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"tahir" poems
"O GOD ! only hand--- only leg bleeding, hanging to the chopped body --o god !?!" enough ! to discharge the debt of the soil. "o god! these little babies who are supposed to be the metaphor of passion, are forced to be the product of flesh trade ! these tender hands , supposed to paint the alphabets are made to clean the riffles ! o god ! they are eating mud-- they are drinking the ***** of animals...." yes! the survival is important to break the shackles of this soil. "O GOD ! O GOD ! O GOD ! O G>>" no !. no!. sympathy? charity ? i am not the beggar ! do not come on the wings of eagle holding the dove. if you have a human soul.. demand those who are shedding crocodile tears. i demand the answer , not the bread of consolation. do the sons of my soil robbed these big-brothers at any time? tell them not to declare the renegades as the protectors of my land. **** **** ***** **** **** **** **** tigris and euphrates, ganga and godavari amazan, dandakaranya somalia, rhodesia---- red with blood santiyago, madrid, -- echoing tahir square, beijing, brasilia... burning-- **** **** **** **** **** **** **** **** i may be falling down-- but i will rise ... o big brother... you are not god you can declare yourself as jesus i am the child of spartucus "o god ! are you a terrorist? are you a revolutionary?" ha ha ha--- let it be. now , the deserts having oil in lap the forests having minerals in heart the voices demanding the natural justice are these the shelters of terrorists.. revolutionaries ? let it be! i am a revolutionary........ to discharge the debt of my soil !!
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Nov 27, 2014
Nov 27, 2014 at 10:15 AM UTC
REVOLUTIONARY !!!
"O GOD ! only hand--- only leg bleeding, hanging to the chopped body --o god !?!" enough ! to discharge the debt of the soil. "o god! these little babies who are supposed to be the metaphor of passion, are forced to be the product of flesh trade ! these tender hands , supposed to paint the alphabets are made to clean the riffles ! o god ! they are eating mud-- they are drinking the ***** of animals...." yes! the survival is important to break the shackles of this soil. "O GOD ! O GOD ! O GOD ! O G>>" no !. no!. sympathy? charity ? i am not the beggar ! do not come on the wings of eagle holding the dove. if you have a human soul.. demand those who are shedding crocodile tears. i demand the answer , not the bread of consolation. do the sons of my soil robbed these big-brothers at any time? tell them not to declare the renegades as the protectors of my land. **** **** ***** **** **** **** **** tigris and euphrates, ganga and godavari amazan, dandakaranya somalia, rhodesia---- red with blood santiyago, madrid, -- echoing tahir square, beijing, brasilia... burning-- **** **** **** **** **** **** **** **** i may be falling down-- but i will rise ... o big brother... you are not god you can declare yourself as jesus i am the child of spartucus "o god ! are you a terrorist? are you a revolutionary?" ha ha ha--- let it be. now , the deserts having oil in lap the forests having minerals in heart the voices demanding the natural justice are these the shelters of terrorists.. revolutionaries ? let it be! i am a revolutionary........ to discharge the debt of my soil !!
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41
Have you ever heard in your mind the sounds that silence makes the silence that spreads like music as in splendor a dewy morning breaks silence that clings to a Florentine fog as lone cyclist a cobble street snakes the silence that hangs heavy after a heavy down pour finally ends or await with it for the moment when heaven its pearly reward sends they sound so different and surreal like life’s ethereal myriad bends the silence that weighty dwells in wisps, rises from vacant eyes the silence that fills to the brim dole, of a beggar’s ripping sighs silence that hangs like a sword on fears of unsaid distant byes silence o endless tormenting silence you play on a piano’s dusty keys from a chair that rocks in howling wind on a lifeless verandah, distant sees from a score of such like mends wherefrom one has drunk to ones lees it speaks no man’s earthly breath yet heard in shattering numbness in ache and blight so steeped in rustle of a long gone worn dress in raucous merry gay proceeds or the mirth of a child’s bless in the time of a frisky bloomy day or gnaw of a long starry night the lullaby of distant streaking trains or the gondola’s reflective sight the cavort of journeys done together Echoes the hush of a soundless blight original saadat tahir 22nd July, 2k13 Islamabad.
