#review #poetry #love
We flirt all the time
& smile and laugh
But how
Am I suppose to know
If this is real?
I can't control my feelings
Anymore
It's so hard
Being around you
And not saying
All the things
I want you to hear
I'm trying my best
To act casual but.
All I can seem to do
Is get memorised
In your eye... 🙃

#Aarushi
#quote
#review
Value the dark, instead of being afraid of it. Remember, an Earthen lamp gets due importance in the dark, not light.

|| Let This, For you be poetry ||

One day, when all the poets die
and there is left below the sky
Just waters, kissed by lunar light
that gleam and ripple in the night;
let this, for you, be poetry.

When pens and quills have all grown cold
take autumn’s glades of gleaming gold,
where fragrant fires and balmy breeze
do burn and breathe through trembling trees;
let this, for you, be poetry.

While lovers ‘neath the pearly moon
still sigh and sing and sweetly swoon,
with lips, that laugh and love and tease;
when beauty breathes from hearts like these;
let this, for you, be poetry.

When swifts and swallows swoop in spring
and skylarks soar aloft to sing,
while sun sets silent off the shore
and sea does seethe and rave and roar;
let this, for you, be poetry.

One day, when all the poets die
and in their graves the poets lie,
upon the heath, go fill your arms,
with honeysuckle’s tender charms;
let this, for you, be poetry.

#review #Saviour #poetry

#review #danjo #random

Unforgotten are the memories which covered the wall of my heart.
Left are the marks making void unable to fill.
I sat alone morosely contemplating, while you make love with your partner apart.

#review

remember the last line you said to me
remember the last date we meet
remember the last story we read
remember the last seen we live of each others side

everything was the worst

The white moon is weak
Depending on who it meets

The sun or the coward;
It smiles or it frowns

#AhmadMusa #poem #review

O my child, dont you fear,
You will become a greatest sire.
Don't cry, don't you dare,
World is deaf they don't hear.
Hungry beasts will snatch your steak,
Be strong, world's not for weak.
Humans are fake, truth is money,
Mug it well, mug it honey.
Snakes and wolfs and jackals here,
Be careful, predators everywhere.
Hereafter don't show your pain,
Nothing will you ever gain.
Never you shall exceed trust,
Seldom then you'll get hurt.
Even if it's hard to survive.
Take your chances and always strive.
Walk forward, towards the light.
Your future will be bright.
Endeavour and be a warrior.
Cause, World hoping for a saviour.
Show them light, show them path.
Guard them from those vultures wrath.

#Adi
#review
#poem

Today, while I was cleaning every corner of my house with an unused cloth, a thought came in my mind.

"Suppose I would do this in an orphanage, or some NGO, and upload a photo of it. I’ll be in the good books of everyone. People will like me."

The thought didn’t last though. But it was there. Sweeping just four rooms of my house, for one day, and it was there.

Whatever things we do, we do it for recognition or money.

If you don’t believe me, take a few examples from your life. From mine, I’ll point out a few. Writing this post: recognition. Education: money. Buying fancy clothes: recognition. Learning how to invest: money.

These are just clear examples. Nothing brainstorming here. Dive in a little deeper, and you’ll know that everything is related to these two. Recognition and money. Recognition from girls counts, too. Okay?

Now, look at your mother.

Look at the nameplate of your house. Is there her original surname on it? Or even her name? No? Recognition— cross.

Is she a housewife who works at least twelve to fourteen hours a day? Yes? Does she make money out of it? No? Money— cross.

—

Whenever I come across a term called woman, I cross it down. I replace it with mother. And when I glance at this word now, I see everything.

I see the whole goddamn world in it.

Because why not? She’s the one who doesn’t work for recognition or money, she works for the love she has for me and my family. Nothing else.

As a closure, there’s a Hindi excerpt that’s very close to my heart. I’d like to share this with you.

"Akhsar dekha hai maine

Purush kavi hota hai

Daarshnik hota hai

Filmkaar hota hai

Chitrakaar hota hai

Bahut bechain hai kuch rachne ke liye

Kyunki wo kabhi jeevan nhi rach sakta

Kyuki wo kabhi maa nahi bann sakta."

Translation:

I have seen it too often,

A man is a poet,

A philosopher,

A director,

A painter,

He’s very restless to create something,

As he can’t create a life.

Because he can never become a mother.

#review #Saviour #random

Why's a man who?
Why's a beast what?

What does he has?
What does it lack?

Men brag of brain
Beasts also think

Why's he a man?
Why's it a beast?

He has two scales
It has just one

Mood and morals
It lives on mood


#review #poem #AhmadMusa

#shortstory #review #aqbilal

He wrote a piece. Read it, and after some thought, deleted it. Suddenly, he wrote it again, rephrasing some sentences and changing the tone, better than the previous one. He copied the text to a social media website and saved it as a draft. Before he published, he made some changes here and there, making it poetic and beautiful.
"You are a genius, man", somebody commented. "It seems the words are at your service, brother", the other one wrote. He sighed and kept the phone on side table. A notification popped up,
"You write too good, I'd love to talk to you".
"N-o- y-o-u-u-u wo-wo-won't", he thought aloud, stuttering as usual.

