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"biryani" poems
"Stoner's Poem" I see your snapstories, I see your ask profile. I see how you comment and reply and flaunt your English skills. Trust me, I love your rebuttals, More than Biryani and the Lebanese pornstar. I see your Facebook posts, I see your WordPress, And I see, how you craft your poems flamboyantly, And then, and then, Pilfer my breath, And rob my me. Sometimes, just sometimes, Your deportment bewilders me, More than Lowry-Bronsted's theory. I see how you dance in the rain, Like "All, sin, tan, cos", do in my brain. I see how you frequent every segment of my cardiac muscle, And then desert it, like it's one of the many dilapidated constructions. My reminiscences about your thingness, Escalate me to a higher spiritual level, More than **** does. Oh, that smile, Oh, that look, Oh, the mystique in you. And again, I am writing of Love. And the pen doesn't seem to stop soon, For I have taken a greater risk, Than asking my friend about cathodes and anodes and electrolysis, while I took my last chemistry exam, When the invigilator was around.
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May 14, 2016
May 14, 2016 at 3:55 AM UTC
Stoner's poem
My aged mum excitedly points outside White flowers burst open bright overnight She says they look like popcorn I love her metaphor and play along Flowers white like popcorn bright Tickled by the heat of the micro light Mum speaks of small things in her big age Sun, rain, wind, hot, cold, quite days The unrelenting pain in her legs and memories of things she could once do with ease She speaks of the coming and going of mischievous monkeys real monkeys - not metaphors She tells of how they brazenly steal her fruit when she is alone at home - teasing her as they walk backwards out the glass door slinging their stolen bananas like a colt 44 My mum sits across from me the sun gently brushes her short silver grey strands of hair Today she wears a pretty pink dress - patterned bright with pretty pink and blue flowers - reflection of the pretty flowers outside She sits in serenity - she is at peace - inside My niece pops corn in the microwave My sisters biryani fills the hungry air My brother in law awaits his birthday party I am at home The pretty white flowers silently blossom in the yard I sit across from my metaphor mum My poet, my muse, my loving bard Stanley Arumugam Richards Bay
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Mar 19, 2014
Mar 19, 2014 at 1:51 PM UTC
Flowers like popcorn
EID MUBARAK wishing all my friends and colleagues "Eid Mubarak." Celebrate may you, with Biryani, kababs,sevaiya n food from the "sadak". May there be happinezzz n peace, in your lives. May there be good health n honey, from the best bee hives. With best wishes, Armin Dutia Motashaw
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Jun 15, 2019
Jun 15, 2019 at 4:46 AM UTC
Eid Mubarak
Namaz have been prayed, Duas have have been said, Sev khurma and biryani is ready, Just go slow and steady. Make the most of this joyous day I request, I wish you and your family all the best, On this Eid Day 5/6/2019
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Jun 5, 2019
Jun 5, 2019 at 8:34 AM UTC
EID MUBARAK
I live my life the way I want and I don't care what others think or chant. Accept me or reject me. I am shy, I am humble and I am kind, but harsh and blunt may my enemies find. Accept me or reject me. Many call me bigot and fanatic for passion I show towards my religion but i don't care, I am ready to defend it in every season and in all condition. Accept me or reject me. I am an introvert and live mostly on my own, that doesn't mean I am unfriendly and to my friends its known and shown. Accept me or reject me. I like Dosas, biryani, nehari and chicken fry. but I am always prepared for salt and roti dry. Accept me or reject me. I am no saint, I do mistakes and then I regret, but I am always ready to forgive and forget. Accept me or reject me. I try to speak the truth and sometimes it is very sour I will continue that way, whether you declare a war, or put me behind bar. Accept me or reject me. I keep my distance from disco, cigarette, girls and liquor, that's not my way and that's not my style, for which my friend's make my fun, but I ignore them all with a smile. Accept me or reject me. This is my story and this is my tale It is for you all, and it is not for sale. Accept me or reject me. I love my prophet(pbuh) and I love Allah, I am Muhammad Asadullah. Accept me or reject me. Accept me or reject me.
