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"ali" poems
Mumbai is rich, Mumbai is poor. Mumbai is fast, Mumbai is slower. Little bit sweet, and little bit sour, Sometimes it’s hot but not too more…. Mornings are energetic and evenings are electric. Noons are lazy but Nights are crazy And any one you ask he always say “M busy” Dude, life in Mumbai is not so easy There is lot of Masti with little bit of Maska Welcome to the city that can’t live, without Bollywood Chaska From cooker whistles to the traffic jam horns, From steaming tea kettles to breaking nut-betels From telephone rings and doorbell brings. There are people connecting through Blackberry pings Where there’s little time to spare for kids People here spend their lives on bids Here you actually pay your travel fare by meter But milkman mixing water is not a cheater! Sev puri and bhel puri are all Mumbai chaat Relishing it with spicy chutney is no easy art From pop-corn to ice-cream, all sold on cart Mumbai o Mumbai, you’re always close to my heart Where local trains usually run on time And violently rushing for a seat is not a crime Here 3 PM for lunch and 12 AM to dine People face hardships, but still say “it’s fine” From Mt Mary in Bandra to Mumba Devi in Town And ISKCON in Juhu to Haji Ali in Mumbai’s Crown Faith runs deep as the Arabian Sea But people don’t hesitate to pay early darshan fee. Marathi, Punjabi, Gujarati and Bengali Everyone forgather celebrate Id and Diwali Holi is colourful and Christmas is cheerful Spend some time here and your life will be un-forgetful Billionaire to baggers, all found in this city Be careful dude, this place is a bit witty. Overall this dream-world is huge but pretty Mumbai o Mumbai you’re wonderful city.
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Feb 3, 2016
Feb 3, 2016 at 1:15 AM UTC
Mumbai
Mumbai is rich, Mumbai is poor. Mumbai is fast, Mumbai is slower. Little bit sweet, and little bit sour, Sometimes it’s hot but not too more…. Mornings are energetic and evenings are electric. Noons are lazy but Nights are crazy And any one you ask he always say “M busy” Dude, life in Mumbai is not so easy There is lot of Masti with little bit of Maska Welcome to the city that can’t live, without Bollywood Chaska From cooker whistles to the traffic jam horns, From steaming tea kettles to breaking nut-betels From telephone rings and doorbell brings. There are people connecting through Blackberry pings Where there’s little time to spare for kids People here spend their lives on bids Here you actually pay your travel fare by meter But milkman mixing water is not a cheater! Sev puri and bhel puri are all Mumbai chaat Relishing it with spicy chutney is no easy art From pop-corn to ice-cream, all sold on cart Mumbai o Mumbai, you’re always close to my heart Where local trains usually run on time And violently rushing for a seat is not a crime Here 3 PM for lunch and 12 AM to dine People face hardships, but still say “it’s fine” From Mt Mary in Bandra to Mumba Devi in Town And ISKCON in Juhu to Haji Ali in Mumbai’s Crown Faith runs deep as the Arabian Sea But people don’t hesitate to pay early darshan fee. Marathi, Punjabi, Gujarati and Bengali Everyone forgather celebrate Id and Diwali Holi is colourful and Christmas is cheerful Spend some time here and your life will be un-forgetful Billionaire to baggers, all found in this city Be careful dude, this place is a bit witty. Overall this dream-world is huge but pretty Mumbai o Mumbai you’re wonderful city.
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38
If (WO)men are the ones that suffer an exacerbated amount Of the violence, the **** the abuse, and everything that comes with and from struggle and alienation; it is because of their femininity that men at times have come to believe that their contributions soften institutions. That at times throughout history neither capitalism, neoliberalism nor revolutionary experiments like that of Cuba have placed femininity as compatible with progress or resolution. In which case femininity must be hidden, silenced, or displaced with no purpose or place to belong. Thus everyone closely associated with this femininity such as homosexuals, transgendered (WO)men, and "effeminate" males, (ignoring, subverting and negating the lesbian identity because of their gender) have come to be marginalized by a structural system of exclusion. (WO)men carrying the highest burden for originating the associative distinction Homosexuals battling to find love by constantly having to assert their masculinity Transgendered (Wo)men afraid of expressing their through identity. Lesbians fighting to legitimize their own identity separate from the directives ascribed onto them by virtue of being born women. Males who are labeled effeminate because of their sympathy toward those who struggle and are alienated. And every other individual who refuses to deliver to give a marker to their identity and a degree to their femininity. Hold fast in your femininity and embrace the rancor that society grants you As a homosexual I speak with you brother and sister, not for you Realize that our self-ascribed degrees of femininity and identity are as revolutionary and transformative, and thus necessary, as those of Che Guevara, Mohammed Ali, Harriet Tubman, or the Dali Lama. That because we have decided to embrace our degrees of femininity, problematic to any movement, at one point or another, we have inadvertently decided to align our selves with those who are alienated the most by the systems in which they live. So that in this way we must make our struggles deliberate and political. Let our degrees of femininity become legitimizing banners of solidarity for anyone who suffers in any corner of the world.
