"amir" poems
'Kabali' and 'Badlapur' actor Radhika Apte will be the show-stopper in the upcoming Lakme Fashion Week in the ‘Gulzar’ collections of a prominent Kolkata-based fashion designer.
“We have been working with Radhika since 'Majhi the Mountain Man' days (2015) and she will be flaunting our fabrics as show-stopper in India’s premier fashion show which is keenly followed by Bollywood," the well-known city-based woman fashion designer told media after a fashion show in a city hotel last Friday night.
The Lakme Fashion Week is a bi-annual fashion event with the summer-resort show taking place in April while the winter-festive show is held in August.
This year the winter-festive show will be held from August 24 to 28.
Radhika will be wearing bright-colored lehenga since the show will be focused on beautiful India, it’s colours and contours, choreographed with the poetry of nature by Amir Khusro, the designer said.
“It can also be termed our tribute to a great name like Gulzar saab who has brought our lyrics and poems to a new level,” the designer Saroj Jalan said.
The signature style of the designer, whose works adorn Bollywood actors like Radhika beside well known models Lisa Sharma and former Miss Universe India winner Ushoshi Sengupta, is delicate floral patterns along with the use of Zardozi and array of hand-woven tusser silk and velvet enhancing the experience of the garments and “we will project the same in the Lakme week where the accent is on ethnicity,” designer Saroj Jalan said.
Supermodel Ushoshi, having recently debuted in the Bengali film 'Egoler Chokh', said “Lakme show reflects the different tastes of all leading Indian fashion designers who are still rooted to Indian heritage.”Read more at:http://www.marieaustralia.com/short-formal-dresses | www.marieaustralia.com/red-carpet-celebrity-dresses
Aug 22, 2016
Aug 22, 2016 at 12:29 AM UTC
Look at the skeletons – they’re dancing in the yard –
And the violet smells in the new day forward.
Yesterday is so far, and the party is done;
Gone are the petits fours and the sound of the drums.
Today the wine is red and I push with my thumbs
Some leftovers of bread on the table, some crumbs.
Wasps are nibbling the grapes and the time can’t rewind:
How cold are the graves; I am losing my mind.
They’re clicking the laughters and clapping all the bones;
Their pidgins are swishers in cages of the zoos:
Mariette and Amir went all the way up there,
– Like an old souvenir – and it makes me shiver.
Look at the skeletons – they’re dancing in the yard –
And the violet smells in the new day forward.
Amir was a poet and Mariette a dove.
Who can tell that the death is watching out for love?
Yesterday the river saw us throwing some stones,
And drinking cans of beer. The sunlight and the glows
Of tiny water hints: we had to fold the eyes.
Who can tell that omens were these water lilies?
Mariette was wearing her pretty yellow pearls,
Her simple golden ring. The long mane and the curls
Of Amir, and his mood, were like hot butterflies
They were so young and proud: Why can't I stop my cries?
Look at the skeletons – they’re dancing in the yard –
And the violet smells in the new day forward.
Of what kind is this waltz, this triple meter dance,
This strange time with no source, which always starts and ends?
Yesterday, tomorrow; this day: a stunning ride
On horses of sorrow where I cried as a child.
Knucklebones of my hands, and my feet in the snow:
Of what kind are these wounds spoiling red my pillow?
Mariette cried and laughed, this all at the same time,
As Amir depictured the story of their fine
And very first kisses under the almond tree.
Their sweet and calm faces have fired poetry.
Look at the skeletons – they’re dancing in the yard –
And the violet smells in the new day forward…
(c) Quitterie Kerlach
Nov 12, 2017
Nov 12, 2017 at 2:46 AM UTC
What,
what shall I do with you?
My gipsy, my fix, my oyster, sea —
only a few spiritual members
gather in front of you, speechless:
my eyes, lips, ***** hands…
— And the heart, my love, where is the heart?
Here and here, and there, my love,
in every place
that your lips touch.
Amir Or from Let's speak you
Oct 9, 2015
Oct 9, 2015 at 4:11 PM UTC
Regarde les squelettes qui dansent dans la cour
Et l'odeur de violette qui va chassant le jour.
Hier encore la fête, les nombreux petits-fours,
Le sel des cacahuètes et le son des tambours.
