Posts Tagged ‘poetry’

Shayari – One Liners

Posted: November 30, 2017 in poetry
Tags: , , , ,
Log toot jate hai ek ghar banane mein
Tum taras nahi khate bastiyan jalane mein
Hamesha tinke hi chunte gujar gai apni
Magar chaman mein kahin aashiyan bana na sake
Doondta rahta hoon ae ‘Iqbal’ apne aap ko
Aap hi goya musafir, aap hi manjil hoon main
Teri dua se kaza to badal nahi sakti
Magar hai is se yeh mumkin ki tu badal jaye
Teri dua hai ki ho teri Aarzoo poori
Meri dua hai teri Aarzoo badle jaye.
Chadhte Sooraj ke pujari to lakhon hai ‘Faraz’
Doobte waqt humne sooraj ko bhi tanha dekha
—-
Zindgi to apne kadmo pe chalti hai ‘Faraz’
Auron ke sahare to janaze utha karte hain
Kaun pareshan hota hai tere gham se ‘Faraz’
Wo apni hi kisi baat pe roya hoga
Bahut ajeeb hai ye bandishein mohabbat ki ‘Faraz’
Na usne qaid mein rakha na hum faraar hue
—–
किताबों से दलील दूँ या खुद को सामने रख दूँ ‘फ़राज़’ ,
वो मुझ से पूछ बैठी है मोहब्बत किस को कहते हैं
Ye mumkin nahin ki sab log hi badal jate hai
Kuchh haalaat ke saanchon mein bhi dhal jate hai
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Hindi Poetry

Posted: April 25, 2015 in poetry
Tags: ,
Bhula saka na wo silsala jo tha hi nahin
Wo ek khayal jo awaz tak gaya hi nahin
Wo ek baat jo main kah nahin saka tumse
Wo ek rabt jo humme kabhi raha hi nahin
Mujhe  to yaad hai wo sab jo kabhi hua hi nahin.
—————————
Kyun darein zindagi mein kya hoga
Kuch na hoga to tajruba hoga

Hasti aankhon mein jhaank kar dekho
Koi aansoo kahiin chupa hoga

~ Javed Akhtar

———————

Urdu – Faiz Ahmed Faiz

Posted: April 25, 2015 in poetry
Tags: , ,
  1. Raaz-e-ulfat

    1. Raaz-e-ulfat chupa ke dekh liya
      Dil bahut kuch jalaa ke dekh liya
    2. Woh mere ho ke bhi mere na huwe
      Un ko apna bana ke dekh liya
    3. Aur kya dekhne ko baaki hai
      Aap se dil laga ke dekh liya
    4. Faiz, taqmeel-e-gham bhi ho na sake
      Ishk ko aazma ke dekh liya

      [Taqmeel means to complete. So taqmeel-e-gham means the end of my sorrows.]

    Abr aur sharaab

    1. Aaye kuch abr, kuch sharaab aaye
      Is ke baad aaye, jo azaab aaye.
    2. Kar raha tha gam-e-jahaaN ka hisaab
      Aaj tum yaad be-hisaab aaye.
    3. Faiz, thi raah sar-ba-sar manzil
      Hum jahaa pohche, kaamyaab aaye
  1. Ilzaam

    1. Hum par tumhaari chaah ka ilzaam hi to hai
      Dush-naam (abuse, insult) to nahi hai, yeh ikraam (respect) hi to hai.
    2. Karte hai jis pe ta’an, koi jurm to nahi
      Shauk-e-fazool-o-ulfat-e-nakaam hi to hai.
    3. Dil na-umeed to nahi, na-kaam hi to hai
      Lambi hai gham ki shaam, magar shaam hi to hai.
    4. Dast-e-falak mein, gardish-e-taqdeer to nahi
      Dast-e-falak mein, gardish-e-ayaam hi to hai.

    Dono jahaan har kar

    1. Dono jahaan teri mohabbat mein haar ke
      Woh jaa raha hai koi shab-e-gam guzaar ke.
    2. ViraaN hai maikadah kham-o-saagar udaas hai
      Tum kya gaye ke rooth gaye din bahaar ke.
    3. Ek fursat-e-gunaah mili, woh bhi chaar din
      Dekhe hai hum ne hoNsle parwar-digaar ke
    4. Dunya ne teri yaad se baigana kar diya
      Tujh se bhi dil-faraib hai gam-rozgaar ke.
    5. Bhoole se muskaraa to diye the woh aaj Faiz.
      Mat pooch val-vale (ecstasy) dil-e-na-kirdahkaar (useless) ke

      [Na-kirdakaar means something or someone that has no work to do. A good
      for nothing.]