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Mar 10, 2013
Mar 10, 2013 at 12:48 AM UTC
Revolutionary Solidarity (Embracing Our Femininity)
If (WO)men are the ones that suffer an exacerbated amount Of the violence, the **** the abuse, and everything that comes with and from struggle and alienation; it is because of their femininity that men at times have come to believe that their contributions soften institutions. That at times throughout history neither capitalism, neoliberalism nor revolutionary experiments like that of Cuba have placed femininity as compatible with progress or resolution. In which case femininity must be hidden, silenced, or displaced with no purpose or place to belong. Thus everyone closely associated with this femininity such as homosexuals, transgendered (WO)men, and "effeminate" males, (ignoring, subverting and negating the lesbian identity because of their gender) have come to be marginalized by a structural system of exclusion. (WO)men carrying the highest burden for originating the associative distinction Homosexuals battling to find love by constantly having to assert their masculinity Transgendered (Wo)men afraid of expressing their through identity. Lesbians fighting to legitimize their own identity separate from the directives ascribed onto them by virtue of being born women. Males who are labeled effeminate because of their sympathy toward those who struggle and are alienated. And every other individual who refuses to deliver to give a marker to their identity and a degree to their femininity. Hold fast in your femininity and embrace the rancor that society grants you As a homosexual I speak with you brother and sister, not for you Realize that our self-ascribed degrees of femininity and identity are as revolutionary and transformative, and thus necessary, as those of Che Guevara, Mohammed Ali, Harriet Tubman, or the Dali Lama. That because we have decided to embrace our degrees of femininity, problematic to any movement, at one point or another, we have inadvertently decided to align our selves with those who are alienated the most by the systems in which they live. So that in this way we must make our struggles deliberate and political. Let our degrees of femininity become legitimizing banners of solidarity for anyone who suffers in any corner of the world.
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Perplexed people of a politically polluted land, Are uncertain of who they truly are. Sons supporting freedom's fight, fathers seem lost, Seeking meager gains with no gain in power. Subjugation and forced order is in play, Forgotten the episodes of cold blooded ****** Rapes, intimidation and tormented nights, All ignored, for they are not our daughters or mothers. No concern given to our neighbors strife? Our humanity we sold, for positions in this land. Strengthened the corrupted power at play, Full of anarchy and devoid of mercy. The foibles in name of government and development, Oh Lord!Fill our fellows hearts with compassion. Open their eyes to the inadequacies, Bring our nation back to consciousness. ©Perveiz Ali
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Feb 5, 2016
Feb 5, 2016 at 8:08 AM UTC
Awake Kashmir
*Jis Ki Janib Woh Nazar Apni Uttha Lete Hain Uss Ki Soyee Hui Taqdeer Jaga Dete Hain* **Towards whom they raise their glance His resting destiny they awaken in a trance** *Teri Duzdeeda Nigahon Ko Dua Dete Hain Jitne Chubte Hain Yeh Teer Utna Maza Dete Hain* **For your peeking gazes, I pray The more these arrows wound, the more delighted I lay** *Jab Se Dekha Hai Unhein Apna Mujhe Hosh Nahin Jane Kya Cheez Woh Nazroon Se Pila Dete Hain* **Ever since them I saw, senseless I have become What they pour from their glances, a mystery it has become** *Takht Kya Cheez Hai Aur Laal-o-Jawahir Kya Hai Ishq Wale To Khudai Bhi Loota Dete Hain* **What is a throne and what are lustrous jewels? Lovers surrender divinity against the rules** *Aik Din Aisa Bhi Ata Hai Mohabbat Mein Zaroor Khud Ko Ghabra Ke Naqab Apna Uttah Lete Hain* **There is one such moment in love, indeed! With nervousness, they raise their veil** *Apni Barbadi Pe Khush Hoon Yeh Suna Hai Jabse Woh Jisse Apna Samajhte Hain Mitta Dete Hain* **Happy with my own ruin I am, ever since I have learned Who they consider their own, obliterated have turned** *Apne Daman Ko Zara Aap Bacha Kar Rakhna Sakhat Aahon Se Bhi Hum Aag Laga Dete Hain* **Your own hem a little, you save and claim With deep sighs, we set the fire aflame** *Jis Ki Janib Woh Nazar Apni Uttha Lete Hain Uss Ki Soyee Hui Taqdeer Jaga Dete Hain* **Towards whom they raise their glance His resting destiny they awaken in a trance** — Translated by Jamil Hussain, Sung by Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan