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Jul 22, 2013
Jul 22, 2013 at 11:59 AM UTC
Sounds of Silence ... 2207-2k13
My name is Rajabu Al Islam, an African Muslim Born in Africa, Black Muslim not Arabic, I am now in the solemn city of Mombasa, Standing on the pinnacle of Tahir Sheikh Towers, Looking at the land of Likoni and Motonkwe Beyond the deep blue arm of Indian Ocean, Behold the Muslim terrorists, lynch fierce terror On the innocent human beings, in ramshackled church, They are shooting women and young children, The pastor at the dais, wielding the Bible, Also succumbs to a bullet in his ***** capacity, The church choir master has also dropped dead And the rest of all humanity in the church Have no where to take cover from terrorist, As Moslem terrorist ********* bullets on them, Poor humanity wail in the agony of death From the injurious bullets, of AK 47, Auma Otieno drops dead her son Osinya falling away, Osinya is not dead, but a slug stuck in his skull, In glorification of Al shabab the Islamic terror wing, Baby osinya is young boy of six months, Without selfish   piety of Middle East in chest, When you shoot him, is it n’t it super terrorism! To shoot a child of six months in the head In pursuit of your religious ecstasy? Who said that Islam is the way of Godliness? He was a beautiful cheat full of brawnish frivolities, Islam is total darkness, as its overt organs are ; Al gaeda, Al shabab and Boko Haram. I hate Islam for its ***** reasonless ignorance I hate it with my full passion and my entirety, Indeed I am prepared to die in stern defense Of my antipathy for Islam; a piety so uncouth When I recall, the Twin towers of America, West Gate of Kenya, American embassy in Kenya, And the stubborn Boko Haram, that condemned human life Foolishly in the north of Nigeria to be foul divinity.
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Mar 25, 2014
Mar 25, 2014 at 10:59 AM UTC
ANTIPATHY FOR ISLAM
My name is Rajabu Al Islam, an African Muslim Born in Africa, Black Muslim not Arabic, I am now in the solemn city of Mombasa, Standing on the pinnacle of Tahir Sheikh Towers, Looking at the land of Likoni and Motonkwe Beyond the deep blue arm of Indian Ocean, Behold the Muslim terrorists, lynch fierce terror On the innocent human beings, in ramshackled church, They are shooting women and young children, The pastor at the dais, wielding the Bible, Also succumbs to a bullet in his ***** capacity, The church choir master has also dropped dead And the rest of all humanity in the church Have no where to take cover from terrorist, As Moslem terrorist ********* bullets on them, Poor humanity wail in the agony of death From the injurious bullets, of AK 47, Auma Otieno drops dead her son Osinya falling away, Osinya is not dead, but a slug stuck in his skull, In glorification of Al shabab the Islamic terror wing, Baby osinya is young boy of six months, Without selfish   piety of Middle East in chest, When you shoot him, is it n’t it super terrorism! To shoot a child of six months in the head In pursuit of your religious ecstasy? Who said that Islam is the way of Godliness? He was a beautiful cheat full of brawnish frivolities, Islam is total darkness, as its overt organs are ; Al gaeda, Al shabab and Boko Haram. I hate Islam for its ***** reasonless ignorance I hate it with my full passion and my entirety, Indeed I am prepared to die in stern defense Of my antipathy for Islam; a piety so uncouth When I recall, the Twin towers of America, West Gate of Kenya, American embassy in Kenya, And the stubborn Boko Haram, that condemned human life Foolishly in the north of Nigeria to be foul divinity.
