Hum zinda hain tou sirf unki badaulat,

Waasta hai tumhein humara kasam se ki hai sacchi mohabbat.



Ishwar ka Kohinoor hai hamare daaman mein,

Sabse gehra rishta hai is dil ka us dil se.



Na hai humein chand ki chahat na hi taaron ki farmaiysh,

Aap mile har janam bs itni si hai humari khwaiysh.
False Poets Feb 2018
there is no value in a poem that reads
_____
_____
____­
M M l i f e s u c k s x x x n o p o e m i g o t

just

nerve; crap bs, a denial of craft

seek the intelligent intelligible,
kiss the sensational thrill that
emotion harvests with resonating tenses
that beg our brains to differ, sense

this claims,
there is no value in no words is
a hoax cloaked as art by the weak,
make thy metaphors metastasize,
my every cell, a preposition,
preposterous and precious and
comforting in their
privations and provocations

speak to us in alpha and
line our eyes wide,
with pictures at an exhibition
of a faun immobile and beauteous

let me hang on every word of yours and
let it be the raft that sees me happily
unsafe home

take your bs line poem  
shove it down your silent voice

this is not avant garde; this is insulting

p.s.  write me a smile and all will be_____
.
JoJo Nguyen Aug 2013
I'm not religious.
I'm not even spiritual.
I'm just a cold, soft Vulcan.

The system of the down
has isolated me here
to think, which is what a Vulcan
does all the time.
It's really pointless.

It is desert, hot and cold
served in deprivation,
meditation, and
solitude.

The system has been doing
this for eons.
It's called increasing
systemic risk when stressed.

I make a cognitive chunk
for you to cogitate
over coffee.

Picture this.

Wandering Boy Scouts (BS)
in their pickup trucks,
helpful, strong,
vicious when aimless,
efficiently cruel,
mechanized abattoir makers
mass pit diggers,
merit badge takers.

Smell the BS.

It all goes into baking
gooey brownie BS,
repugnantly pungent,
and redolent of sweet
burning flesh.

Stressed, the down system
spits BS out
randomly to nucleate,
and procreate if possible.

Breeding a new Brand,
with Cult leader Classes
and all the -isms.

Visionaries with their caries;
Pushers with agendas hidden;
Leaders steadfast in conviction,
taking a nation, against
all odds, in Battling Bulges,
****** lines hidden
within clean, pleated
leather skirts
that still reveal penciled
seams up straight
shaved bare legs.

This is how the system
shakes itself; auto  
****** asphyxiation.

Vulcan's never shake
the bars of their cells
because there's no barring
except Great Walls
forbidding, with a wink,
killing each other.

To be thy Greek brother's keeper,
is to cut not that brother man,
but the other brother man
down with BS fervor and ***;
madness, before bondaging
his wounds in mummified
State, taped shut  
with a healing kiss.

To have dominion
over the animals
means a bludgeoned
pleasure, or
transplanted
desire.

Dominion to exploit
blunted, unconditional,
emotional resources,
until the system
gels again, vaginally
or astrolly whole.
Matadi  Jul 2018
Stereotypical BS
Matadi Jul 2018
Pretty girls don't cry
Guess with all the makeup how could I
Ladies don't drink
Guess with all my pain ill just Take your man
Sober
Cuz i'm pretty right?

Stereotypical Diva, She too quiet
Guess she stuck up
She's gotta be a ***, why she always lucks up?
Sugar baby,Slays
Waist training made her that way

The world is insecure
Lots of pain that we endure
reflecting judgment on others, to forget our demonic flaws
Bs ek tamanna hai agar janam mile fir se,
Meri sacchi mohabat mujhe har janam mein mile.

Zindagi ka har pal khubsurat hai jab aap saath **,
ye dil shiddat se chahta hai sirf aapko.

Aap dharti kya jahan bhi honge,
Aapki khusbu se hum aapko pehchaan lenge.

Aankh band kar dadhkano se pehchaan lenge,
Din maheene saal guzarte jayenge.

Pyar mein aapke har pal har lamha badhte jayenge,
Jab jab janam lenge hum sirf aur sirf aapke rahenge.