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Oct 26, 2016
Oct 26, 2016 at 8:34 AM UTC
Glance
*Jis Ki Janib Woh Nazar Apni Uttha Lete Hain Uss Ki Soyee Hui Taqdeer Jaga Dete Hain* **Towards whom they raise their glance His resting destiny they awaken in a trance** *Teri Duzdeeda Nigahon Ko Dua Dete Hain Jitne Chubte Hain Yeh Teer Utna Maza Dete Hain* **For your peeking gazes, I pray The more these arrows wound, the more delighted I lay** *Jab Se Dekha Hai Unhein Apna Mujhe Hosh Nahin Jane Kya Cheez Woh Nazroon Se Pila Dete Hain* **Ever since them I saw, senseless I have become What they pour from their glances, a mystery it has become** *Takht Kya Cheez Hai Aur Laal-o-Jawahir Kya Hai Ishq Wale To Khudai Bhi Loota Dete Hain* **What is a throne and what are lustrous jewels? Lovers surrender divinity against the rules** *Aik Din Aisa Bhi Ata Hai Mohabbat Mein Zaroor Khud Ko Ghabra Ke Naqab Apna Uttah Lete Hain* **There is one such moment in love, indeed! With nervousness, they raise their veil** *Apni Barbadi Pe Khush Hoon Yeh Suna Hai Jabse Woh Jisse Apna Samajhte Hain Mitta Dete Hain* **Happy with my own ruin I am, ever since I have learned Who they consider their own, obliterated have turned** *Apne Daman Ko Zara Aap Bacha Kar Rakhna Sakhat Aahon Se Bhi Hum Aag Laga Dete Hain* **Your own hem a little, you save and claim With deep sighs, we set the fire aflame** *Jis Ki Janib Woh Nazar Apni Uttha Lete Hain Uss Ki Soyee Hui Taqdeer Jaga Dete Hain* **Towards whom they raise their glance His resting destiny they awaken in a trance** — Translated by Jamil Hussain, Sung by Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan
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*Tulu-e-Subah Tere Rukh Ki Baat Hone Lagi Tumhari Zulf Jo Bikhri Toh Raat Hone Lagi Tumhari Mast Nazar Ka Khumaar Kya Kehna Nashe Mein Garq Sabhi Kayanaat Hone Lagi* **Rise of morning and debate of your appearance begun Then your tresses scattered and the night begun Intoxication of your enchanting eyes – what can we say! O’ in drunkenness, sinking of whole world begun** — Translated by Jamil Hussain, Sung by Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan
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Oct 30, 2016
Oct 30, 2016 at 4:38 PM UTC
Rise of Morning
Let’s make a point And rock this joint. What with Putin and ISIS, We’re all in crisis. I sound like Ali, From here to Bali. Let’s give Peace a chance, Our world to enhance. What happened to Love? Where’s God up above? Don’t need globalisation, Just one Human Nation. Time for a stanza: Let’s have a bonanza. But seriously folks, This is no time for jokes. We must have compassion, It isn’t on ration. So please hear my call And Love one and all. Paul Butters
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Feb 20, 2015
Feb 20, 2015 at 4:27 AM UTC
Rap Attack
Ning 'wave' raman ko nimo, dibah maam? Pero ngano man pud imo ko gireplayan? Tan-awa naibog na noon ko nimo ug taman taman Ambot kaha kung ako pa ni mapugngan. Dili nako tumong sa sinugdanan na ikaw maibgan Nitext ko sa imo inamego raman unta ang tanan Kay kabalo ko wala jud kay pagbati sa ako gikan pa sinugdanan. Pero ambot ngano sa kadugayan ikaw naman ang gipitik ning dughan Maong ako maingon sa imoha kay salamat Wala nimo gipasagdaan na ako mata maglurat Imo gitagaan ug bili ang dughan ko na gikan natuali. Imo ko gipasulod sa imong kinabuhing walay ali Tungod ato nasood teka Nakatext, nakachat, ug matag gabie pa maestorya Kanindot ba sa niabot na grasya Pwede ba akoa nalang ka? Tinood bitaw, walay sagol yagayaga. Murag binuang pero seryoso ning akong gipangmama Pero ang tanang pulong na dili kaya isulti sa akong baba Ako nalang gipaagi niining kabos ko na tula.