Aujourd'hui qu'elle est **** la joie de Mariette :
Quelques restes de pain sur la table - des miettes -
Et des grains de raisins que grignotent les guêpes,
Quand le rouge du vin nous fait perdre la tête.
Ils cliquettent les rires et grelottent les os ;
Il chuinte le sabir des cages dans ce zoo :
Mariette et Amir sont partis tout là-haut
Sans même prévenir : j'en ai froid dans le dos.
Regarde les squelettes qui dansent dans la cour
Et l'odeur de violette qui va chassant le jour.
Amir était poète, Mariette un amour.
Qui sait que la mort guette quand on a de l'humour ?
Hier, à la rivière, nous lancions des pierres,
Les canettes de bières et les traits de lumières
Éclairaient nos visages et plissaient nos regards :
Qui sait que les présages ressembl'nt aux nénuphars ?
Mariette portait ses jolies perles jaunes
Et son rire de Corte. Amir était un faune
Dont la longue crinière nous mettaient en chaleur.
Qu'ils étaient beaux et fiers : quand j'y pense je pleure
Regarde les squelettes qui dansent dans la cour
Et l'odeur de violette qui va chassant le jour.
C'est une étrange valse, une valse à trois temps,
Celle du temps qui passe et te chasse, entêtant.
Hier, ce jour, demain : étourdissant manège
Aux chevaux de bois dur où je pleurais enfant.
Osselets de mes mains, et mes pieds dans la neige :
Quelle est cette blessure où s'épuise mon sang ?
Mariette pleurait et riait à la fois,
Qu'Amir aux yeux dorés nous raconte l'émoi
De leur premier baiser sous un bel amandier.
Leurs visages apaisés nous ont incendiés.
Regarde les squelettes qui dansent dans la cour
Et l'odeur de violette qui va chassant le jour...
Nov 12, 2017
Nov 12, 2017 at 3:09 AM UTC
I need to write a poem
But look, Jake and Amir
Just one video, Amir has got braces oh dear
I'll get back to work soon after this
Wookie Jesus and kittens that explode
New info on The Last Of Us the movie
And cracked's opinion on sushi
And this gif wont load
Feb 23, 2015
Feb 23, 2015 at 1:37 PM UTC
You say: to be penetrated, to penetrate. Sea-sand, sand-sea
verging on the very centre. Words fall between us
like something broken. Listen, I love you.
But you, having it only your way, exist, exist, exist.
You are not being paid for this and still,
Mr. and Mrs. Other, you stroll along the street as if
you’re only a name and have no navel. I
act like you, repeat the movements
which you repeat. Tell me, reflection —
I throw another stone at you — is anyone more actual than me?
I say sand-sea, sea-sand. Like something
broken: a multiplication of faces, legs and hands like
something
that’s there. So: enough. Come back to me. I’ll let you go
as often as you like.
Now there’s no longer a difference between us, except this
poem
where some sort of a world lives. Another possibility,
not really different: here, you don’t leave at all.
You don’t stop coming for a moment. I open
a mirror and turn its pages in front of what’s already
written. It’s what you are: sadness in front of the blue evening sky,
anger, insult, longing ******* the blue from your chest
or happiness that suddenly spills in front of the blue of that evening sky;
it’s a voice which accompanies what, looking,
I see now or don’t see. And I see you:
world by world, now by now, one
and yet another one. In this poem that stumbles from page
to page you watch and flicker between letter and letter
and vanish — present in every one of these apparently silent centimeters —
and don’t stop coming, and not really coming. So enough, please,
don’t hide everywhere, talk to me, all of you at once.