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37
d'harga'h! urn! and sung clemency with the sign of the cross - Mr. Longinus - a baptism awaits... in the Turkish shop buying my beers - politics talk, gone Razza - Tahir - talk of politics - deciphered a word: Erdoğan (Erdoghan, Edrogrzan, what was it - macabre radish to taste - niechmaj sto Vlad'a reka na tle kiwnieniem  raz! i krok poza 'sztem! bogiem byka wybryk szto?! - the crowds descended, and the kestrels and the pigeons, and the swans, and the migratory storks, and the seagulls - for the Winged-Hussar Polonaise. fluff of the wings -                                    the Mongol stench reinterpreted - i rather be picking ethnic mushrooms - kropki polka - and koniewki - łopieniek & canary - grünling in German, gąska zielonka - Pan Kleks - or Chanterelle Mushroom - pepper shakerz - kurki, tzn. te słynne grzyby. the deviating kurka - or chickpea foetal variant of fungus - or alias chick. each time they pithy my assertion to claim the ethnic brothel of Europe that Poland is for the noble families - each time they undermine the worker testifying the fuck-worthy **** prior sleep - pride settles in - and a long forgotten assertive builds up to architectural proportions - it just ends up being a game of throwing copper coins into Scotland, potatoes into Ireland... and dinosaur bones into Wales... and post-colonial subjects into England, lazily packed with the labels **** and Hindu; Karzimierz Dębski could have said: it was never supposed to come to this; shame that it did; the safety option was exacted.
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Jul 18, 2016
Jul 18, 2016 at 10:59 PM UTC
Winged-Hussar Polonaise / Dutch spits at a Polish girl's face - apparently i'm speaking Czech when angry
d'harga'h! urn! and sung clemency with the sign of the cross - Mr. Longinus - a baptism awaits... in the Turkish shop buying my beers - politics talk, gone Razza - Tahir - talk of politics - deciphered a word: Erdoğan (Erdoghan, Edrogrzan, what was it - macabre radish to taste - niechmaj sto Vlad'a reka na tle kiwnieniem  raz! i krok poza 'sztem! bogiem byka wybryk szto?! - the crowds descended, and the kestrels and the pigeons, and the swans, and the migratory storks, and the seagulls - for the Winged-Hussar Polonaise. fluff of the wings -                                    the Mongol stench reinterpreted - i rather be picking ethnic mushrooms - kropki polka - and koniewki - łopieniek & canary - grünling in German, gąska zielonka - Pan Kleks - or Chanterelle Mushroom - pepper shakerz - kurki, tzn. te słynne grzyby. the deviating kurka - or chickpea foetal variant of fungus - or alias chick. each time they pithy my assertion to claim the ethnic brothel of Europe that Poland is for the noble families - each time they undermine the worker testifying the fuck-worthy **** prior sleep - pride settles in - and a long forgotten assertive builds up to architectural proportions - it just ends up being a game of throwing copper coins into Scotland, potatoes into Ireland... and dinosaur bones into Wales... and post-colonial subjects into England, lazily packed with the labels **** and Hindu; Karzimierz Dębski could have said: it was never supposed to come to this; shame that it did; the safety option was exacted.
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37
My heart pulsates in my throat untamed like dark voodoo drums within the drums roll tears fearing words that are yet to come it’s been just a moment, just a trice that I, hope filled, just found you my searches in the raves had given me an answer in you Scarce had my eyes feasted scant to my heart’s fill if at all, a look in your doe eyes hardly the expression of my sighs a bit had I heard those chimes not at all in them hid the signs The shine off your rosy cheek language that your eyes speak The curls of your auburn hair flick of them, sans a care flutter of thy lashes and their storm Supple the lure of full arms the yearn in their heavenly charms swaying slowly as you walk a rage for the town to carry on talk you speak not those words twitter for my ears, of loving birds I shudder in pain and consuming loss woe begone, beset, I toss loss of a lifetime, in a frame reset you say you are helpless, weak whence shall I fetch for you a winners streak. O love! Walk up bold to the deserting train in the deluge of love nothing is sane walk and you shall not walk in vain Blow away the haunting shadow of pain or slowly step aside and let it chug off to let them laugh who had their scoff don’t throw away a beautiful life and buy us both a lonely strife original saadat tahir 12th Jun, 2k13 Islamabad.
