umarr_amin

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literature student #Kashmiri 2nd may

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  • umarr_amin 34w

    Thy colour may fade away, beauty will not
    For autumn leaves wither, tuber it kill not

    This Nile of pain will drown you along
    For vain on shores my water dill not

    I'll shed every bead of my eye rosary
    Till my exculpation is etched on every prill not

    Mayhem, this Mayhem,this too shall pass
    As hawk forever hovers on hill not
    ©umarr_amin

  • umarr_amin 35w

    These moments on our hems are on lease
    Clinch their hand 'O' vernal breeze,
    Tell 'em to smell aroma tulips waft
    Ere, scathy Sun bruise it's petals bis with old craft.
    ©umarr_amin

  • umarr_amin 43w

    It doesn't take
    Nerves of steel
    Insight of sage
    Herculean courage
    Or
    Alexandrian zeal

    Cinch it is
    To glom her beauty
    In the cuffs of pages
    behind the bars of words
    Under the custody of poet
    And
    prosecute her lover
    for perfidy
    But
    It will leave you mad
    fabric it tatter
    And will dangle on thy
    Bag of bones
    If ever you try to
    cage her existence,
    Her essence.

    For she is a falcon
    Who resides
    Beyond time and space
    Of death
    Above the gravity zone
    Of Despair
    And
    away from the realm of frets
    ©umarr_amin

  • umarr_amin 44w

    Life is ebbing
    Showing frivolous shallowness
    Of my lucre.
    Hawk of death is Lurking
    On my roof
    Tarrying to pouch prey in jiffy,
    Though to squish yet

    I seem to be arrived
    at Murkiness' bog,
    about to be eaten up
    And the dandelion of life
    is singing to me about ' hope'
    'That i can steal from life
    A few more bewish yet'

    Though lost to mysteries
    Of
    self, life and fate
    my faith streamlined
    And hope is to, perish yet
    ©umarr_amin

  • umarr_amin 44w

    Of past
    What I have?
    Nothing.
    Some leftovers
    From the ashes of
    Bygone Illium of history
    My essence is blown away
    Through
    deceitful tactics
    Of cunning Odysseus.

    The sin of eyes
    For Helen of desires
    Cast troy of My heart
    To death
    Though the hector of tears
    Fought with bravery
    To pacify the blaze
    But alas
    The wind didn't blow in favour
    Oxygenated fire and succoured.

    In present
    What I have?
    Nothing.
    A limping hope of future
    That someday,this all will end
    And the Rome of liberty
    Shall be Built
    On palatine/aventine of new dreams
    By
    Failing all Ill portends.

    Where there
    every soul shall live in equity
    and dignity
    With love and prosperity.
    ©umarr_amin

  • umarr_amin 48w

    Syllables riveted
    For the edifice of poem
    On the tumulus plinth
    Of imagination,
    metaphors bricked one by one
    To shape its effulgent facade,
    Emotions woven in
    fabric of imagination
    To frame the Casements,
    Experiences drawn from nature's
    Infinite plays
    to build it's roof.
    Tranquility
    Form
    And the array
    Holy Trinity
    In serendipity
    Blooming in its patio,
    Irises of rhymes
    Dancing their heads
    To the breeze
    In domer,
    And oscine of rhythm
    Serenading
    On it's sill
    All Let loose
    And Syllable by syllable
    Like a ruined ziggurat
    Poem fall apart
    smiting chest
    spitting dust
    Wailing
    on the "death of the author"
    Whose devices were
    in constant strife
    With the thought
    And robbed edifice of it's life
    Now The sighs of the things lisp
    "redeemer"
    perchance a reader they seek.
    ©umarr_amin

  • umarr_amin 87w

    GHAZAL 9

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  • umarr_amin 88w

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  • umarr_amin 88w

    When you Don't know what to write and things get so messed up in your skull that every thing seems to elongate your mind to wide and far

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    In my heart's alcove
    A crevice
    Of space
    So infinite
    So incomprehensible
    So cancerous
    Is nursing
    Feeding on time
    Yelling In silence,
    In darkness
    To be fixed
    But
    With What tool?
    A tool that probably
    subside the slaying pain
    While stitch The rugged flesh
    The tool that be A sedative
    To salve crevice
    And
    Stitch the drain!

    A quill
    My heart longs
    That shall rub
    Ink on the sore
    ©umarr_amin

  • umarr_amin 88w

    GHAZAL 7

    The breeze smells stink this spring
    Bulbul in orchard doesn't plink, this spring

    Deserted streets, arrayed in imbroglios
    ceased city's kink,this spring

    Insipidness, soot almond blooms
    And foliole in shame head sink, this spring

    Tulips blaze and jehlum parch
    For Ill portends tink, this spring

    Seditious heart reprieve rancour
    For sly makes you no rink, this spring

    O umar this dead silence and isolation
    How on earth to life you link, this spring

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