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Mar 28, 2020
Mar 28, 2020 at 5:28 AM UTC
Wave
if I got a poem out of every message I receive...ha!...I do... quite a bit upon to chew, but a request from her, to please ignore her weirdness, too juicy to pass unnoticed, because it goes to the heart of the mad matter 'tis that weirdness that I do so cherish, fully reflected in my own poem-children, my multiple identities, that the FBI is yet tracking give me your weirdness, yearning to be free, so my poems can be inscribed upon a crown and daughter adopted dear, that one crown, thy name, thy madness upon it etched, modified to rest easy upon thy temples <•> for Ali
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Sep 25, 2018
Sep 25, 2018 at 11:26 AM UTC
"Please ignore my weirdness"
I had Joe Willie from jump. The Jets were off the chain Baltimore benched Johnny U cause he knew the game. And played it too. The AFL was full of bells and whistles.Speed kills Three yards and a cloud of dust. Get real coach. We shootin rockets to da moon. High tops . Cmon pops. Change the guard. Them people ain't done nothing to me said Ali. Da Nang ain't my thang.  He was the greatest. Still is. The Haight was great.  Oh yeah Kent STATE. 1968. Open the gate to the house of the rising sun. Joplin. And Jimmy. Marvin and Tammy. The Doors and Hair. ****** in the air What rhymes with Agent Orange...... Nothing.
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Oct 4, 2012
Oct 4, 2012 at 1:16 AM UTC
Age of Aquarius
*Apni Dhun Mein Rehta Hoon Main Bhi Tere Jaisa Hoon* **Roaming within my own tunes I am O’ just like you I am** *Oh Pichhlee Rut Ke Saathi Abke Baras Main Tanha Hoon* **O’ friend of the past season This year completely alone I am** *Teri Gali Mein Sara Din Dukh Ke Kankar Chunta Hoon* **Whole day, in your street Collecting the pebbles of sorrows I am** *Mera Diya Jalaye Kuan Main Tera Khali Kamra Hoon* **Who will set my lamp alight? O’ your vacated room I am** *Apni Leher Hai Apna Rog Dariya Hoon Aur Pyasaa Hoon* **My own wave is the malady Ocean I am and yet so thirsty I am** *Aati Rut Mujhe Royegi Jaati Rut Ka Jhonka Hoon* **Coming season will weep for me O’ breeze of the ending season I am** — Translated by Jamil Hussain, Poet Nasir Kazmi, Sung by Ghulam Ali
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Oct 26, 2016
Oct 26, 2016 at 8:23 AM UTC
Season
Dhalegi Raat Aayegi Sahar Aahista Aahista Piyo Un Ankhdiyon Ke Naam Par Aahista Aahista Night will end and the morning will arise, slowly, O’ slowly Sip in the name of her eyes, slowly, O’ slowly Dikha Dena Usse Zakhm-e-Jigar Aahista Aahista Samajh Kar Soch Kar Pehchaan Kar Aahista Aahsita Show her the wounds of your heart but slowly, O’ slowly With thoughts, understanding and accuracy, slowly, O’ slowly Abhi Taaron Se Khelo Chandni Se Dil Ko Behlao Milegi Uske Chehre Ki Sahar Aahista Aahista Play with the stars and appease yourself with the moons light You will meet the morning of her face, slowly, O’ slowly Yakayak Aise Jal Bhujhne Mein Lutf-e-Jaan Kuni Kab Tha Jale Ik Shamma Par Ham Bhi Magar Aahista Aahista What is the pleasure of life in burning so suddenly? Burnt too I was on a flame but slowly, O’ slowly — Translated by Jamil Hussain, Sung by Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan
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Nov 18, 2016
Nov 18, 2016 at 12:10 PM UTC
Slowly, O' Slowly
Ali ra gud paminawa, ang kagabiehon anaay gisulti sa atoa. Matulog na daw ta, kay ang paglaum moabot ugma inig hayag na. Bitbit ang saktong kalipay na mohulip sa pait ug walay lasa na kalaay. Katawa na dili mahopay, ug ang kasadya sa atong kinabuhi maoy atong lintunganay. Akong mga mata mopiyong, apan ang dughan nako nagapadayon na ikaw ang gihonghong Matulog ko karong gabieha na dili masulob on, nagahandom na ikaw mao ako damguhon. Tulog na ta, apan ang akong paglantaw sa imoha dili pa. Dili mohopas ug dili mawala, bisan pa ug mahinanok natang duha.