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Nov 2, 2014
Nov 2, 2014 at 3:12 AM UTC
ACCEPT ME OR REJECT ME
Many Happy returns of the Day Mani Hope you celebrate such days, many This world we know is fani Your style of story-telling is toofaani Hindi Raj Kumar’s famous dialogue, Eh Jaani I am sure you are singing, Rajesh Khanna’s “Mere sapno ki Rani” Sunday ** yah Monday, roz khao Andey! We are okay to settle with Hyderabadi Biryani in Dande
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Aug 29, 2014
Aug 29, 2014 at 7:49 PM UTC
Happy BirthDay
You'll eat meat And love a bacon sarnie When you're ****** You'll smash a biryani But when it comes to Chopped pork, rinds and ham No one wants to eat spam In the Great War We survived on rations And beat zee Germans With ******* passion The lads didn't complain About what they had to eat Whether it was a le carte Or mashed-up meat But these days That's not your jam And no one wants to eat spam It's great in a fry up And ******* lovely in a butty Get the kettle on And get comfy And enjoy A cup of ******* tea And eat your spam Perfect with ketchup or HP And don't complain That it ain't real meat Just get it in your gob And enjoy this tasty treat But most of you Are to blame And like the majority Don't think it's the same You're into avocados Poached eggs and all that And can't stand the thought Of a chopped pig in a can When you were young You should've listened to your nan Now it's a ******* shame No one wants to eat spam
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Oct 10, 2017
Oct 10, 2017 at 5:01 PM UTC
Spam
The headlights blaze, a horn honks, I look at the traffic light, I wait, at a signal, in a traffic jam, stuck. Soldiers storm a university, in a book a dog dies, a girl fights tumors in her ******* the world turns, and in a traffic jam, I remain stuck. Later in the night, in my bed, I lie scrolling Instagram stories follow one another, a quick progression: outrage on an atrocity turns and becomes 40% Sale on a fashion brand, turns and becomes the best biryani in town, turns and becomes a friend at a pub, turns and becomes my office desk, turns and becomes an empty page, turns and becomes a traffic jam, turns and does not become anything, and I remain stuck.
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Jan 14, 2020
Jan 14, 2020 at 6:55 AM UTC
Stuck
Santa Fe, Texas May 18, 2018 welcome to America. where there had been 11 school shootings before the end of january of 2018. welcome to America where the mentality of the attacker is the problem, and not the system. welcome to America where a 17 year old Pakistani girl was killed in her school among 9 other beautiful souls. welcome to America, Sabika which was greeted to you nearly six months ago where you arrived in the "land of hopes and dreams" to learn and grow and achieve. welcome to America the country that showed promise from the looming Taliban threats in Karachi, your hometown. welcome to America the country that you were going to help save Pakistan by building stronger US - Pakistan relationships and showing women empowerment by being (possibly) the second female prime minister of Pakistan. never again would you watch fireworks explode in the sky on August 14 never again would you count up your money on Eid never again would you eat your mom's biryani on a hot summer day. welcome to America, Sabika Sheikh your hopes and dreams were alive and floating in the land you gave your heart to and the land that would take it away. - a.g.
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May 25, 2018
May 25, 2018 at 10:56 PM UTC
in loving memory of Sabika Sheikh
A date night with myself With my best mood on Flaunting my smile to myself Amazingly interesting it will be I said to myself And left for a shimmering place To eat and to be with me Chicken biryani with kabab And pulpy grape juice My fav food I ordered Food, me and love All at once With music on To celebrate my me-time!
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May 6, 2018
May 6, 2018 at 1:17 PM UTC
Celebrating aloneness
Cigarette buds Empty glasses Always a wine glass shatters Leftover biryani Leg bones The crease in the beds Sofa cushions on the floor Guests have left Empty house Just me and the wait for the next weekend.
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Aug 21, 2021
Aug 21, 2021 at 9:30 AM UTC
After the Party
Recruitment without Naukri Is like a cobra Stripped of its venom A tree without leaves A musician without an instrument A Mutton Biryani without the mutton A laptop without a battery I can go on and on But you get the gist, right? Recruitment without Naukri How does it even work? Of course, there are other portals LinkedIn, Monster, Indeed TimesJobs, Shine, Updazz Dice, Hirist, Instahyre But do they even come close To matching the pin-point accuracy The sheer amount of detailing The refreshing practicality And finally, the user-friendliness That Naukri brings to the table? The answer to that, unfortunately Is a resounding no Recruitment without Naukri? Can it be managed? As mentioned earlier There are other portals But will your boss be ready to pay For any of them, apart from LinkedIn? The answer to that, unfortunately Is again a resounding no Recruitment without Naukri Coupled with a miserly boss Is like chasing 350 in 50 overs On a seaming wicket at Leeds All your hard work at the nets Goes to the drain As you keep trying to hit boundaries And end up getting clean bowled instead Ultimately, the loser is not the client Not the boss either It is you, and only you
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May 20, 2021
May 20, 2021 at 2:22 AM UTC
Recruitment without Naukri
In the morning, firstly Eat nothing but honey The brain will be fresh And body will be warmed Then, we must get in the kitchen... Fresh ingredient are well packed So let the Biryani of peace cooked Now, world is full of thirsty of war Every nation is eager, to attack or defend... So what to do? Just to prepare to take Biryani of peace after been cooked
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Mar 13, 2022
Mar 13, 2022 at 5:51 AM UTC
Biryani of peace
Thought I was over you but, little things keeps reminding me of you. The way used to take that bite off my sandwich, pretend it wasn't you. When you used to divide our favorite biryani, keeping more for me. That wrist watch of yours with no second hand. When you used to try on my new jackets, Then refusing to take it off anytime soon. Loving everything that I gave you, Collecting gifts, roses, even the wrapper of the first bournville  that we had together. You ain't here to try on my jackets no more, To sneak a bite off my sandwich, To practice that couple salsa dance with me. To ride with me in perfect weather. I see you in every girl I know, Everything around reminds me of you. Never thought I would miss you this much, But I fuckin' do. Wonder IF YOU STILL MISS ME TOO!!