Ye dil sirf us dadhkan ki hai pehchaan,
Aapki rooh mein basti hai hamari jaan.

Har dua mein us rabb se hum aapko maangte,
Is dil mein sirf aap hi ** rehte.

Dil bhi bekaraar hain aapse milne ko,
Khushnaseeb hain hum jo aap humein mile **.

Saare jahan ki hasi aapke labe par saja de khuda,
Aapse  kabhi nahi hongey hum juda.

Har saans par hamari hai aapka naam,
Aapke bin zindagi hai gumnaam.

Chand ki chandani madhamm padh sakti,
Phulon ki khusbu feeki ** jaati.

Hamari sacchi mohabbat ki khusbu is qadar faile,
Ki dharti ke yug bhi kam padh jaaye.

Karte hain kkhuda se hum gujarish,
Aapki mohabbat ke siwa koi bandagi ki na ** baarish.

Chahe hazaaron dafa waqt le le hamare imtehaan,
Nahi chhodenge hum aapka saath meri jaan.

Kuch ehsaason ke saaye dil ko chhu jaate,
Zindagi mein phul khil jaate jha aap kadam rakhte.

Gulaab tou kaaton mein bhi khila hain karte,
Kabhi kabhi apne bhi paraya kar dete.

Shukriya hai aapka jab hazaaron log khilaaf hote hum khuda kehte,
Tab sirf aap hi ** jo hamara haath thame hamare saath khade rehte.

Khubsurat hai har subah aur har shaam,
Achaa lagta hai hamara naam jab judta aapka naam.

Aap saath hain tabhi khush hai saara chaman,
Aapse mohabbat karne ko le le hum hazaro janam.

Aap jaise dost milte hain taqdeer walon ko,
Mile yhi taqdeer aur is dil mein sirf aap rho.

Aapki rag rag se waakiff hain hum,
Saath hain humesha mere humdum.

Bs ek tamanna hai is dil mein,
Har janam mein aap hi hamare mahadev bane
Marina La Verde Feb 2018
A lump in my throat like I dry swallowed pills
Replaces the excitement that I no longer feel
And there is no explanation, no reason why
That can satisfy this feeling, it can't be justified
No child, no teen, no student should feel
Fear and anxiety just going to school
We want an education
We don’t want to be shot
Accept your “thoughts and prayers”
No! We will not.
“There’s nothing to be done” while you sit and collect
The NRA might pay you but we will not let
This keeps happening over and over
We won’t sit idle while our friends are deprived the right of growing older.
All because of you and your stupid *** laws
“We call BS” look at the pain you’ve caused
So many dead, and it won't stop there
“We call BS” because we know you don’t care
We want change, not your “thoughts and prayers”
“America the Great” “The Land of the Free”
Free to buy guns so easily
“Guns don’t ****, people do”
But if he’d had a knife, I might still have you
“We call BS”, If I was green they would care
“We call BS” We shouldn’t have to be scared
Cyril Blythe Aug 2012
I gulp down an Energy-Booster-X,
blue and sour.
Siri turns on Radiohead,
15 Step.

I step up to the pyramid of treadmills,
bouncing and salty.
Surrounded by Greek gods,
Beta, Alpha Gam, Pike.

I motivate myself by my surroundings,
bulging and ****.
Cardio first and then core,
2 miles, 200 crunches.

I connect my sweat in a line down my shirt,
blotchy and stagnant.
Everyone stretches in the end,
Thighs, biceps, pecs aflame.

