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Perveiz Ali Jan 2016
SOULFUL IMAGINATION

On a journey of imagination,
The wind sought an explanation
Of that loving nature
We cannot measure.

Pray tell me now,
How good is your heart,
Filled with your beloveds' love ?

“Pacific, is my heart indeed!!”
Are the words I did utter.

Above the whispering reeds
Supporting the cloudy kites
It did impose further.....
What is love?
© Perveiz Ali
Perveiz Ali Dec 2015
Practice What you Preach.

Human characters are a real puzzle,
Sing in one tune but the music is different.
Constructive thoughts yet destructive acts,
New year wishes with festive greetings.
Preaching peace and communal harmony,
Even as chaos reigns in each communal street.
How can fire and water be mutual companions?
Revolutionary thoughts but deceitful tactics.
New year wishes laid on so thick and bright,
May the expressions in public become the private practices.
©Perveiz Ali
Perveiz Ali Dec 2015
Kashmir Delirium

Oh People Of Earth! Thankful are we,
For each act of benevolence shown to us.
Your gilded sweet words describing,
The beauty of Kasmir, land and people.

Mention in books and talks of it's riches,
Naming it the Sweet Paradise Of Earth.
The Lord has been bountiful to Kashmir,
Treasure of resources in every sphere.

To elevate each aspect, our wish for life,
As every acre of this land is worth millions.
Full of treasures and recreational value,
Forestry with grandeur and silvery rivers.

The outside world's view is so limited,
Simple folks living in the lap of rich bounty.
Mentioned in world forums and organizations,
But what of the goal of giving us freedom?

What has The UN established in our name?
To measure the pain and anguish we bear,
At the hands, of our supposed benefactors.
The saviours who has us fractured.

But in reality they train their enforcers,
In the art of creating oceans of tears.
The red blood now hidden in camouflage,
The spent shells now gathered and hidden.

The leaders we are told to elect in electoral shams,
Run publicity kiosks and swell friend lists.
Joint conferences to address personal interests
Dialogues that never address the root issues.

Just the formalities and no sympathy,
For the ones burnt in cruel sadistic reprisals.
The hypocrisy continues deliriously unabated,
More augmentation of the security forces.

For a first hand view of deep hypocrisy,
Walk this land, you know as beautiful.
Religious leaders will teach you  political artistry,
Sermons full of ambiguity and guile.

Waywardness and narrow mindedness on display,
Political apologists give great lessons.
Religion and religious ethnicity are tools,
That keep minds and bodies in total check.

Gamesmanship by leaders is the rule of thumb,
As promises are forgotten once office is obtained.
When writing of this succulent beautiful land,
Write of the air, pregnant with sadistic practices.

This land is being stripped of worldly treasures,
And the greatest treasure is mistreated daily.
The best of nation is the inhabitants,
Ignored are the real gems of this beautiful paradise.
Perveiz Ali Dec 2015
Love's Subscription

Oh garden of love, grant me lifetime membership,
Ignore the other subscribers as I offer my passion.
Scribe who tends to the garden hear my plea,
Add me, for here my heart wants to be.
To sing the songs of love's sweet eternity,
While basking in the flowery garden.
Scars of painful wounds healed and forgotten,
Scented roses and petunias fill my senses,
Caressing my mind and heart in peaceful solace.
I seek to dwell here for an eternity in love,
My subscription has no expiration forever slotted.
Perveiz Ali Dec 2015
Social Climbing