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Feb 28, 2019
Feb 28, 2019 at 5:07 AM UTC
I wonder if you still miss me
For four years have I known you From railfans to close friends Quite the journey has it been In the train of relationships Thou art innocent and sweet But when it comest to talking Oh boy, do you set the bar high With an expertise in four languages At the age of just twenty-four!! Every outing we've had Has been nothing short of memorable From the hurricane run On board the famous Pune Shatabdi To the thrilling boat ride Through the equally famous Bhigwan Bird Sanctuary Add a few movies in between Not to mention, drinks *** dinner And you have the icing on the cake Whenever I've come to Pune I've always felt at home Your family being the engine To my train of love, happiness and peace From your mother's cooking To your father's hospitality Not to mention, your lavish home With a plethora of facilities You ain't just no friend But a younger brother as well Quite the honour has it been To have you at our home Something we should do more often After all, we are thick as thieves For four years have I known you And with every year Our bond has grown stronger Than even the Rock of Gibraltar Which ain't no surprise Since we have a lot in common Trains, cricket, movies Food, drinks, cats The list is endless For four years have I known you And our friendship is something to be cherished As much as India winning a Cricket World Cup Or a journey in a diesel-hauled train Or even, Hyderabad's finest Mutton Biryani!! I endeth on this note Age is just a number Even when it comest to relationships
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Oct 15, 2023
Oct 15, 2023 at 6:50 AM UTC
For Four Years Have I Known You
For four years have I known you From railfans to close friends Quite the journey has it been In the train of relationships Thou art innocent and sweet But when it comest to talking Oh boy, do you set the bar high With an expertise in four languages At the age of just twenty-four!! Every outing we've had Has been nothing short of memorable From the hurricane run On board the famous Pune Shatabdi To the thrilling boat ride Through the equally famous Bhigwan Bird Sanctuary Add a few movies in between Not to mention, drinks *** dinner And you have the icing on the cake Whenever I've come to Pune I've always felt at home Your family being the engine To my train of love, happiness and peace From your mother's cooking To your father's hospitality Not to mention, your lavish home With a plethora of facilities You ain't just no friend But a younger brother as well Quite the honour has it been To have you at our home Something we should do more often After all, we are thick as thieves For four years have I known you And with every year Our bond has grown stronger Than even the Rock of Gibraltar Which ain't no surprise Since we have a lot in common Trains, cricket, movies Food, drinks, cats The list is endless For four years have I known you And our friendship is something to be cherished As much as India winning a Cricket World Cup Or a journey in a diesel-hauled train Or even, Hyderabad's finest Mutton Biryani!! I endeth on this note Age is just a number Even when it comest to relationships
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I like me, Yes,I like me, I really like me I really, really like me. I am no pretense, I am what I can be. I am a candy that children love, I am a nutty chocolate that some die for, While others are allergic to it. I am a savoury snack you find in youngsters backpack, Or you take for picnics. I am a roast turkey or Biryani  for family feasts, I am a mild soup for the aged. I laugh and make others laugh, I cry, but wipe others tears, I am gentle but can be tough when need arises. I try to be soft but rough to those who dare cross my path, I am a friend indeed. Yes, I like me, As I am, as I can be.
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Nov 7, 2018
Nov 7, 2018 at 4:28 AM UTC
I Like Me
Oh what I wouldn’t try to do For but a drop Of Bangalore rain The steamy wet mud incense Soaks through the all-too-blinded New money two-storey houses But, oh, what’s that A 2% glimmer of something A je ne sais quoi? A 2% vegetable-market-mixed-with-chai A 2% late night kabab stall A 2% unsightly shopping mall basement A 2.5% biryani from my mother’s hands A 2.5% cat resting on a soft four poster bed (Dark wood, of course) A 2.5% afternoon nap lull An 86.5% sound of a heart weeping, Far far away, For home.
