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"lahore" poems
So aged he is, but still so zealous for his job. It feels like he has only known his rickshaw. The ancient bard in him tells Punjabi poems. He belies his wrinkles as he pedals his ride. Just putting to shame his fellow rickshaw pullers. None remembers or even cares to know his name. He just pedals and remembers his deceased wife. He told me a Punjabi tale of partition... *"We were really happy when it happened, I was 16 and married to my beautiful wife, But then he pressed for a separate Pakistan, Just so much wicked was this demand of his, Punjab was alight due to some people's doing, We were to cross river Ravi en route to Amritsar, In Lahore my childhood home was burnt to ashes, My beautiful wife was still so young at that time, She was ***** on the banks of river Ravi & killed, In no cloth was she draped as they burnt her body, After pouring whiskey all over her lifeless body."* His voice broke and a stream of tears escaped, Down his eyes they flowed like the river Ravi, *"In front of my two eyes the men had ***** her, Her mistake? Looking at them once & smiling, Sin as great to be punished by such brutal drab? What God, Ishwar or Allah did they follow? I have known all & none advocates **** To which parents could they born? Must be the devil & the witch."* By now his nose was red and his sobs audible. He said, *"She was not just ***** she was also killed,"* The ancient rickshaw puller gasped for breath as he said, "Would the high heavens thank them for killing my wife, She was a Hindu and an idolater with my mangalsootra, Why they spared my life I have no idea but just remorse, Will their Allah or God spare them on Doomsday?" ==============
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Mar 20, 2015
Mar 20, 2015 at 6:15 AM UTC
The Sad Ancient Rickshaw Puller
So aged he is, but still so zealous for his job. It feels like he has only known his rickshaw. The ancient bard in him tells Punjabi poems. He belies his wrinkles as he pedals his ride. Just putting to shame his fellow rickshaw pullers. None remembers or even cares to know his name. He just pedals and remembers his deceased wife. He told me a Punjabi tale of partition... *"We were really happy when it happened, I was 16 and married to my beautiful wife, But then he pressed for a separate Pakistan, Just so much wicked was this demand of his, Punjab was alight due to some people's doing, We were to cross river Ravi en route to Amritsar, In Lahore my childhood home was burnt to ashes, My beautiful wife was still so young at that time, She was ***** on the banks of river Ravi & killed, In no cloth was she draped as they burnt her body, After pouring whiskey all over her lifeless body."* His voice broke and a stream of tears escaped, Down his eyes they flowed like the river Ravi, *"In front of my two eyes the men had ***** her, Her mistake? Looking at them once & smiling, Sin as great to be punished by such brutal drab? What God, Ishwar or Allah did they follow? I have known all & none advocates **** To which parents could they born? Must be the devil & the witch."* By now his nose was red and his sobs audible. He said, *"She was not just ***** she was also killed,"* The ancient rickshaw puller gasped for breath as he said, "Would the high heavens thank them for killing my wife, She was a Hindu and an idolater with my mangalsootra, Why they spared my life I have no idea but just remorse, Will their Allah or God spare them on Doomsday?" ==============
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Rose, Sunflower, and Lily decided to get in a war train, A sunflower was fearless and believes’ she can turn this journey into peace, Rose was afraid to see everything red like her skin, But a lily carries just pray with her fragrance, A journey begins from Lahore, People were rushed to get in the war train, Lily asks Rose, Why they are in War train? Rose says; I don’t know? Lily was afraid, She felt’ that her presence won’t change anything, This train was on its way to Delhi, Delhi, where people are already in a War train, And Lahore to Delhi start believing that war is a solution, But’ Solution of what? The solution to destroy every rose, sunflower, and lily, The solution to making every drop of water as poisoned, The desire to see bloodshed, The desire to stop playing children's in the parks, The desire to not let grow a single crop in the soil of mother earth, The desire to war for sake of war, A solution comes from the songs of peace, From the chances to let grow the roses, sunflowers, and lilies, Swords, Bombs, Bullets, Jet planes and Nuke are not the solutions, They are the end of all hope, Hope to live in a love with a rose, Hope to start a morning with a sunflower, Hope to sleep with the pray as a beautiful lily, But the question is who will stop this war train? Many stations pass, But none care to stop the war train, And people of both side, Just closed their eyes and souls for nothing but for War, They did not care; this war train is carrying the message of End, But Rose, Sunflower, and Lily now knows, this is not their fault of believing, It’s a fault of war train frenzy, If this train won’t stop here then each glimpse of life will be gone forever and ever! By; Nida Mahmoed.