Amir Or, from Let's Speak You
translated by Ioana Ieronim
Jan 13, 2016
Jan 13, 2016 at 5:23 AM UTC
Sabke zindagi ki kuch aesi kahaniyaan hoti h jo logo s chupi hoti h
Jo bsh kuch anjaana sa hota h
Tik wese hi yh kahani h
Isha ki
Logo ka manna tha wo kathor dil wali amir ghamandi ladki h
Pr log kya jaane wo amir ** k v akeli h
Logo ko kya pta ki wo v bsh kuch waqt pehle khudh s mili h
Mohobbat tutne s jada dard apno k ruthne ya bharosha tutne pr hota h
Wo to ek maasum si thi
Ushe to pta hi nhi tha ki wo kabhi esh Isha s milegi jo ki kathor patthar ki trh sakt h
Pr jis waqt ushe fareb, dokha or bewafaae k dard ka ehesash hua
Uski sachchae s jo wo wakif hue to usne apni masumiyat ko khudh k saamne mrta paya
Usne uske dil ko gilli mitti s kathor patthar bnta paya
Usne apne bharoshe pe bharosha kr sb kuch tutta - bikhrta paya
Ush din apne ko hi nhi apno ko v khudh s dur jata paya
Or ush waqt khudh k maut pr khudh ko rota paya
Or fir bn k tayyar hue kathor patthar
Jisko puri trh smjhna aaj v aashan ** na paya
Jun 21, 2021
Jun 21, 2021 at 2:11 PM UTC
Jemariku menari di atas aksara.
Kemari sayang,
nanti malam aku akan ceritakan pertarungan antara Putri Cina dengan Amir Hamzah,
dan Pangeran Bulan yang tak pernah datang.
Tragedi Sampek yang menjelma kupu-kupu disusul kekasihnya.
memilih abadi dalam dunia baka,
ketimbang hidup 100 tahun bersama lara.
aku akan tutup dongeng malam dengan kisah kita yang abadi dalam dimensi khayal.
"Selamat malam."
May 9, 2019
May 9, 2019 at 2:58 AM UTC
This is for amir sofi
Because it took me a total of 30 seconds after he walked on stage to think
"where is he from"
because i'm probably still pronouncing his name wrong
Because he is a brown boy in a mistakenly white america
Amir i am sorry
I share a well known thought process when it comes to you
i think
"I wonder where his family lives"
"I wonder if they are all together"
"I wonder how he got here"
"I wonder what he believes in"
"I wonder if he is a citizen"
As if it is any of my god **** business whether or not you pay taxes
I am 17 years old, I don't really care about taxes
and i don't think they should determine your amount of freedom
So why is it when you walk on stage my biggest concern is your citizenship to this country.
Amir there is something we need to understand
I will not stand here to wallow in self pity about how i am not progressive enough
I will not let you stand there and listen to a poem about my underdeveloped thought process
We need to be proactive lets make a plan
how about we
Paint everybody brown We can assemble a street team, some very enthusiastic people with paint brushes who want to change the world
Oh Oh how about we assassinate the president that always seems to get a point across. wait, that would be counter productive
this president is a step for us
Oh i got it! petition to make every american constantly where a blindfold
you can't judge skin you can't see
petition to paint the white house purple!
Thats it! Here me out!
You're a brown boy in a country managed by a black man in a white house.
This doesn't sound very balanced, people are being represented but you are not all people amir
I just think the place where our countries biggest decisions are made should be a color not designated to a certain race.
And i kinda like the color purple
Alright that's step one
Whats next?
More paint?
Making all of the skittles in the package one color so people don't have a chance to pick their favorites.
I heard you amir
to many people of color spend their lives painting things white
don't change your last name for me i will adapt
we will all adapt
you to the long and challenging process of acceptance from southern man
and us to the to changing our hearts to embracing every color
Thank you Amir for your patience
I am so sorry about your calluses
thank you for what you have become amir
I appreciate you amir
Dec 3, 2014
Dec 3, 2014 at 6:00 PM UTC
This was the temptation:
to rub the I against the you,
our thought against its images.
To feel.
We were there before, you remember,
without mother or father, without navel,
marked only by the first cut.
Free of weight, measurement, destruction
we wandered inside each other, dreamt worlds,
lived.
But the stakes were too low,
the risk — only a game.
Desire was action,
instantly complete.
And that’s the way (remember?) we got here too:
by a single desire,
by a glance.
And now we’re here, in the viscous air,
rubbing this in, with effort —
every single sensation, every meeting.
Our suns rise and set,
our worlds get old,
but here:
suddenly we find
a new wrinkle in our soul,
and this — is for real. It’s real. Finally
we can lose, destroy,
finally we are alive.
For a moment
we can even die.
Amir Or, from Let's speak you
Aug 9, 2015
Aug 9, 2015 at 1:41 AM UTC
Saleel suggested his name for moderator,
It increased my curiosity, and I understood he must be lover of our creator.
One day a man with same name entered a thread.
His opponents were angered and became red.