    Aaj Phir Hareef-e-bahar

    1. Aaj phir hareef-e-bahar ho baithe
      Jaaney kis kis ko aaj ro baithey
    2. Thee, magar itni raigaan bhi na thi
      Aaj zindagi sey kuch kho baithey
    3. Na gayi teri be-rukhi, na gayi
      Hum teri aarzoo bhi kho baithey

Hindi Poetry

Posted: April 25, 2015 in poetry
Tags: , ,
Tum meri baate samajh paogi kaise, mai JAZBAAT likhta hu aur tum ALFAAZ padhte ho !!
—————————
मोहब्बत और मौत की पसंद तो देखो ,
एक को दिल चाहिए और दूसरे को धड़कन
————–
“कामयाब लोग ” अपने फेसले ” से दुनिया बदल देते हे
!! और
नाकामयाब लोग दुनिया के डर से “अपने फेसले ” बदल लेते हे !!”
————-

Good Poems – Part 2

Posted: April 25, 2015 in poetry
Tags: ,
“NOT AS HAPPY AS YOU”

Sometimes in life
We feel so blue;
But someone, somewhere
Is not as happy as you.

Somewhere far at the border
When a soldier sleeps,
Missing his loved ones
He silently weeps.

Somewhere a mother
Painfully sighs,
‘Cause her new born baby
Didn’t open her eyes.

Somewhere a poor dad
Silently cries,
When he sees his son begging
For a bowl of rice.

Somewhere in an orphanage
A little girl’s sad,
When she misses her
mom n dad.

So at times a reason to smile
U may not have any,
Say to yourself that
You’re happier than many.

Because

Life is beautiful and
Its not always blue,
And someone, somewhere
Is not as happy as you.

LOVE  LIFE!

The Invitation
By Oriah Mountain Dreamer
It doesn’t interest me what you do for a living.
I want to know what you ache for,
And if you dare to dream of meeting
Your heart’s longing.

It doesn’t interest me how old you are.
I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool
For love, for your dream,
For the adventure of being alive.

It doesn’t interest me what planets are squaring your moon.
I want to know if you have touched the center of your own sorrow,
If you have been opened by life’s betrayals,
Or have become shriveled and closed from fear of further pain.

I want to know if you can sit with pain,
Mine or your own,
Without moving
To hide it or fade it or fix it.

I want to know if you can be with joy,
Mine or your own,
If you can dance with wildness and let the ecstasy fill you to the tips of your fingers and toes
Without cautioning us to be careful, realistic, to remember the limitations of being human.

It doesn’t interest me if the story you are telling me is true.
I want to know if you can disappoint another to be true to yourself,
If you can bear the accusation of betrayal and not betray your own soul.
I want to know if you can be faithless and therefore be trustworthy.

I want to know if you can see beauty
Even when it is not pretty every day,
And if you can source your own life
From its presence.

I want to know if you can live with failure,
Yours and mine,
And still stand on the edge of a lake and shout to the silver of the full moon,
“Yes!”

It doesn’t interest me to know where you live or how much money you have.
I want to know if you can get up after the night of grief and despair,
Weary and bruised to the bone,
And do what needs to be done for the children.

It doesn’t interest me who you are, how you came to be here.
I want to know if you will stand
In the center of the fire with me
And not shrink back.

It doesn’t interest me where or what or with whom you have studied.
I want to know what sustains you
From the inside
When all else falls away.

I want to know if you can be alone
With yourself,
And if you truly like the company you keep
In the empty moments.

——————————————
Absorbed in this world, you’ve made it your burden.
Rise above this world. There is another vision.
All your life you’ve paid attention to your experiences, but never to your Self.
Are you searching for your Soul? Then come out of your prison.
Leave the stream and join the river that flows into the Ocean.
It will not lead you astray.
Let the beauty you seek be what you do.

Good Poems -Poetry

Posted: April 25, 2015 in poetry
Tags: ,
It might take a year,
It might take a day.
But what’s meant to be will,
always finds its way.
————
She Killed me thrice.

First, when she looked at me;
second, when she smiled.
And third when I saw…
Somebody else in her eyes.