I will not stop until I am perfection,
beautiful and sculpted.
Alarm set again,
For 6:30am, 7:30pm
Dead Rose One Mar 2015
In The Prison Of Winter, No Rise, No Set**

orbit nearly closed,
the radio announcer gleefully
chirruping, the twittering fool,
"only ** graves to X off till
                                               spring"

the weight of the prior
the wait of the more
no matter how little
yet to come
                    too much insufferable

having suffered
multiple life sentences
you snit ****, u don't know better,
ha, they don't even run
                                         concurrently


there are no sunsets
in the girding grays
of harsher enough and words that fail me,
are the winners in the
winter of the ****,
tests and hunts,
I have successfully
                                 failed

of course I'm wrong you
petulant hobgoblin wringing
nyet from me you'll get no concession,
**** science,
there are no sunsets in the winter
and the sunrises,
short unsweetened,
light-less, less of less,
frigid glaring revealers
of dead trees
and deader
                    men

maybe in the Rockies,
perhaps the Alps,
wonderlands photoshopped,
pretty lies on the Internet BS posted

where I live,
wear the wear the weary
neath the sweat stink of layers of
unbundled choking hands,
winter's damage
assessed and assessment is
never overdue, payable in
                                             immediacy

heating bills I can't pay,
a job that said no more of you,
unpretty please,
a woman who sorcerer-scarced herself
right freaking black magic quick,
trust me I have certified verified,
me and Nixon,
X's on the kitchen calendar,
there is daylight, there is mighty night,
almighty in long and colorless
and nothing in between,
but the smog stained slush of
                                                    smothered life

but definitely
no sunrises and no sunsets
watched all day from the
imprisoning kitchen window
which doubles
as a *******
                       mirror

there are no, not any,
you know what,
cannot even say them,
the pipe dreams of better yet,
pipes that have beaten down
me and my
disassociated senses,
signed sealed and now delivered,
from the formerly known as
The Summer Man
I never wanted this to happen
But you
You just couldn't keep your impure thoughts to yourself
I know what you want to do to me
But frankly
It's a one way feeling
And its sad
How the only way I could get you to stop
Was to give you what you wanted
Step by step instructions
On what I "wanted" to do to you
All lies
Its all lies
I don't want to do anything to you except get away from you
I used to love you
I used to care about you
But when I look at what you've done for me
I realize
Your just a boy
Who wants use a girl
Not to get love
That's the last thing on your mind
You want something else
Something I don't want to give you
So you keep pushing me

I want you to realize
You talk about my body more
Then you say you love me
Now that's sick
That's just sick
You use me
Exploit me
Break me

I don't love you
And I know for a fact you don't love me
Your a sick twisted boy
A child
A not adult young man as my dad would say
My parents hate me
Because of you
Because of you
I hate myself

So don't say you love me
Because your I love you's
Are just BS
Kurt De Castro Jan 2016
“Thank you, Sir Max! Have a seat po muna.”

Pangiti ‘yang sinabi ng barista sa kahera pagkatapos kong abutin ang bayad. Sa totoo lang, hindi talaga Max ang pangalan ko. Sadyang pinipili ko lang talagang ibahin ang pangalan ko tuwing hinihingi ito ng mga barista.

Patuloy pa rin ang pagbagsak ng ulan sa labas at ng paghalik ng bawat patak ng ulan sa magaspang na aspalto nang maupo ako sa paboritong sulok ng aking paboritong *coffee shop
.

Bagaman nangingibabaw pa rin ang mahalimuyak na  amoy ng kape sa paligid at dinig pa rin ang mahinhing pagkumpas ng kamay ng orasang nakapako sa ibabaw ng kahera, ay tila kakaiba ang pakiramadam sa loob ng maginaw na silid.

Mas kaunti sa nakasanyan ang bilang ng mga taong narito ngayon. Sa katunayan, tatatlo lang kami: ako, isang matandang abala sa pagbabasa ng diyaryo, at isang estudyante nag-aaral maging abogado na tila nakatulog habang nagbabasa ng isang makapal na librong tinalaban ng samu’t saring kulay ng highlighter.

Patuloy ang paglibot at paggapang ng mga mata ko sa kabuuan ng coffee shop upang maghanap ng iba pang dahilan ng pagkakaiba nang biglang kumalansing ang batingaw na nagpapahiwatig ng pagbukas ng pinto.

Kasabay ng pagbukas na ito ay ang pagpasok ng naglalakad at nakabibighaning imahe ng bukang liwayway. Magulo ang kaniyang buhok dahil sa lakas ng hangin at bihis siya ng ginaw at ng patak ng tubig-ulan. Bakas sa mukha niya na problemadong problemado siya, siguro may nakilumutan, o dahil hindi siya nakapagdala ng payong masisilungan. Ngunit sa pagkunot ng noo at pagtiklop ng kilay niya at sa asar na asar niyang pagkamot sa ulo buhat ng inis, ay lalo lang siyang naging kaakit-akit.