He was merciless and continued with his onslaught.
He didn't give up until the lesson was taught.
He held tightly the rope of Allah in his fist.
Very soon he was in Taskeen's friend list.
He believes in the policy of 'tit for tat'.
He loves animal specially big round cat.
Now I see a different side of him.
He is polite, kind, lively and not grim
In both worlds may Allah give him fame.
Amir Mustafa is his name.
Nov 9, 2014
Nov 9, 2014 at 5:07 AM UTC
I’ll be gone by the time you read this, I loved you but you couldn’t see it.
Break my heart and slowly slit my wrists before this love ever tries to **** me.
This is the part where the story begins or maybe where the beginning ends.
We traded in our lives for religion, this is a sinner’s redemption and you’ve been flying kites like Amir.
Did I not deserve the kind of love and happiness that I have been consistently writing about?
I yearn for a reality worth dreaming about, but lately my heart has been paralysed by doubt.
Time is expensive like a Richard Mille watch but every minute I spent with you was worth it.
It hurts me to say, that no matter what you say or do, I’ll always be by your side pulling you through.
I’ve been feeling hollow, I’ve been feeling pain while trying to let go of memories of the past.
I’ve realised that reality is not as beautiful as it seems as soon as the sun set on the horizon of my dreams.
You settled for a takeaway when you could’ve had the world on a silver platter.
Now that you’ve left, I realised how you were right when you said that I deserve better.
But I’m uncertain of how to feel about the heartbreak I once felt a while ago in Hatfield.
May 24, 2018
May 24, 2018 at 3:14 AM UTC
kuranın ne zaman
ve nerede çekileceğini
bilmemekle
ödüllendirildi insanoğlu..
bir kitapçıda
sayfaları çevirirken
henüz yazılmamış
bir şiirin ilk dizesi
sizi gözlerinizden kavrayıp
mısradan mısraya vurduğunda
küçük bir kıvılcımın
büyük bir yangıya
dönüşeceği olgusunu
kim bilebilir?
bu karşılıklı
elektriksel akımın
sürrealist boyutlarındaki
göz eşleşmesi
yerini dudaklara bıraktığında
kalp çarpıntınız
ve tatlı titremeler
genital üyeleri
sık sık
oturuma davet eder
bu
zaman ve mekan
mefhumundan uzak
ilahi açlığın
ilahi tasarımındaki varoluş
yaratım yasası
değiştirilmesi teklif dahi edilemez
amir hükmü olma hasebiyle,
göz
dudak
ve kalp
eşleşmesinin ardından
ay'a oranla çekim gücü
milyon ışık yılı olan
yeni bir gezegenin
ilk yapı taşlarını oluşturur
genitallerin
karşılıklı uyumu..
aşk
güven
samimiyet
ve sadakatle
parsellendiğinde,
eşleşmelerin
dünya balayı
taraflardan birinin
merkeze alınmasına
dek sürer
işte ben buna
gerçeküstü eşleşmeler diyorum
sonu -suz-olmayan
sonsuz eşleşmeler..
..
Jul 10, 2019
Jul 10, 2019 at 7:40 PM UTC
tata je znao
znao je prije mene i mame
znao je
i patio je duze od nas
patio i patio je
dok smo se nadali
on je znao
i sa slomljenim srcem
je zivio gotovo dvije godine
rekli su nam
a moj tata
on rekao je
da je znao
u njemu ni jedna nada
nije zivjela
samo znanje
znao je
da Amira nece biti vise dugo
my father knew
he knew before me and mom
he knew
and he suffered longer than us
he suffered and suffered
while we were hoping
he knew
and with a broken heart
he lived almost two years
they told us
and my father
he said
that he knew
inside him not one hope
has lived
only the knowledge
he knew
that Amir won't be any longer
Feb 27, 2019
Feb 27, 2019 at 12:20 PM UTC
There is a cage
I observe it from my balcony every day
Inside there is a bird
Too beautiful and with the chirping shrill
It seems someone trapped her brutally!
Enduring existence away from the marches of a vast faction of ally
Which she couldn't bear to hide emotions
When I gazed in her eyes
The pain that couldn't be healed!
With the suffering and the pain
On which a fragile how long can remain!
