Days

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water in the glass
night with the stars

you came alone
with all your blemishes

behind the walls of your room
folded letters in hands

imaging a meeting
of our clouds

finishing line on lost roads
i found your black jacket

there were blue roses
roses of park

but, but they weren’t mine
time travel,

dewars in the glass
nights in the bar

again,

red eyes and weeping skies.

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The Living Creature

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the living human still hides in weald forest
he is struggling hard to find me somewhere

we share the same scars and dusty brown hair
he feels different about the existing love in the woods

in tranquillity i read his face to understand his sacrifice
and the lines he writes when we talk in emotions

but i think about him as a reflection of something
he is just like a wolf, that never performs in public

listen and fall slowly for what you believe
it’s the stars that will take you to the moon, he says

the sounds of sublime sunset makes us both emotional
and we create a world of fantasies far from the original

in a dream, i was a butterfly in the start with no wings
but he told me to fly without wings with hope in mind

the eyes made me to live once again in the present and
to wait for the voice shouting inside me that i must go on.

 

 

 

Visual Mind

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the shirt hanging in my room
describes a lot about my past

talking to the windows how
my universe will end one day

and the fresh honeyed moments
gone by the wind and left no choices

i took those painted hands with me
for a long talk to forget everything

i saw the growing sea coming near to me
it was telling me how drunk that night was

the shadows of widows kept me in dark
my whole body was penetrating

magic of whites turned the skin into red
finding the way out of here

imaging and seeing new lights in the corner
all the dreams transformed in a poem

call to the earth to again smell the nature
i saw how my beginnings were ended there.

“Why Do We Exist?”

‘why do we exist?’

we’re here not to exlpore or to live in one’s thoughts but we’re here to become espactics and give back to nature what we have taken from it. we’re here to study the realities of life. life has no purpose but it has meaning. still the question remains unanswered that why we are here and why do we exist?

it’s great mystery that life itself is an fanciful and imaginary place where your thoughts can take you anywhere and you can travel in your dreams as well. although scientists have failed to answer these questions about one’s existence.

we can’t find theories of everything based on the knowledge of others, but one should find the meaning of life. this big fat universe is changing every single day, but our lives remain the same, filled with the ordinary shades of emotions melancholy, numbness and exhilaration.

the answer to this universe is more complicated than our lives. it’s deeper then the blue vocal layers of the ocean. human mind is the most complex invention by god, because it never dies and it never stops working. there’s no moralistic approach to this, absolutely nothing.

death and freedom can tell you a lot about the existence of humans.
i believe we know nothing except how to study the matters.

we have always been told so much about life that it’s adventurous, it should be purposeful and one’s life should motivate others to live and hope for the future.
but they never taught us to think and to be in the process of thinking always.

these are some earthshaking and momentous questions which humans of all time are unable to answer, because the answers aren’t in numbers.

i think the reason why we are here is to grow and develop the skills of knowing everything but it’s an unknown perspective of mine which you can’t truly believe. but a human mind never dies, it actually leaves his soul to this world so that others can get the benefits as well.

how despairing is that, that you won’t be able to finish your amazing life story before you die.
everyone will pass on these stories.

Speak About It, Because it’s Real

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depression is real, whether you talk about it or not, it’s not gonna stop anyways. it’s not a made-up thing or is in person’s head, it’s real like a human body.

the kid you were laughing at is no more now, maybe it seems easy for you to joke about it because you never felt what’s happening inside you. the all young hippie teenagers didn’t want to end up there life like this but you triggered them saying ”it’s no big deal”. it’s as real as cancer, as real as your problems and as real as a disease.

it’s not a plain feeling, it paralyzes you, until it makes your body numb. never ask people why they are always sad or ineffectual or are always procrastinating plans, you never know the story. sit with them, share moments, take them to a place, do whatever that suits you but talk to them, and never ask why. they are constantly suffering from it alone, be their grief bench, let them sit on you, tell you all the things that haunts them, let you be the healing chair. provide them comfort.

the face might looks happy, but the storm has ended inside the soul. they see the colorless world, the sleeping time is not for sleep, dreams are nightmares, feelings are special. it silently kills the person suffering from it, and he is too tired to save himself this time, as it consumes all their energy. it’s inexplicable, don’t tell them to fight alone instead fight with them. help them, encourage them, and tell them that they are worthy of everything. take them to their home, that is themselves. be their shadow, bring life to them.

you’re someone who can make change in the world, you can change someone’s life just by doing little. it’s a daily battle, become a warrior because you have no choice. lift their sky.