Agaran siyang umupo at tumahan sa silya’t lamesang pinakamalapit sa malaking salaming dumudungaw palabas ng kalsadang kinaroroonan ng coffee shop. Bagaman nakatalikod siya sa akin, bakas sa aninag ng salaming kaharap niya ang imahe ng babaeng tila hindi pa dinadapuan ng sinag ng araw.

Kitang-kita sa salamin ang maalindog niyang kutis na ‘sing puti ng gatas at ang kinang ng kanyang tila diyamanteng mga mata. Agaran din siyang naglabas ng kulay-rosas na diyaket na walang ginawa kung ‘di pag-igihan pa lalo ang balat niyang tila hinango mula sa porselana.

Ika-nga, love at first sight. Nag simula akong manginig dahil sa ‘di inaasahang pagtibok at pagkutob ng dibdib. Hindi pa nakatutulong ang tila-niyebeng lamig ng silid. Sumunod ang titig ko nang tumayo siya at naglakad patungo sa kahera upang bumili ng kanyang iinumin

Pero sa loob ng ilang segundo, muli na namang napako ang tingin ko sa makapigil-hiningang tanawing umaaninaw sa mahalumigmig na salamin nang muli siyang maupo sa tronong nararapat para sa isang reynang kagaya niya.

Kulang na lang ay ang koronahan siya.

At sa kaniyang pag-upo ay naglabas siya ng halos gutay-gutay nang kopya ng Sense and Sensibility ni Jane Austen. At habang nakayuko siyang nagbabasa ay napansin ko ang ayos at pagkatali ng kanyang buhok na kanina lamang ay napakagulo.

At sa saglit na iyon, ay inakala kong nananaginip na ako, nang bigla kong narinig ang pangalan kong tinatawag.

Grande iced white chocolate mocha with extra espresso shot for Max!

Agad akong tumayo upang kunin ang inuming kanina ko pang hinihintay. Ngunit habang naglalakad ako ay napansin kong nakatayo at naglalakad din siya patungo sa counter.

Halos sabay kaming nakarating sa harap ng nalilitong barista. Hinihintay kong abutin sa akin ng barista ang aking inumin ngunit nabigla ako nang mapalihis ang tingin niya sa akin at nalipat sa babaeng katabi ko at sinabing:

Here’s your drink, Max. Enjoy!

Sa hindi inaasahang pangyayari, biglang sumambulat palabas ng bibig ko ang mga salitang ito:

Max din ang pangalan mo?

Hindi ko ginustong tanungin siya at hindi ko ginustong marinig ang sagot niya. Mas gugustuhin ko sana kung bigla na lang hihinto ang lahat ng bagay at tao sa mundo maliban sa akin, upang ako ay makatakas at tumakbo palabas.  Kuntento na ako sa lagay ko kanina, nakaupo at nagmamasid sa malayo habang pinpanood ang isang pangrap na ‘di ko makakamit. Ngunit sandalian akong napatigil at napaisip:

Naging Joshua sana ako ngayon. ‘Di kaya Mike? O kaya Gabriel?

Gayun na lang ang malaking kong pasasalamat sa kung anumang uri ng tadhana ang gumabay sa akin ngayon. Kung hindi dahil sa hindi ko pangalan, ay hindi ko sana makikilala itong rebulto ng kariktang kasalukuyang nasa harap ko.

Nanumbalik ang eksenang kinahaharap ko nang mahinhin, marahan, at patawang siyang sumagot:

Oo. Maxene actually. Max for short.

At sa loob ng mga salitang iyon, ay dahan-dahan akong nahulog. Nahulog sa tinig ng kanyang boses, sa magkabilang dulong pagtiklop ng sulok ng labi niya, sa pagkunot ng noo at kilay niyang perpekto.