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Jun 12, 2013
Jun 12, 2013 at 11:45 AM UTC
To the deserting train ... 1006-2k13
Church companies are not just havens of ****** harassment. Husband and wife are young and dark; Listen to the most vulnerable words of women and women who think that you are still alive on earth: in life a boy must remain firm in the plant but it is coming out and can learn from those who are in the same place, interesting, because one can use these, where time will be simultaneously from all parts of the world. But the problem is not in Rs. Bixet S / P is great, but it's a big problem to solve the problem. Robert Santoro asked, "right" and false, and that fire consumed the status of church rights and even death. Women on earth, properly, boys, is what the girl gives you advice on. This is for war; national power and because it is not a high school visitor. terrorists can be found disguised as students. But the problem is that they are Rs. Bixet S / P is bigger but the problem is a big problem. Robert Santoro asked, "Okay," no matter what. Benin and Dale 100 2000, controlled by "Word" and "personal experience", await the disease. "First, you can enter Balloon style, which is a mistake to think that this is a good idea, thought 1, not a technical and technical list." In the future, Tahir-ul-Islam and around the world, it is clear that Robert and Dale (2000 AD) are "really" here. When Plato and most of the articles in this article are available in English it is true that Atopagita is a test and the purpose seems to be true and the fact is that education c.2000 'Benin and Dale 100 2000' is so 'Normal' no one knows "or" or "other ," where customers know how much "good" and "large" controls are really c.2000 "if" we cannot tell what happened: "I do not know" and "I do not know" and "I do not know what to do." Among the views and ideas of Paul "has been divided" and "New" officials in New Zealand. "The Cambridge Institute, three players in a good game, is not true, but it is really a problem of liquor IS / P "death, the pain of the body, in death, is the greatest pain." There is so much in the world, that is, the true color of universal conservation, but the question is, the Bixet S / P is a big problem with a big problem in the preparation, saying "good" and that they reach the sky will probably have a closer relationship with the church normally and with death of 1; The woman, or on the other hand, her mother.
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Oct 30, 2018
Oct 30, 2018 at 5:29 AM UTC
The Future Dialogues of Futuron: Cambridge Institute
Church companies are not just havens of ****** harassment. Husband and wife are young and dark; Listen to the most vulnerable words of women and women who think that you are still alive on earth: in life a boy must remain firm in the plant but it is coming out and can learn from those who are in the same place, interesting, because one can use these, where time will be simultaneously from all parts of the world. But the problem is not in Rs. Bixet S / P is great, but it's a big problem to solve the problem. Robert Santoro asked, "right" and false, and that fire consumed the status of church rights and even death. Women on earth, properly, boys, is what the girl gives you advice on. This is for war; national power and because it is not a high school visitor. terrorists can be found disguised as students. But the problem is that they are Rs. Bixet S / P is bigger but the problem is a big problem. Robert Santoro asked, "Okay," no matter what. Benin and Dale 100 2000, controlled by "Word" and "personal experience", await the disease. "First, you can enter Balloon style, which is a mistake to think that this is a good idea, thought 1, not a technical and technical list." In the future, Tahir-ul-Islam and around the world, it is clear that Robert and Dale (2000 AD) are "really" here. When Plato and most of the articles in this article are available in English it is true that Atopagita is a test and the purpose seems to be true and the fact is that education c.2000 'Benin and Dale 100 2000' is so 'Normal' no one knows "or" or "other ," where customers know how much "good" and "large" controls are really c.2000 "if" we cannot tell what happened: "I do not know" and "I do not know" and "I do not know what to do." Among the views and ideas of Paul "has been divided" and "New" officials in New Zealand. "The Cambridge Institute, three players in a good game, is not true, but it is really a problem of liquor IS / P "death, the pain of the body, in death, is the greatest pain." There is so much in the world, that is, the true color of universal conservation, but the question is, the Bixet S / P is a big problem with a big problem in the preparation, saying "good" and that they reach the sky will probably have a closer relationship with the church normally and with death of 1; The woman, or on the other hand, her mother.
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