My Little Lost Paradise

my little paradise is lost somewhere

maybe in the dusty mountains

or in your heavy singing eyes

the wind is coming near

near near and near to the sky

the inside seems empty

do i know the meaning of life?

or i want to live the life

i saw you there that evening

all blue, cold and high

like a dying little flower

the everything says he is nothing

and the nothing remains everything.

A Feminist Call

to the men who think that they can own any women,

some say she can’t do it, some are too petrified to say anything

women’s freedom is a topic of debate

whereas the men is allowed to party at 4 am

the hardwork isn’t considered hard because it was done without a men

they say to be silent when you suffer

words are nothing spoken from their mouth

don’t dream big otherwise you will fall

how you’re supposed to dream about space

be obsequious to everyone, it’s good for a women

how you can tell when you are not a women

don’t raise your voice, it will not be listened

a women’s head is nothing but filled with muck

what we know is that a men can’t stand against a strapping women

all those years we struggled not for our rights

but for the equality among human beings

don’t sing that old men song again and again

we will not sell our bodies to you

we will speak loud our rights to you

the women will not live in boundaries now

we will march in the streets without

the fear and trepidation

we are made of water and fire

our beauty will not define us

it’s a free world for all

why it can’t be one for us.

Rheumy Eyes

the rude rules set for our existence

how the sunlight coming from curtains

reflects your grumpy and cranky

mood
the purple dodecahedron shaped shoes

waiting for the drowsy feets

the sundays are spend with strangers

the forlorn hands bringing the shine

earth doesn’t forget the past

years and years what we dragged

the apartment carries the weight

where the rolling sea is singing

let us hear the sky squawking

the two names whenever are heard

the louder the whispers becomes of our room

what are those amaranth pink eyes signing

rheumy eyes handling the candle

the place looks like a dragon jungle

the school of dreams allowed you

when the dance attracted the audience

mouth wishes about the similar sound

silence is making waves in the ocean

i think a poem about you

it’s never good to write again.

Jaag Gayen Hum

yun tu har koi kashmir ki baat karta haai

magar yaha insaaf kon delata haai

tum band kardou apnay darwazey door sey

jaltey rahey gay yeh insaan aag sey

awaaz kab uthao gay zulim kay liye

sheher jalta dekhnay aayen thay kya

jannat ko chor deya yun he tum nay

ajj apni he zid par khafa kyun ho

kalaam uthatey ho tum tu likhao tu sahe

chalo azaadi tumhara haq he sahe

cheekh o pukar suntey nahin tum shayad

lagta haai dhundlaa par gaya haai aaina shayad

sootey ho tum shaan sey bistaar par

hum soola ayen hain ek aur kashmiri chatai par.

Yeh Shab-o-Roz Ka Tamasha

woh mehdi roz hathon sey mitti jaa rahe thi

teray muskuratey chehrey ki yaad phir aa rahe thi

hum masroof thay waadey nibah nay may

tum wafa kay sabaq parhti jaa rahe thi

saans layna seekh gayen thay sath rehtey rehtey

mout bhi bus ab chal kay aa rahe thi

khud ko nahin hum tumhen jane lagay thay

meri zindagi jaisey tum sey wabasta ho rahe thi

uss shaam jab tumhen khuwab may dekha

zehan may tumhari he tasveer banti jaa rahe thi

tanhai may khaton ko bar bar parh lagay thay hum

teray kalam sey nikalay lafzon ki awaaz aati jaa rahe thi

dil may yaadon ka tufan ubaharta jaa raha tha

aur samandar ki lehrey tera he naam ley rahe thi.

We All Remember The First Touch

remember the day we meet ourselves. the first touch, it felt like honey and cinnamon. the first time, we listened to our bodies. we allowed our hands to draw, mouth to breathe and legs to move. i experience a living crowd in myself. we were going far away. our face holded the smile like a mother holds her baby.
but all it was yesterday.