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Mar 24, 2020
Mar 24, 2020 at 10:05 PM UTC
Katulog na
* I am talking of fearlessness "Fearlessness..." The same fearlessness Shown by Christ on the cross The same fearlessness Shown by Gandhi For his non-violence The same fearlessness When Mansoor said "I am YOU" Was lynched & cut piece by piece The same fearlessness Of Meera who sang for Krishna on the streets When she was humiliated, ****** made fun off The same fearlessness When Radha danced for Krishna Even after Krishna left Vrindawan for Dwarka The same fearlessness With which Hussaiyn Ali Martryed his life at Karbala While trusting someone The same fearlessness Of Sita when she withstood The tests of Rama's accusations The same fearlessness When Bahi Taru Singh suffered governor's brutal torture The same fearlessness When Mirziyaan gave his bow & arrow To Sahibaan knowing that The tip of his arrow may be blunted Leading to his death The same fearlessness When Romeo drank the poison And Zuliet stabbed herself with a dagger The same fearlessness That made Layla fall sick & died on hearing that Her Majnun is roaming mad in wilderness; Later on hearing about Layla's death Majnun died near Layla's grave The same fearlessness When Rabia wanted to Cease the fire of hell and Set alight hopes of paradise The same fearlessness Of Rumi who guards The divine light of LOVE The same fearlessness When one is compelled by soul energy to LOVE BELOVEDz That is the fearlessness I am talking about "The fearlessness of LOVE" *
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Oct 1, 2017
Oct 1, 2017 at 11:55 PM UTC
FEARLESSNESS
She does not own a fighter's body But you can tell right from the start That the thing they have in common Is...she has a fighter's heart For as long as I have known  her A scrapper she has been A lioness well challenged She is cunning, though not mean Her battle is internal Her trophy is her life Her body's full of cancer She's tap dancing on a knife She won't back down from any fight Not this one...that's for sure She determined like a fighter She wants this fight...and one more It's a battle for survival She's as tough as old Ali Her battle cry is awesome "You will not be taking me" I write this for my mother The toughest woman that I know And regardless of her cancer Her pain...she'll never show.
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May 2, 2012
May 2, 2012 at 7:01 PM UTC
The Fighter - (For Mum)
*Unke Dar Pe Pahunchne To Paayein Yeh Na Poocho Ke Hum Kya Kareinge Sar Jhukana Agar Jurm Hoga Ham Nigahon Se Sajda Kareinge* **Once I reach the door Spare me from asking what I will do If blasphemous it is to prostrate my body My gaze shall bow at the door** *Baat Bhi Teri Rakhni Hai Saqi Zarf Ko Bhi Na Ruswa Kareinge Jaam De Ya Na De Aaj Hum Toh Maikade Mein Sawera Kareinge* **I am to keep your words too, O' Cup Bearer And I cannot offend the cup Whether or not you serve me tonight I will meet my dawn at your door** *Iss Taraf Apna Daman Jalega Uss Taraf Unki Mehfil Chalegi Hum Andhere Ko Ghar Mein Bulaakar Unke Ghar Mein Ujaala Kareinge* **Here, my life will be on fire And there celebrations will begin at yours I willingly invite the darkness to my abode So that brightness may exist at yours** *Baat Tarq-e talluq Bhi 'Anwar' Itna Ehsaa- e-Rasm-e-Wafa Hai Aakhiri Saans Tak Bhi Hum Unse Berukhi Ka Na Shikwa Kareinge* **Even after renouncing our relationship O’ Anwar I am to maintain the ritual of faithfulness Even unto the last breath Never will I complain of aloofness** — Translated by Jamil Hussain, Sung by Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan
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Oct 28, 2016
Oct 28, 2016 at 9:48 AM UTC
The Door
*Bheed Mein Ek Ajnabi Ka, Saamna Acha Laga Sabse Chup Kar Woh Kisi Ka, Dekhna Acha Laga* **Within a crowd, facing of one stranger I liked Hidden away from all others, her staring I liked** *Surmayi Aanchal Ke Neeche Phool Se Khilne Lage Kehte Kehte Kuch Kisi Ka Sochna Acha Laga* **Grey colour below the eyes, flowers begun to bloom Talking and losing of her thoughts I so liked** *Baat To Khuch Bhi Nahi Laikan Uska Ekdam Haath Ko Honton Pe Rakh Kar Rokna Acha Laga* **It was all nothing but suddenly Placing of her hands over my lips and asking me to stop I liked** *Uss Adoo-e-Jaan Ko Amjad Mein Bura Kaise Kahoon Jab Bhi Aaya Saamne, Woh Bewafa Acha Laga* **O’ Amjad how can one say anything negative to that enemy of life Whenever she came before me, that treacherous I liked** — Translated by Jamil Hussain, Poet Amjad Islam Amjad, Sung by Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan
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Oct 26, 2016
Oct 26, 2016 at 5:56 AM UTC
A Stranger, I Liked