————–
As a rule, man is a fool,
When it’s hot, he wants it cool;
When it’s cool, he wants it hot,
Always wanting what is not.
———–
Make the Ordinary Come Alive
Do not ask your children to strive for extra ordinary lives
While such striving might seem admirable
But its a way of foolishness.
Help them instead to find the wonder
And marvel of ordinary life
Show them the joy of tasting tomatoes apples and pears.
Show them how to cry when
People and pets die
Show them the infinite pleasure
Of the touch of a hand
And make the ordinary come alive for them
The extraordinary will take care of its self.
—————
Little bird flying in the sky, dropping shit into your eye,
You don’t worry, you don’t cry, just thank god that cows don’t fly.
—————————-
“There is a voice inside of you
That whispers all day long,
“I feel that this is right for me,
I know that this is wrong.”
No teacher, preacher, parent, friend
Or wise man can decide
What’s right for you– – just listen to
The voice that speaks inside.”
———————-
The Indispensable Man

Sometime when you’re feeling important;
Sometime when your ego ‘s in bloom;
Sometime when you take it for granted,
You’re the best qualified in the room:
Sometime when you feel that your going,
Would leave an unfillable hole,
Just follow these simple instructions,
And see how they humble your soul.

Take a bucket and fill it with water,
Put your hand in it up to the wrist,
Pull it out and the hole that’s remaining,
Is a measure of how much you’ll be missed.
You can splash all you wish when you enter,
You may stir up the water galore,
But stop, and you’ll find that in no time,
It looks quite the same as before.
The moral of this quaint example,
Is to do just the best that you can,
Be proud of yourself but remember,
There’s no indispensable man.

by saxon white kessinger

——————

A Psalm of Life

TELL me not, in mournful numbers,
Life is but an empty dream ! —
For the soul is dead that slumbers,
And things are not what they seem.

Life is real !   Life is earnest!
And the grave is not its goal ;
Dust thou art, to dust returnest,
Was not spoken of the soul.

Not enjoyment, and not sorrow,
Is our destined end or way ;
But to act, that each to-morrow
Find us farther than to-day.

Art is long, and Time is fleeting,
And our hearts, though stout and brave,
Still, like muffled drums, are beating
Funeral marches to the grave.

In the world’s broad field of battle,
In the bivouac of Life,
Be not like dumb, driven cattle !
Be a hero in the strife !

Trust no Future, howe’er pleasant !
Let the dead Past bury its dead !
Act,— act in the living Present !
Heart within, and God o’erhead !

Lives of great men all remind us
We can make our lives sublime,
And, departing, leave behind us
Footprints on the sands of time ;

Footprints, that perhaps another,
Sailing o’er life’s solemn main,
A forlorn and shipwrecked brother,
Seeing, shall take heart again.

Let us, then, be up and doing,
With a heart for any fate ;
Still achieving, still pursuing,
Learn to labor and to wait.

——————–
What
Do sad people have in
Common?
It seems
They have all built a shrine
To the past
And often go there
And do a strange wail and
Worship.
What is the beginning of
Happiness?
It is to stop being
So religious
Like That.
————————–

Charles Bukowoski – On Writing

Posted: April 25, 2015 in poetry
Tags: ,

So You Want To Be A Writer

~ Charles Bukowski

if it doesn’t come bursting out of you
in spite of everything,
don’t do it.
unless it comes unasked out of your
heart and your mind and your mouth
and your gut,
don’t do it.
if you have to sit for hours
staring at your computer screen
or hunched over your
typewriter
searching for words,
don’t do it.
if you’re doing it for money or
fame,
don’t do it.

if you’re doing it because you want
women in your bed,
don’t do it.
if you have to sit there and
rewrite it again and again,
don’t do it.
if it’s hard work just thinking about doing it,
don’t do it.
if you’re trying to write like somebody
else,
forget about it.
if you have to wait for it to roar out of
you,
then wait patiently.
if it never does roar out of you,
do something else.

if you first have to read it to your wife
or your girlfriend or your boyfriend
or your parents or to anybody at all,
you’re not ready.

don’t be like so many writers,
don’t be like so many thousands of
people who call themselves writers,
don’t be dull and boring and
pretentious, don’t be consumed with self-
love.
the libraries of the world have
yawned themselves to
sleep
over your kind.
don’t add to that.
don’t do it.
unless it comes out of
your soul like a rocket,
unless being still would
drive you to madness or
suicide or murder,
don’t do it.
unless the sun inside you is
burning your gut,
don’t do it.

when it is truly time,
and if you have been chosen,
it will do it by
itself and it will keep on doing it
until you die or it dies in you.

there is no other way.

and there never was.

~Charles