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May 29, 2019
May 29, 2019 at 7:41 PM UTC
desi in videsh
Talk and hard talk... It will not solve the equation. The giants must think Summits are called Tables were rounded (again, no solution). The world is hungry for conflict... No peace-food to feed. We must get in the kitchen to prepare the Biryani of peace. For the sake of people's lives
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Mar 13, 2022
Mar 13, 2022 at 5:06 AM UTC
Get in the kitchen and prepared Biryani of peace to feed the World
Eyes twinkling like stars in sky, Lips coloured as a deep corals, Cheeks flushing like a beautiful red rose, Standing in her corridor and waiting for one to arrive And the moment he arrived her face looked like a full moon Her legs moved like a horse towards him And she took the Biryani from his hand Ran to her room and happily ate it.
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Nov 1, 2019
Nov 1, 2019 at 1:56 AM UTC
Waiting
Say I love you, Ms. T Willing am I, to change And expand my range But I will change only my behaviour Not my nature For you, can I be silent Become less brutally honest Speak more softly Walk more slowly Keep some distance Be less tense Irrespective of the situation Give you more attention Even go to jail if required As long as the cause is good! Say I love you, Ms. T With you, will I always be Loyal to the tee Through sunny and rainy days Even if I never get my way Your secrets, will I keep forever For you, deeply will I care However, never will I be overprotective No matter what, will I do my best to stay positive After all, are we a team And you make me beam!! Say I love you, Ms. T So much fun, can we have And so much, can I give A night out at Elliot's Beach Swapping tales at lunch While I savour a Beef Biryani Writing poems about each other Listening to Harris Jayaraj songs together Dissing the central government Getting into a Harry Potter related argument Travelling in a "toy train" Dancing in the Chennai rain The list will be endless And will I make sure, nothing you miss!! Say I love you, Ms. Y If you love me back I swear I will always have your back Because, are you my world And it is your hand I will forever hold If not, then thank you for this beautiful opportunity To write yet another piece of romantic poetry!!
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Nov 21, 2024
Nov 21, 2024 at 8:25 AM UTC
Say I Love You, Ms. T
INDIA is the coolest place Being here is not a disgrace Home of Bollywood Indian version of Hollywood Delicious , mouth watering food Biryani makers my mouth drool And no one should forget Chaat, Paan and sweets It is seriously worth taking a tour home of Taj Mahal and many more it has the best judiciary to make sure no one breaks the rule Apples in Kashmir are the best Once you eat one you won't rest do you know what I am talking about? Yes, it is my country INDIA
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Mar 23, 2020
Mar 23, 2020 at 9:13 AM UTC
INDIA
I have two daughters and both are girls, Call your parents and your mother and especially your father, Close the window,air force come in, Child bear sold here (chilled beer) Go and have your ***** blood and stool tasted. Get a free **** (coke) with each biryani. Free body masaz done here. 20/7/2019
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Jul 20, 2019
Jul 20, 2019 at 7:58 AM UTC
Mess of English
Huge n grand it was, under those beautiful heavenly open skies On the banks of river Tapi, in Mughlisera, Surat it now dilapidated lies ; Known better it is as "Angrj ni kothi"; the East India factory; were its old ties!! A compound huge, with a garden; estimate you just can't, its price !!! How I wish, it was actually mine, loved I every bit of it; specially its location n size. Always admire I would, those marvellous Sunsets n watch enamored the magical moon rise. Listen I often did, to beautiful lilting songs of yore; on a stereo of high quality n price Enjoyed I the breeze cool, blowing over the river, as I ate food, specially my Mom's Biryani rice. And most of all, I enjoyed the glow on my Mom's face, whenever with my visit, I her surprised!!! Oh wonderful were those days I spent with my beloveds, no one can ever quote their price Miss I its beauty n grandeur, lures me that balcony even today; hope like Phoenix it will again arise. May this dream come true, may that happiness from nowhere again arise. Aedoon Baad Armin Dutia Motashaw
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May 21, 2020
May 21, 2020 at 6:02 AM UTC
MY COOPER MANSION
Twenty and two pieces of banana leaves Spread over stacks of news paper sheets On each leaf a red spot of lemon tickle while the boiled egg on top buckle Over the three serves of mixed veg Biryani These meals are to be packed and distributed at the lane After three parcels the cello tape came to the reel's end Nineteen parcels still to be packed and it's thirty past nine The hungry have to be fed and the office duty starts at ten How to pack the food parcels when the cellophane tape is spent O god, the brain black out and hypnotic And in no time the left hand stretch robotic Moves to the left to a corner below the table Amidst a jumble of books past two boxes  and cable The index finger skips the top one and aims The lid of the second one and claims a brand new cello tape immense Out of a stupor the brain awakens with a sense O Jesus! His presence Heart heaving, Tears gushing 'Am not alone but Jesus Like a baby watching curiously a craftsman work, He is always beside the great Me, lurk When the human wit run out and escape Pouncing to catch for  me even  a cello tape
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May 30, 2022
May 30, 2022 at 2:51 AM UTC
Sellotape