High Priest Paul stalks them in the night He promises forgiveness by the edge of his knife He never stops to question or hesitates to bite Believe in him and he will make it right Scar-Faced Jake doesn't like to wait He murders Myan time and claws the hands of fate He bullies his way to the top of the state He wears a velvet hat and sells you ****** bait Senator Chris keeps his lovers on a list A check for every thrill and a line for every kiss Somewhere, out there, far beyond the bliss There's kids wondering where their daddy is Groovy Jungle Jim buries his guitars Played them like a fiddle in middle country bars Slept with the lowlifes and wannabe a stars His voice is the air and his clothes are in the yard Ali of the Valley sees the starry sky is clear Reflecting in her eyes like a cosmic mirror Wondering if the universe looks at us and sneers While the people on the earth scoff and call her weird Mr. Priestess Slim puts the bottle on the floor It's full of whiskey eyes but just a moment more Someone is rapping on his chamber door But when he opens it up, he starts a holy war
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Feb 20, 2016
Feb 20, 2016 at 1:09 PM UTC
Night in the Insanity Imporium
*Sara Jahan Mast Jahan Ka Nizam Mast Din Mast, Raat Mast, Sahar Mast, Shaam Mast Mast Sheesha, Mast Suboo, Mast Jaam Mast Hai Teri Chashm-e-Mast Se Har Khaas-o-Aam Mast* **The world is intoxicated The order of universe is intoxicated The day is intoxicated; the night, the dawn and the evening are intoxicated The glass is intoxicated, the goblet and the wine itself is intoxicated Your enchanting eyes have made everything so intoxicated.** — Translated by Jamil Hussain, Sung by Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan
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Oct 28, 2016
Oct 28, 2016 at 9:59 AM UTC
Enchanting Eyes
Hip hop. Equals art stop. That crude **** stopped musical fusion Right in its tracks. When it first landed, it was still music with a lotta spittle flying. Not naming names. I listened to a lot of it. Then Gangsta rap hit. Oh **** Cant accuse me of blind judgment, I still check it out from time to time How do you say.Get diverse mud flappers. Know the history. learn to play an instrument and read it so you can write it. Then come back an see me. Who am I?. John Q public. Pavlov's dog. Tin Pan Ali. Long Tall sally. Sachmo. Scratch less. Yard-bird. Donald Bird. Stubborn **** Stuff out there is weak as thrice used tea bags. And cost more to get unless you got a peg leg and a parrot ******** on yer shoulder. Lyrically, man my six year old says more about less with **** left over. What? Flame out digitized No talent constructs that make me wanna hurl, url give a dog a bone. Tin eared, tone def hoochies and synthetic cool cats. Not to mention the rough neks. Looking like they pooped their pants six times and forgot how to belt up. There are some real deal talents out there but it is like pickin peanuts out **** After disco died. Yes I said disco. It has been a circle **** in the cemetery after dark. Naw mean. But I digress. .
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Sep 24, 2012
Sep 24, 2012 at 4:42 AM UTC
Much Ado
I should have been a boxer....the way I stick and move when I write. The only person I know that can make the sun shine at night. I should have been a boxer....the way i fight with words to paint a picture. I'm using the jab to set you up for the knockout blow. I'm looking for your tendencies and when i spot it......down you will go. I should have been a boxer....float like a butterfly sting like a bee. A sign of honor to a fellow poet.....and inspiration to me.....Muhammad Ali. I should be a boxer the way i study my craft and observe the legends of the game. It's all all about the passion.....I could care less about fame. I should have been a boxer.....you can't be good unless you train. I have my book ....my pen .....ideas in my brain. I have so many thoughts I may need another brain. I'm on the speed bag so my brain is quick with the flow....switching styles like a southpaw.....which way is it coming? I guess you will never know. I should have been a boxer....because i really like to fight. Instead of gloves I utilize my pen to pulverize the paper and annihilate those foes and lost loves....father's who left their children at start. They couldn't finish the fight .....was he a coward or a scarecrow.....born without a heart. I should've been a boxer.....because my defense is always up. I hide my poems inside a book .....it's highly guarded so don't try to look. The thoughts inside are g14 classified....so I'm hiring security guards.....if you want to gain entrance.....you must present an identification card. I should've been a boxer....because I'm always fighting. My thoughts are knocked to the paper and bleeds black or red. I write about life .....because I know nothing about being dead. Although, I been knocked around .....and have had to take a standing eight.....I leaned on the ropes and learned to wait. Still working the jab......which are the words i write. I should've been a boxer.....one hitter quitter and then it's time to say "Goodnight!" Ladies and Gentlemen......we have a unanimous decision. The new poetic champion of the worldddddd!!! ......I should've been a boxer.....Yeah right.