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Mar 1, 2019
Mar 1, 2019 at 11:53 AM UTC
The War Train
Rose, Sunflower, and Lily decided to get in a war train, A sunflower was fearless and believes’ she can turn this journey into peace, Rose was afraid to see everything red like her skin, But a lily carries just pray with her fragrance, A journey begins from Lahore, People were rushed to get in the war train, Lily asks Rose, Why they are in War train? Rose says; I don’t know? Lily was afraid, She felt’ that her presence won’t change anything, This train was on its way to Delhi, Delhi, where people are already in a War train, And Lahore to Delhi start believing that war is a solution, But’ Solution of what? The solution to destroy every rose, sunflower, and lily, The solution to making every drop of water as poisoned, The desire to see bloodshed, The desire to stop playing children's in the parks, The desire to not let grow a single crop in the soil of mother earth, The desire to war for sake of war, A solution comes from the songs of peace, From the chances to let grow the roses, sunflowers, and lilies, Swords, Bombs, Bullets, Jet planes and Nuke are not the solutions, They are the end of all hope, Hope to live in a love with a rose, Hope to start a morning with a sunflower, Hope to sleep with the pray as a beautiful lily, But the question is who will stop this war train? Many stations pass, But none care to stop the war train, And people of both side, Just closed their eyes and souls for nothing but for War, They did not care; this war train is carrying the message of End, But Rose, Sunflower, and Lily now knows, this is not their fault of believing, It’s a fault of war train frenzy, If this train won’t stop here then each glimpse of life will be gone forever and ever! By; Nida Mahmoed.
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Meeting new culture, new nation, Feelings and thoughts behind imagination. Country with peace and hope, With friends we can cope. The captain of Pia 785 flight, Believes in God as a light, I Was sitting in a window seat, I came for a friend that I can't quit. I saw eyes with care and peace, That nobody can't miss, People with noble heart you can see, Country with respect for you and me. Pakistan touch my poetic soul that shines, We learn with so many different minds, Lahore has so many treasures to see, Like a bird I'm free... To all my global friends. Warmest Regards, Victor Marques
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Aug 1, 2010
Aug 1, 2010 at 9:32 AM UTC
Pakistan Nation....Victor Marques
You have friends in the same war, That you have never met before. The world isn't the same anymore, I came to Pakistan, to Lahore... People playing everywhere, Clouds in the air, I looked for smiles and faces, I found laces... People like the Queen, Simplicity that I Have never seen, Windows open in Pakistan light, I wish prosperity in their site. Humanity is all about love, God is looking for you, The sky is above, What can I do? Warmest regards. Victor Marques
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Aug 1, 2010
Aug 1, 2010 at 9:20 AM UTC
Im In Lahore... Pakistan
The Condition of My Heart by Munir Niazi loose translation by Michael R. Burch There's no need for anyone else to get excited: The condition of my heart is not the condition of hers. But were we to receive any sort of good news, Munir, How spectacular compared to earth's mundane sunsets! Mystery by Munir Niazi loose translation by Michael R. Burch She was a mystery: Her lips were parched ... but her eyes were two unfathomable oceans. I continued delaying ... by Munir Niazi loose translation by Michael R. Burch I continued delaying ... the words I should speak the promises I should keep the one I should dial despite her cruel denial I continued delaying ... the shoulder I must offer the hand I must proffer the untraveled lanes we may not see again I continued delaying ... long strolls through the seasons for my own selfish reasons the remembrances of lovers to erase thoughts of others I continued delaying ... to save someone dear from eternities unclear to make her aware of our reality here I continued delaying ... Keywords/Tags: Munir Niazi, Urdu, Punjabi, translation, Pakistan, Lahore, love, love hurts, heart, heartbreak, condition, mystery, pashto, relationship, delay, delays, delaying, mrburdu