How many asks what is the way forward?
The lack of thought impregnates our air.
By thoughts and acts we pursue social achievements,
Exhibiting selfishness, chaos and insecurity.
We promote ourselves through groups and individuals,
Paving the way to social fame and glory.
All while our country rivers crest with blood,
Peaked by the sacrifices of those socially conscious.
Their protests to gain our freedoms unrecognized,
By those of us ******* in the hunt for fame.
Is it this the dream, we strive to gain?
Shamed am I that we have not addressed their demise.
Perveiz Ali Dec 2015
Blood Rain
Rain....
signal that the sky is crying.
Sun,
now hiding behind clouds.
Ashamed,
of me and my human sins.
Wet,
droplets of rain become blood.
Stinging,
my tears now ****** as the rain.
Wounds,
Open and burning as they run red.
Recriminating,
my soul as shame fills my being,
Earth,
opens her arms to welcome me.
Mud,
oozes into my mouth slowly,
Taste,
that of blood soaked in earth...mine.
Blurry,
my fading sight as my eyes glaze.
Winter,
mocks me with its cold howling wind.
Darkness,
envelops my whole being in totality.
Sight,
No longer gifted to me, hindsight too late.
Brain,
functions fading fast, on impulse.
Heartbeat,
Fading no familiar drumbeat heard.
Crossing,
over into the light I venture timidly.
Judgement,
mercy on my soul, I know I'm not worthy.
©Perveiz Ali
Perveiz Ali Nov 2015
Reconstruction

To be free of this insufferable pain I tolerate,
Such aches and pains I can't even rate.
I grind my teeth as I **** it up and tolerate,
Is this to always be my sad lonely fate?
The world has dealt me a sad hand,
My Psyche lost  in the wind as grains of sand.
Wounded inside I bleed unseen by eyes,
I cry out to those foreboding dark skies.
This aesthetic world sees not my sorrow,
Must I always smile even as I fear tomorrow.
Should I not face my calamities boldly?
Stand for what I firmly believe steadfastly.
Let my convictions be my salve,
Allow pent up emotions a release valve.
Fill my being with new love so beautiful,
Rebuild a connection that is decidedly wonderful.
©Perveiz Ali
Javaria Waseem Feb 2015
Up in the north, away from all the filth,
there's a land of pure where angels descend.
And live between the rivers and trees.
There's a place known as Kashmir.

A place that has sacrifices it's people
just for the sake to get an identity.
A place that's been crying since ages
There's a place known as Kashmir.

A place that's been bleeding for freedom.
A place that's been a victim of tyranny.
A place that need to be heard just once.
There's a place known as Kashmir.

A place that's been divided among nation.
A place that has suffered a great deal.
Let them live, let them breathe.
Let there be a place known as Kashmir!

We stand together as a nation today
For we cannot see our heaven bleed.
Kashmir belongs to Pakistan.
And Pakistan belongs to Kashmir.
Àŧùl Oct 2014
The border at Jammu & Kashmir,
One of the highest battlegrounds.
Though that scenery is beautiful,
The soil there is stained in blood.

The blood of terrorists & soldiers,
Sadly defiles the heaven in there.
White peaks often don a red hue,
Those serene valleys face hellfire.

They do not realize that it is vain,
They war in the name of religion.
Disrupting peace and calm there,
They often desecrate the paradise.

Christ is said to have gone there,
After his resurrection of course.
Hindu deities are also fabled so,
The land of Gods and their messengers has been desecrated time and again.
I fear some weirdos might bombard this work with their negativity.
But I am unfazed.
My HP Poem #675
©Atul Kaushal
Zainab Attari Sep 2014
Flooded and doomed alone I stand
Helplessly watching my people fall out of my hand
I wish I could quaff down this copious water
And save them all from this clutter

It takes me back to the bloodshed
When innocent Kashmiris time and again bled
For a war that thrived for my land and soil
Helplessly watching it made my heart coil

I wish to break into a million pieces
When I watch these sorrowful bruised faces
But I am the king of the north
I need to stand tall and face the wrath.

But oh Allah, tell me why do my people suffer?
Can you give me the power to buffer?
I, Jammu & Kashmir plead you to glorify us all
We cannot take another fall

I dream of a day full of joy
Where guns are never replicated even as a toy
I dream of freedom from all bad omen
Please bless each animal, child, man and women.

The people of Pakistan and India are welcome on my land
Only with friendly non-armed hands.
You have no rights to claim me
I am the creator’s property, you shouldn't break me.
A poem written on the recent disastrous floods in Kashmir and the past conflicts in Jammu and Kashmir, India. Around 100 villages were dommed in the recent floods in Kashmir. May they receive peace and blessings from the almighty!

-Zainab Attari
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