“Poetry is what happens when nothing else can” Bukowski

The sequel of night

Is ‘just’ another night.

Cold and blank

When the sun in my head

Burns every cell

Every emotion

But refuses to come out

Unless it’s in the form of poetry.

With each passing day

My gods are becoming fewer and smaller

But the people with newspaper ideas n’ television heads

Are getting bigger and hungrier.

The soul is rare

The magic even rarer

But I still believe in it

Crazy eyes can’t see beyond it.

There are still miles in my cup of coffee

Infinite songs in my silence.

There is still a chance in not having a chance

Clarity in accidental darkness.

the science behind art

And then you came in
like soft midnight
gliding across any obstacles
that may appear between us

Time went wild
to slow and diminish
the explosion of appearances,
But you stood still, in faith.
A lone witness,
to my death
and birth
in the trembling silence of night.
Awake,
when all expands and thins out
inside me,
making you
what you are;
my mindless unbidden muse.

The opening of the trunk....

I open my eyes each day and reality becomes my biggest dream.
I feel the odd freshness of breeze, even though the windows are never open.
Cool whispers of air,
trickles of water
become my everyday companions... and I hold easy conversations with the vibrations of my eardrums.
Every sound I hear belongs to me.
Every face I see, is mine.
Wading deeper and deeper into the elated waters of laughter,
I leave a trail of dreams behind me (in case you too decide to lose yourself and find everything in return.)

music from the other side of the wall

every song is a discovery i make into myself....

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6R_Puk0oxQk

this is a fusion of three different entities.

all of 'em are armed with their own individual expressiveness

that is bound to blow away every possible reservations... until nothing remains... but the TRUTH.

am pasting the poetry and its translation.

its worth reading-its worth listening!

Saieen Zahoor:

pur pur ilm te fazal hoyo

Ve kadi apne aap nu parya nai!

bajh bajh varnaye.mandar-e-maseet e

Va kadi mann apne vich varya nai..

Larna Roz!...Shaitaan de naal

Ve kadi nafs apne naal larya nai!!

Bulleh shah..asmaani udhiyaan phiro nai

Ve jera ghar betha..unhoun phariya nai

Bas kari oh yaar

ilmo bas kari oh yaaar.

Aik alif tere Darkaar HAQ!
Bas kari oh yaar ilmo

bas kari oh yaar
Allah saaiyaan(repeat)

Ali Noor:
niiiii.. mein.Jaana...

jogi de naal

ni mein janaa..JOGI de naal..

ni mein jana...Jogi de...naal..

Ali Hamza:
Jo na jaane

Haq ki taaqat

rab na deve

usko himmat

Hum mann ke dariya mein doobay

Kaisi nayya, kya manjhdhaar; haq
Bas kari oh yaar ilmo

Bas kari oh yaar(repeat)

Translation:

Saieen Zahoor:
You read, studied gained knowledge

Yet you have never read yourself

You enter temples and mosques

Yet you've never entered your own heart

Everyday you fight satan (demons)

Yet never squabbled with yourself (your inner demons)

Bulleh Shah, you try grabbing that which is in the sky

But you never get hold of what's inside your own house

stop dwelling in the knowledge (of the world)

one Alif (A/allah) is all you need

Ali Noor:

Im going along

Im going along

with the devotional one

Ali Hamza:
One who doesnt know

The strength of truth

God wont give them the strength

We are drowning in our own selves

There are no boats, nor storms; only truth

Haq! (truth)

Define Me

Yesterday you asked me, why do I speak?
I, a slave of my habit responded with an answering question as to why do you listen?
Do you not know that I don’t verbalize any words but you create them in your mind through your hearing? You do not make my words discernible when you hear them; you make your own thoughts audible through your hearing. And if my words are your own doing then I am definitely not what you think me to be. The essence of your caricature of me is you, yourself.
Not me.
Do you know what I thus achieve? I achieve independence; I gain a self which is free from your scrutiny …. free from any boundaries you make to restrict it.
I gain ME. But this does not mean I have dissected you. How can I? I do not have the control or the desire. This same verity frees you as well. You only have to realize your freedom just as I have.
Does this make you wonder what am I then?
Do not think on it. Take me as I am just as I have taken you; without queries. There is no other way for us.

Watercolour Stains

The palette is dry
And his face wet
with stains of colours
that survived

Soon the light will blend every colour to a pastel smile
Soon the life,
will die

Estranged - arent we all?

Today,
I killed myself with a book.
Its words mutilated my thoughts and overruled everything that bore resemblance to me.
Today… I killed myself with a book.
Tomorrow… Am hoping to die at the hands of a film.

a moment of insanity

Black is the silence stretched upon your soul. Aging significantly with every passing moment, strong are its ties within you, without you.

Black is the colour of light shining in the solace of your room. Shattering every facade of surroundings, dead is its illusion inside you, outside you.

Black is blue, bluer than all ideas written across your face. Shadowing every line with comfort, alive is its darkness between you and me.