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May 4, 2020
May 4, 2020 at 2:57 AM UTC
Munir Niazi translations
kitchen counter riddled in grey marble a fragrance of burning wood and candy solar blessings filtered into linear lines fruits spread in an ikebana rainbow a jar of sickly saccharine sugar atop a syrupy taste lingers in that air i long to breathe it in once more that sweet air of my grandma's house from all these 11,285 kilometres away from home and ten years from those first moments of life
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Dec 4, 2024
Dec 4, 2024 at 12:38 PM UTC
lahore jubilee of 2014
Those who are deceased, Leave this world in peace, Well some at least, Tears of abhor shed down the eyes of the families, For those terrorists who come in vengeance, I wonder for what? Wouldn't it be great if only there was tranquility worldwide, Or in fact leaders who mobilize attacks against these savages, I pity our lives and souls of those who don't cry, How hard can it be to realize, That taking away lives is so low, Please God ! Help these people deviate from wrong to right.
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Mar 28, 2016
Mar 28, 2016 at 11:12 AM UTC
In memory of the Lahore attack.
Turning a key and in turn turning free all the thoughts that then fly, they could flee but then thoughts that fly free have no need to flee or am I missing something? Bring me my ideas in a box filled with sand and I'll show you castles built not with the hand but the mind and then hand me the key to let all thoughts run free, hand me the sea in a sieve and I'll give you gemstones. Backpedal. See how we're home free with the domes of Damascus that would stop men to ask us, how do they do that? we answer them using Aramaic, using ancient and archaic chants planting seeds before the harvest. Beating chests and tearing hair and where the answers lie for us in the old markets of Lahore we wore stripes on our bedrolls and tore strips from our skin, we didn't win that one and that's for the best. And Beau Geste in the legion somewhere in the region of a beach, out of sight out of reach and he wasn't real really just someone's idea of an ideal and we fell for it. Turn me another brother, turn me a key, spin me the wheel and let the numbers fall free. We all see in the end as the beginning starts to wend its way wearily home and for some the end is another key to set free all the beginnings we knew and could never see.
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Jun 24, 2015
Jun 24, 2015 at 5:55 PM UTC
16 tumblers
They build and call them tower blocks , they're concrete rockets to entomb us then they'll blast us into space. This race is no race for old men. And when we're our there gravitating towards the dying sun they'll have us playing parlour games, gee whizz oh lord what fun. But we're catching on to their games and the things they're going to do, you'll get older one day it's time for you to catch on too. They're building seismic sidewalks that tremble when you talk They're building hell out in Lahore hell that's been done before. They're spending billions on defence while a million people starve there's meat upon the table, but there's no one left to carve. Unfinished
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May 9, 2016
May 9, 2016 at 9:50 AM UTC
Weird takes on the architects
If I sit here and savour the minute if I hear a pin drop in Lahore does it make life sublime if I'm wasting my time could there possibly be anything more? why do larks rise each morning to drown me If I swim will they all fly away in the songs that they sing is it hope that they bring do they move on the wing just to sing in the morn were they there on the day of the day I was born' as the pin drops the penny engages in the history of questions I've asked and the reels start to spin picking out every pin and the moments I see question will I ever be what becomes of the lark when it's cold and it's dark does each song hibernate does it wait for a time when I'm sitting and savouring a moment of mine? If I knew I could say if I was when today I feel fine.
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Jul 4, 2016
Jul 4, 2016 at 6:35 AM UTC
A touch of Gilbert.
