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Posts Tagged ‘Poetry’

 

Picture Courtesy: Sheikh Shakeel Ahsan (@ Jampur, District Rajanpur on 17th Aug, 2010)

They cried of drought and foreign hands

And now flood overflows their lands

As monsoon clouds vomit deadly rains

No school, no mosque, nothing remains

 

Some watch it drizzle against their glass

Some watch TV and ‘just’ cry alas!

As rivers over spilled into homes

Leaving behind  bodies, cries & foams

 

Thousands dead and millions roam

On streets in search of their homes!

Whilst apathetic ones still lay on bed

And talk of hows and whens like said:

 

“What will I save if I get drowned?

Should that day might come;

My car, my belongings or my golden crown

I have to save before I run”

 

As he dreamt of noah’s ark

Lights went off and it went dark

Water level began to rise

And he could not save his poor life!

 

Syed Ali Abbas Zaidi

Plastic Tearz | An Insight

The 2010 floods remain to be the biggest natural disaster in the history of Pakistan and in the recent history of the entire world. Lend a helping hand to the 20 million affected, as the same can happen with us. Let’s vow to help, light and fight.

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Re-posted from Coelho’s blog.

A true poet does not bother to be poetical. Nor does a nursery gardener scent his roses. An artist cannot speak about his art any more than a plant can discuss horticulture.

The extreme limit of wisdom, that’s what the public calls madness. The instinct of nearly all societies is to lock up anybody who is truly free. First, society begins by trying to beat you up. If this fails, they try to poison you. If this fails too, they finish by loading honors on your head.
The poet never asks for admiration; he wants to be believed.

Art produces ugly things which frequently become more beautiful with time. Fashion, on the other hand, produces beautiful things which always become ugly with time. Take a commonplace, clean it and polish it, light it so that it produces the same effect of youth and freshness and originality and spontaneity as it did originally, and you have done a poet’s job. The rest is literature.
When a work appears to be ahead of its time, it is only the time that is behind the work.

The actual tragedies of life bear no relation to one’s preconceived ideas. In the event, one is always bewildered by their simplicity, their grandeur of design, and by that element of the bizarre which seems inherent in them. Man seeks to escape himself in myth, and does so by any means at his disposal. Drugs, alcohol, or lies. Unable to withdraw into himself, he disguises himself. Lies and inaccuracy give him a few moments of comfort.

I am a lie who always speaks the truth.

 Jean Cocteau

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Her son was wrapped in flag today
The proud mother had her say:
What grace there is – to die in peace?
I raised a soldier true – Oh please!

 
Her tongue wagging but emotions dead
With images from news inside her head
Of blood, destruction and rape of mothers
As her country had invaded another
 
Countrymen hungry, sick and bare
Of basic needs – they do not care?
Just build an army and go to fight
What charm there is in peaceful night?
 
Heartless leaders had their reason
Talk of peace became act of treason
Bloodshed endorsed by religious minds
The holy war had made them blind
 
Their natural resources became their curse
For ‘our’ God, their sins grew worse
For this day of glory – we rehearsed
Arms, legs, heads – as cannons disburse
 
Those who heard their loved ones cry
Will hate this war – for it was a lie
There is no poetry in bloody shreds
Wait till you hear, ‘yours is dead’
 
War seldom has discount
As humans dead on humans mount
What patriots live and die in peace
Zaidi cut this crap – Oh please!
 
Syed Ali Abbas Zaidi
Plastic Tearz | An Insight.

Come and see the blood in the streets,
come and see
the blood in the streets,
come and see the blood
in the streets!
  

It’s shocking how humanity has progressed in science, philosophy and other fields but still yearns to learn the art of respecting each others right to live! Some people in the land of pure, on the lines of General Zia’s radicalization policies still propagate war and racism. Some even use it as a tool to define “patriotism”, forgetting “an eye for an eye will make everyone blind”. Forgetting that a war between two nuclear armed rivals, Pakistan and India could mean humanity may cease to exist in the Indo-Pak subcontinent. Further read ( The love of War )

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Amir Sulaiman

 
Amazing skill. Amir Sulaiman, I am a fan.
 
I am not angry; I am anger.
I am not dangerous; I am danger.
I am abominable stress, eliotic, relentless.
I’m a breath of vengeance.
I’m a death sentence.
I’m forsaking repentance,
to the beast in his hench men.