Sa loob din ng mga salitang iyon ay namuo ang simula ng paboritong kong kuwento ng pag-ibig.

Pagkatapos ng aming pambihirang pagkikita, ay nagpakilala kami sa isa’t isa. Nagpakilala  ako sa pamamagitan ng totoo kong pangalan at ipinaliwanag ko kung paano ko pinapalitan ang pangalan ko tuwing may kaharap akong barista. Matapos ay niyaya niya akong umupo kasama niya, sa tabi ng mahalumigmig na salaming dumudungaw sa kaparangang nasa labas. Ang parehong salamin kung saan kanina lamang ay pinagmumunihan ko ang kaniyang kagandahan.

Habang naglalakad patungo sa kaniyang puwesto, hindi ko mapigilang isipin na para bang hinhila ako paloob sa mundo ng paborito kong pelikula. Kung saan bahagi ako ng kuwento kung saan siya ang bida. Pakiramdam ko rin na para akong namumuhay sa kalagitnaan ng liriko ng paborito kong kanta, sa bawat pagkumpas sa gitara, at bawat pagtambol ng drum set ng paborito kong banda o sa mga pagitan ng mga siwang ng mga salita sa bawat pahina ng paborito kong libro.

Isa, dalawa, tatlo, apat.

Apat na oras kaming nakipagkuwentahan sa isa’t isa. Apat na oras na akong nakatitig sa bilog ng kanyang mga mata. Mga matang walang pinagkaiba sa paghiga sa damuhang nasa ilalim ng kalawakan habang nakatitig sa dilim ng kalangitan, habang pinapanood ang pagsayaw at pagkislap ng milyun-milyong mga bituin. Sa katunayan, halos inabot na kami ng pagsasara ng coffee shop. Sa loob ng apat na oras ay nakilala ko ang isang babaeng tiyak na mamahalin ko.

Hinggil sa kaalaman ko, sabay pala kaming nagtapos sa parehong kilalang pamantasang matatagpuan sa kahabaan ng Katipunan. BS Biology ang naging kurso niya. Higit pa, ikalawang taon na niya pala ng pag-aaral niya ng medisina. Pangarap niya raw ang maging doktor. Iyon na rin ang naging  dahilan niya upang magpaalam. May pasok pa kasi raw siya bukas at may kailangang pag-aaralan.

At iyon na nga, nagpaalam kami sa isa’t isa at humingi ako ng paumanhin dahil sa abalang naidulot ko.

Hanggang sa susunod na apat na oras at apat na tasa ng kapeng nanlamig na?

Pahabol at pangiti niyang sinabi habang nasa kalagitnaan ng pintuan at ng mundong panlabas.

Hanggang sa susunod!

---
Mary McCray  Apr 2019
Plan Bs
Mary McCray Apr 2019
(NaPoWriMo Challenge: April 20, 2019)

“Everybody who likes to make a Plan B,”
the moderator said, “stand over here.
And everybody who doesn’t like Plan Bs,
stand over there.

There were two groups of us:
half the department on one side;
half the department on another.
Our directors where both on the same side.

So the moderator asked them,
“Why don’t you like to make Plan Bs?”

And the head of marketing said,
“I don’t like to make Plan Bs
because plans never work out.”

I really wish I could add a rimshot to this poem.
Prompt: write  write a poem that “talks,” slangy, based in spoken language.
Himanshu rajput Dec 2015
Tanha yuhi kat jata safar agar tum sath na hote.....
manzil yuhi rhe jaati agar tum sath na hote....

dekhu to duniya mai saari magar....
ye rang dekh na pau....
jee kar bhi is duniya me....
adhoora bin tere rhe jau....

ye baarish yuhi tham jaati ager tum sath na hote....
ye duniya meri tham jaati agar tum sath na hote....

me jaanu to duniya ko kaeyi naam se.....
me jaanu mujhe bs tere naam se....
ye duniya na jaan paati mujhe....
jo ye lafz meri phechaan na hote....

ye naam yu he bikhar jata ager jo tum sath na hote....
hasti meri mar jaati ager tum phechaan na hote....

By : HR COLLECTION

— The End —