Made in your face Or drawn over a thin White lie I mean line Made out of paper You posted it Didn't you Who are you Where do you live Inside a crib You once slept in No home goes unnoticed To us kinds We live in imagination BEyOND the bright fillip stars Where comfort and knowing are We live to follow you And quarter just for a go about What you imagine life really is It's you It's all inside of you Your soul stretched a thousand lands Before finding you And reaching into Your afterlife care It sput out ashes upon Your bed And told you Please do not take These off your sheets One day you will kneel I'm what yiure now doing Only to look up To a brighter pool Of hopefully zooms of light Inhabited by mother And father time Just joking they don't exist here Here is parallel to any know being Where the fish comb Through your vessels And hats race thru your mind And hurddles of black sea Trunks of ancient old trees Soon devour Fastly Intrigued By YOU Little I'm Nobody pays attention to me you We,are interested in you But why? I don't like the attention Please don't look at me It makes me really Creepy and weird And mad and rages Like scavengers eating At my brain Please,see it a different way You are us We birthed you from the Stars We love your light We never hate You When you feel Low or have a hard time We encourage you in Whispers light Through this species I found your aunt Delilah and uncle Sam aha I thoubut so They are mine And the dark ones I carry like backpacks Of rocks Never to lift With each,thought Erasing won't,help They've already Bought space In my mind And they live in my bed And eat,the ashes Before I have tome, To descend into the sky Upside down they have Me Curling my toes Where,the duck are,my toes anyway It's man eats shot all day Kind of love,that they celebrate To my disguise You,can eat cake and raindrops Will soon taste like healing And your insationable appetite For life,will soon Turn on Is it perspective Can or do I still have you've,them For morning noon and night Or can I take a flight Or lay down a Lahore the help do I get rid of them all Well never tell That's where you'll Find us That's where we dwell In the back of my mind Enter stage right Exit night Enter light Take,my hand OFF TO NEVER NEVER LAND Perspective is everything!!
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Jan 2, 2020
Jan 2, 2020 at 9:58 PM UTC
Impressions
Made in your face Or drawn over a thin White lie I mean line Made out of paper You posted it Didn't you Who are you Where do you live Inside a crib You once slept in No home goes unnoticed To us kinds We live in imagination BEyOND the bright fillip stars Where comfort and knowing are We live to follow you And quarter just for a go about What you imagine life really is It's you It's all inside of you Your soul stretched a thousand lands Before finding you And reaching into Your afterlife care It sput out ashes upon Your bed And told you Please do not take These off your sheets One day you will kneel I'm what yiure now doing Only to look up To a brighter pool Of hopefully zooms of light Inhabited by mother And father time Just joking they don't exist here Here is parallel to any know being Where the fish comb Through your vessels And hats race thru your mind And hurddles of black sea Trunks of ancient old trees Soon devour Fastly Intrigued By YOU Little I'm Nobody pays attention to me you We,are interested in you But why? I don't like the attention Please don't look at me It makes me really Creepy and weird And mad and rages Like scavengers eating At my brain Please,see it a different way You are us We birthed you from the Stars We love your light We never hate You When you feel Low or have a hard time We encourage you in Whispers light Through this species I found your aunt Delilah and uncle Sam aha I thoubut so They are mine And the dark ones I carry like backpacks Of rocks Never to lift With each,thought Erasing won't,help They've already Bought space In my mind And they live in my bed And eat,the ashes Before I have tome, To descend into the sky Upside down they have Me Curling my toes Where,the duck are,my toes anyway It's man eats shot all day Kind of love,that they celebrate To my disguise You,can eat cake and raindrops Will soon taste like healing And your insationable appetite For life,will soon Turn on Is it perspective Can or do I still have you've,them For morning noon and night Or can I take a flight Or lay down a Lahore the help do I get rid of them all Well never tell That's where you'll Find us That's where we dwell In the back of my mind Enter stage right Exit night Enter light Take,my hand OFF TO NEVER NEVER LAND Perspective is everything!!
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