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Oct 12, 2012
Oct 12, 2012 at 5:36 AM UTC
I should have been a boxer
I should have been a boxer....the way I stick and move when I write. The only person I know that can make the sun shine at night. I should have been a boxer....the way i fight with words to paint a picture. I'm using the jab to set you up for the knockout blow. I'm looking for your tendencies and when i spot it......down you will go. I should have been a boxer....float like a butterfly sting like a bee. A sign of honor to a fellow poet.....and inspiration to me.....Muhammad Ali. I should be a boxer the way i study my craft and observe the legends of the game. It's all all about the passion.....I could care less about fame. I should have been a boxer.....you can't be good unless you train. I have my book ....my pen .....ideas in my brain. I have so many thoughts I may need another brain. I'm on the speed bag so my brain is quick with the flow....switching styles like a southpaw.....which way is it coming? I guess you will never know. I should have been a boxer....because i really like to fight. Instead of gloves I utilize my pen to pulverize the paper and annihilate those foes and lost loves....father's who left their children at start. They couldn't finish the fight .....was he a coward or a scarecrow.....born without a heart. I should've been a boxer.....because my defense is always up. I hide my poems inside a book .....it's highly guarded so don't try to look. The thoughts inside are g14 classified....so I'm hiring security guards.....if you want to gain entrance.....you must present an identification card. I should've been a boxer....because I'm always fighting. My thoughts are knocked to the paper and bleeds black or red. I write about life .....because I know nothing about being dead. Although, I been knocked around .....and have had to take a standing eight.....I leaned on the ropes and learned to wait. Still working the jab......which are the words i write. I should've been a boxer.....one hitter quitter and then it's time to say "Goodnight!" Ladies and Gentlemen......we have a unanimous decision. The new poetic champion of the worldddddd!!! ......I should've been a boxer.....Yeah right.
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*Jab Raat Dhali Aadhi Maikhane Ko Hosh Aaya Angrai Li Botal Ne Paimane Ko Hosh Aaya* **When the night cast halfway, tavern came to its senses The bottle took a yawn and the cup came to its senses** *Utha Jo Naqaab Unka Deewane Ko Hosh Aaya Jab Shamma Howi Roshan Parwane Ko Hosh Aaya* **They appeared from their veil, crazy came to their senses Then the flame became evident and the moth came to its senses** *Phir Dard Utha Dil Mein Phir Yaad Teri Aayi Phir Teri Mohabbat Ke Afsanay Ko Hosh Aaya* **Then the pain grew within, your memories unfolded And then your affectionate tale came to my senses** *In Mast Nigahon Ne Girtay Ko Sambhala Hai Sagar Ke Saharay Se Mastanay Ko Hosh Aaya* **Intoxicating glances have balanced the tumbling With the support of a cup, the drunk came to their senses** *Woh Daikho Fana Daikho Jaam Aa Gaye Gardish Mein Woh Mast Nazar Uthi Maikhane Ko Hosh Aaya* **Look there O’ Fana, see the cups are quickly rotating Emergence of intoxicating glance; tavern has now come to its senses** — Translated by Jamil Hussain, Poet Anwar Farrukhabadi, Sung by Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan
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Oct 26, 2016
Oct 26, 2016 at 6:21 AM UTC
Night Cast Halfway
Različite vizije u istom spektru riječi Gaslo ulično svjetlo i ljupka narnijska lampa Obasuti bijelim pahuljama i zagrljeni crnilom noći U pratnji borova ili uličnog pločnika S obzorom grada ili netaknute prirode Isti spektar riječi Sličan spektar boja Ali različite oči Različito zrcale Istih slova zvuk.