Armed forces and policemen
that survived off of oils and prisons until there cup runneth over with lost souls.
That wear over-sized caps like blind-folds
Shiny necklaces like lassoes
Draggin’ them into black-holes
And I may have to holla out to Fidel Castro
To get my other brothers outta Guantanimo

And the innocence on death row?
It’s probably in the same proportion to criminals in black robes
That smack gavels
That crack domes
That smack gavels
That smash homes

Justice is somewhere between reading sad poems and 40 oz of gasoline crashing through windows
It is between plans and action
It is between writing letters to congressmen and clocking the captain
It is between raising legal defense funds and putting a gun to the bailiff and taking the judge captive
It is between prayer and fasting
Between burning and blasting
Freedom is between the mind and the soul
Between the lock and the load
Between the zeal of the young and the patience of the old
Freedom is between a finger and the trigger
It is between the page and the pen
It is between the grenade and the pin
Between righteous and keeping one in the chamber

So what can they do with a cat with a heart like Turner
A mind like Douglass
A mouth like Malcolm
And a voice like Chris?!

That is why I am not dangerous; I am danger
I am not angry, I am anger
I am abominable, stress, Eliotic relentless
I’m a death sentence
For the beast and his henchmen
Politicians and big businessmen
I’m a teenage Palestinian
Opening fire at an Israeli checkpoint, point blank, check-mate, now what?!
I’m a rape victim with a gun cocked to his cock, cock BANG! Bangkok! Now what?!
I am sitting Bull with Colonel Custard’s scalp in my hands
I am Sincay with a slave trader’s blood on my hands
I am Jonathan Jackson and a gun to my man
I am David with a slingshot and a rock
And if David lived today, he’d have a Molotov cocktail and a Glock
So down with Goliath, I say down with Goliath

But we must learn, know, write, read
We must kick, bite, yell, scream
We must pray, fast, live, dream, fight, kill and die free!

 

 

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A Poetic Utterance of A Conspiracy Theorist.

Don’t believe the news
It’s all controlled by Jews;
And don’t wear those shoes
They spoil your sacred views?

This is all a propaganda
From Japan to Uganda
We never made mistakes
None of us was ever fake.

Wake up and don’t be weary
This isn’t another theory
I lost my wisdom tooth
They punched me for the truth

Don’t peep inside for faults
We are but sinless vaults
We are the soldiers of God
At us the angels nod

Our faith never shook
We memorized the holy book
Our ways are always right
We perform our religious rites

Zionists are on their way
To grasp their Muslim prey
Don’t correct yourself, just fight
You have the faith and might

At times I don’t have proof
But I know the truth, you goof
Their ways are void of reason
And I expose their subtle treason

They are bigger than you aspire
The very reason of worldly fire
But against me they can’t conspire
Because I am bigger then them, O Sire!

When my Lord had made the call
Iblis “conspired” to make him fall
Adam never committed the sin
The conspiracy brought him in!

And if Zaidi writes this song
To prove my fallacies wrong
He’s also one of them
A traitor not a friend..

– Syed Ali Abbas Zaidi – Plastic Tearz: An Insight. A Madman. A Wanderer

 

 

 

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Before you look in the mirror of my eyes
Dont pretend to smile, dont wear disguise
I cant see your soul, see the life you live
Only source of truth is the bit that you give

Am I talking to the tree or child behind?
The whirlpool of thoughts clutter my mind
I want to know the truth, all that you do
The things that you think, the “you” that is true

Are you looking for dogma to live like a cult
Or seeking the truth like a mystic adult
Are you looking to live, living to find
Freedom from cages that limit your mind?

 

Do I scare you? Frustrate you?

Intice you or irritate you?

Do I shake your concepts or weaken your trust
Do I call dust, ashes and ashes, dust?

Look in my eyes, what do you see ?
Reflection of you, with sincerity
Do you see a little of yourself in me ?
Now take off the mask, so we can be free

Call me unfaithful, call me a liar

Curse my existence, damn me to fire

But expose the real, “you” have tried to hide
It may resemble the “me” that lies inside..

 
– Syed Ali Abbas Zaidi
A wanderer, a mad man!
Sketch Courtesy: Visaal Hashmi

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Teray wajud key ahsas ku aamm kardoun ga
Kitab-e-zeest ka har warq aamm kardoun ga
Zau-e-aftaab-e-hiraas kab talaq asar dikhae ge
Abr-e-imaan ki chaon say shamm kardoun ga

Likhta rahoun ga wuhi ju tu dikhlae ga
Har lafz, har nuqta teray naam kardoun ga
Teray ishq-o-chahat key ghum key siva
Har ghum teray darbar may neelaam kardoun ga

Aur wuh ju sitar ku bait-e-shaitaan kehtay hain
Aaghaaz ku hi apna anjaam kehtay hain
Unki bay rung-o-sur mahfil-e-jehl mayn
Naghma-e-tauheed ka ahtemaam kadoun ga
Meray khuda may kuch aisa kaam kardoun ga
Key teri makhlouq may saqi ku amm kardoun ga

Teray wajud key ahsas ku aamm kardoun ga

– Syed Ali Abbas Zaidi

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