Sometimes she chirrups slowly as the flute of nosogenic tone
And downcast eyes when no one notices her miserable life
There inside the cage, plenty of happiness
As I supposed from the old terrace but
There is an absence of
Independence and a true pleasure
Dreams to fly with the march of ally!
There is a crude who kept her in the cage
He is like a creepy
Crammed with the futile peculiarity,
Inside her mind and heart
She tries to sing a song but
The caged has a fearful trill
No Wonder! How moments of joy isn't still!
Her wings are clipped and her feet are tied,
A bird outside of the cage
Sings a song shrill
With the cool gentle breeze
She follows her dream
Singing on the trees to the street
With a ray of sunshine
She tumbles to fight with the dark,
I observe the two birds
Always with intriguing wit and eyes
One caged and
Another flying freely
I hear both the nosogenic tone and the chirpings pleasant
Sometimes I wonder to my life
And I find always bound
With the shackles
And the nuisance of some who don't belong to my present, future and past!
Like the bird caged
Inside the bleak path full of dark
The dreams I dreamt
Through my eyes
They decide to put shackles on the wing,
There remains a bird and a fragile
One caged inside the cage another in the societal life
There may be some solution
I didn't get through it
But
There lie a passion and willingness
And I have a shackles
As she has a cage
The bird identifies me as an identical soul
Tries to confront
And shows compassion
But there is a space
In between us
A lengthy and the vast
And the wingless
We both
Downcasting our gazes
Smashed with the expectations
We both shuts
Our door beneath the profound sky!
©Amir Raza
Dec 22, 2020
Dec 22, 2020 at 1:20 AM UTC
In this vulnerable, resting, sunset light
the eye is thickened with shadow, deepened by absence.
Things hang in space, ground down by being seen, transparent —
and the mode they exist in now
is their mode of fading away.
The creating eye has weakened;
and the world that streamed — is almost already all sea;
whoever’s in front of me, behind me, at my side —
is me, but isn’t here.
And it’s already late. And the day’s over.
And we were left here, alone.
On the banks of the world
there we sat down, imploring our souls —
There we weep, eyeless,
when our gaze sinks into the great sea
and we suddenly remember
who we have been.
Amir Or, from Let's speak you
Aug 9, 2015
Aug 9, 2015 at 1:36 AM UTC
A glory to your name
Engraved in characters clear
The Sun itself imparts to your flame
May 3, 2019
May 3, 2019 at 8:30 AM UTC
Latin American, Women's, Women's,
Women's Women in Islam, WHO family, | |
women in America, Kenya / Amir Simaar,
USA [Jewish stone jewelry]. Australian
cinema, love, love President of the United
States fell, watching the dogs of President
Joseph 's first dog and four dogs and four dogs
of Kenya, Irico, Lal, Her and Lal. Kenya Red,
Natura Natura, Italy, Odyssey in 2020, USA,
Tourist, Rebels, Free, Oceans, Trees, Pete's
Wave, Greece I am sorry, I am sorry,
I am sorry, I am sorry, I am sorry, I am sorry,
I am sorry, I am sorry, I am sorry, I am sorry,
Pitt, Gray Gray, Greece, Greece, 4487 / 5000
Australia Photo State, Kentucky, Australia,
United States believes that three stones
and gloves have not changed in Australia. ||
I am sorry, I want something see I am sorry,
Erica, George Washington There are four
sections, 200 and 200 Exciting examination
in European Testing High Court American
women, holidays, American singers, in music
gambling is a celebration of the city at 9 pm
in Australia It I a funeral for the US Red,
green, blue, pink, red, green, South Africa,
Iran is a bad, friend, but do not hesitate,
give all shepherds Einstein, Kennedy, Vitamin,
Fine Arts, Italy, women and leaders who not
like tennis, talking about shooting I am experiencing
100 animals in Canada with a big problem
named Mark Arthur encounters Paul on fossils,
guitars, weapons produced by Douglas Red,
Red, Purple, Silk, Cotton, Iran made the most beautiful
of 200 junior High school students and has 15 children.
The best Americans, victims and expensive services
of Greece, the United States of America
and Latin America are offered The problem of doing it,
to succeed in the fire of George, George Wade,
Georgia as a good car machine, fire at home,
her lesbian friends Einstein's mother, vitamin D cannot sleep.|
Nov 18, 2018
Nov 18, 2018 at 10:51 PM UTC