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Apr 27, 2015
Apr 27, 2015 at 1:52 PM UTC
Puzzle
I wake to the news of another lynching As our boys scream Bleed Blue And over the border, the Green Girls rejoice And somewhere in Jharkhand Two families mourn the death of their men Cattle traders? Terrorists? Muslim? With cloth stuffed in their throats And arms tied behind Hatred showing in the mob mentality Another dark blot on our secular fabric And I watch a short film, India, India Of a young boy on Tuesday selling ganeshas at a temple Another image of the same boy on a Friday Selling taweez and chanting Ya Ali Outside Mumbai’s Haji Ali And on Sunday, the same boy singing the praises of the Lord outside a church, selling amulets And I smile This is the India I love, the different faiths The acceptance, the co-existence As the morning drones on, I watch and participate In the endless debates on Facebook and Twitter Of people posing, taking sides, sounding pedantic While they sit comfortably in their homes Sipping ginger tea made by an underage maid While their Labrador retriever is taken for a walk By their Nepali driver and the Muslim cook smokes a bidi In the garden with the Bihari maali where their son plays But what will happen to the sons of the lynched cattle traders? What will happen to the brothers of the women ***** What will happen to the mothers of the sons killed? What will happen to the fathers of the unborn children Killed for their mistake of being a girl child? Is this the India we want to grow up in? Is this the India we want to have children in? Is this the India we want to grow old in? Wake up, my country, it is still dawn The road is long and far and we have miles to walk Towards peace and freedom and love Towards acceptance and equality and oneness Get off that sofa and make a difference Participate, vote, empower, create, enable It’s up to you whether our country goes this way or that So, wake up, my country, it is still dawn Wake up, my country, it is still dawn
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Mar 20, 2016
Mar 20, 2016 at 7:57 AM UTC
Wake Up, My Country
I wake to the news of another lynching As our boys scream Bleed Blue And over the border, the Green Girls rejoice And somewhere in Jharkhand Two families mourn the death of their men Cattle traders? Terrorists? Muslim? With cloth stuffed in their throats And arms tied behind Hatred showing in the mob mentality Another dark blot on our secular fabric And I watch a short film, India, India Of a young boy on Tuesday selling ganeshas at a temple Another image of the same boy on a Friday Selling taweez and chanting Ya Ali Outside Mumbai’s Haji Ali And on Sunday, the same boy singing the praises of the Lord outside a church, selling amulets And I smile This is the India I love, the different faiths The acceptance, the co-existence As the morning drones on, I watch and participate In the endless debates on Facebook and Twitter Of people posing, taking sides, sounding pedantic While they sit comfortably in their homes Sipping ginger tea made by an underage maid While their Labrador retriever is taken for a walk By their Nepali driver and the Muslim cook smokes a bidi In the garden with the Bihari maali where their son plays But what will happen to the sons of the lynched cattle traders? What will happen to the brothers of the women ***** What will happen to the mothers of the sons killed? What will happen to the fathers of the unborn children Killed for their mistake of being a girl child? Is this the India we want to grow up in? Is this the India we want to have children in? Is this the India we want to grow old in? Wake up, my country, it is still dawn The road is long and far and we have miles to walk Towards peace and freedom and love Towards acceptance and equality and oneness Get off that sofa and make a difference Participate, vote, empower, create, enable It’s up to you whether our country goes this way or that So, wake up, my country, it is still dawn Wake up, my country, it is still dawn
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45
*Main Talkhi-e-Hayat Se Ghabra Ke Pi Gaya Gham Ki Siyah Raat Se Ghabra Ke Pi Gaya* **With the worry from bitterness of life, I drank With the grief of my darkest night, I drank** *Itni Daqiq Shai Koi Kaise Samajh Sake Yazdan Ke Vaqiat Se Ghabra Ke Pi Gaya* **Such delicate substance, how can one comprehend? With the fear of merciful moment, I drank** *Chhalke Hue The Jaam Pareshan Thi Zulf-e-Yaar Kuchh Aise Hadsat Se Ghabra Ke Pi Gaya* **Overflowing cups and beloved’s anxious tresses With the concern for such calamities, I drank** *Main Aadmi Huun Koi Farishta Nahi Huzur Main Aaj Apni Zaat Se Ghabra Ke Pi Gaya* **Human I am and no angel O’ respected Today, with the vigilance of my own being, I drank** *Duniya-e-Hadsat Hai Ik Dardnak Giit Duniya-e-Hadsat Se Ghabra Ke Pi Gaya* **World of incidents is an agonising song With the discomfort of this world of incidents, I drank** *Kante To Khair Kante Hain Is Ka Gila Hi Kya Phulon Ki Vardat Se Ghabra Ke Pi Gaya* **Thorns are yet thorns and there is no complaint With the scare from crimes of flowers, I drank** *Saghar Vo Kah Rahe The Ki Pi Lijiye Huzur Un Ki Guzarishat Se Ghabra Ke Pi Gaya* **Saghar they said drink O’ respected And with the care for their wishes, I drank** — Translated by Jamil Hussain, Poet Saghar Siddiqui, Sung by Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan
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Oct 26, 2016
Oct 26, 2016 at 6:08 AM UTC
I Drank
Under the bluish yellow marble sky I introduce my soul; to the demon & the angels By the lemons tree, I've unleashed my hair and unbutton my blouse Then cried as if my teacher called me the black girl I will call to the 1st passing girl: "Slow down, please wait for me; Rise me up by my arms like a little girl. I wanted her to Plait 2 branches; of hair for me To walk over the world's cold grass And lie down in front of the sea Forget the stars - she said Forget the sea - I said We left the world coughing its smoke; of poisoned kids' toys, cast the residuals of cosmetics and tore bras Into this sacred sea So come with me my friend Delete all of my contacts smash my mobile phone by your shoe's heel And let's vanish from this world Toward shiny white space Toward inky smell books Toward white skies and pink kisses infinite daylight For you and for me. - Sally S. Ali
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Jan 21, 2019
Jan 21, 2019 at 6:00 PM UTC
Lemon girl and starry night