-A.Q.Bilal

#review #aqbilal

|Writing And the Life|

Writing has a life of its own, with soft and hard breaks. You take a soft break, and the idea is suspended in readers mind: connecting it to the next one. The light breaks add beauty, and the hard one makes it clear. The clarity is the heartbeat of the writing. Pauses, after a limit, make the writing clumsy and untidy. Ideas with a lot of soft breaks are difficult to comprehend. The brain can’t bear suspension more than its limit. Both the breaks are wheels to advance a drive but the hard one makes it clear. And clarity is what you need. Take a break, a long one.
-A.Q.Bilal

#review
Your rhymes in your poetry are so complex
I like how deep and rich this character is
This plot twist is amazing 👌
Well done 👏👏

| A Song Of Sorrow |

My soul is singing like a bird
A song of sorrow I once heard
A nightingale perform one day
When Lady Love had flown away

His was a sad and sorry plight
A pretty poor pathetic sight 
He seemed ~ as such, resembled me!
Since I myself know misery

For loss of Love's a tragic thing
As troubadours would often sing
In pain-filled, medieval times
They’d pluck their lyres, recite their rhymes

Composed laments of long-lost love
They penned, as pleas, to God above
For healing of their heart and mind
(They saw in God, the caring kind)

Their verse performed would touch and tear 
Of broken hearts the wounds lay bare 
Their lyrics moved the king and queen,
Who’d sat before like stone, serene

And peasants wept and so did lords
The soldiers’ tears would wet their swords
While priests would pine and chant and pray
As men possessed ~ like me today!

Whose soul is singing like a bird
A song of sorrow I once heard
A nightingale perform one day
When Lady Love had flown away

#review #poetry #Saviour

#review #poem #aqbilal

Few years back I wrote this poem.

|Terror|

Definition of terror is a bit confusing!
See who is being accused and who is accusing!

Killings by 'The Power' is war on terror
Defence by the victim is almost terror.

Oh A White did a shootout?
He is a psycho or a sadist!
Oh! The black has a gun
Is he a terrorist?

Governing its people can be a sin.
If you are ignoring what 'The Power' is saying.
You may be a good king but you will be dethroned and accused.
For looting the people, allowing 'them' to loot.

Terror can be defined with the color .
The saffron is innocent but the green is with the terror.
Grabbing the lands is establishment of peace.
Defending their land can invite decease.

Definition of terror can be manipulated.
Homicide by 'The power' is always accepted.

A.Q.Bilal

I see walls in my freedom
Greasy and cryptic daunting walls
They know me, like a candlestick in my hand which forbids to lit up
I feel isolated and beneath me and beyond me,
does no world exist, nothing breathes.
I sit and write dimensions of those walls,
I calculate the horizons, the equators
and the pages seemed insignificant to fill all the numbers.
A man yells, 'they are building a distinct wall next to this'
They all cry their eyes out the whole day.
A man furiously ran and hit his head to the wall
Until he fell,
Choking with blood, murmuring words
I looked at him as he slowly falls asleep.
A middle-aged couple
Sitting and leaning onto the wall
Holding each other’s hand
And marking days with a stone on the greasy wall.
Two kids hugging the wall, standing on toes,
Ssshhh! Their ears on the side of the wall,
Listening to whispering and humming from the ‘other side’. 
The old men and women seemed content, clean and too cold
They chant and fall asleep themselves, they wake up and pretend they slept soundly.
A man of my grandfather’s age tells me
he was life-sentenced here when he was of my age.
Each breath is borrowed and with each heartbeat, his debts are increasing.
I see a small girl painting, ‘mountains are white or green? 
Are they greasy and dark like the walls?’ she asks me
I tell her 'no they are no like these walls; I have heard they are beautiful'
'so what color do I fill in them?' she asks me
I say 'keep them empty, fill them when you see them someday'.© Vaibhav

#poem #review

hey ! I am hurt but still love you
I am broken down but still think of you
I have everything but still empty
I have all power but still feeling weak
Without you my love ... I am stone
I am out of my mind
Is this love or my mind has gone
#Poem #Vj #Review

#review
#Aarushi
#quote
I never denied the fact that humans are humans, I am just searching for humanity in them.

Unmeddingly,
the nights are brighter than they seem...🔅
And days are darker than they feel...⚫️

#review #shriti #microtale

#poem #review #aqbilal

I wrote a letter,
on a page,
read it,
tore it,
and burned it,
in the fire.
Backspace doesn't help
you grieve,
the fire does.
The one you can see,
feel the heat.
All that you blabbered
through the paper,
burning in the fire,
with memories and pain.
Can this fire,
heal my burns?
-A.Q.Bilal

#poem #review #ayush


You may ever thought how you look.
but I can't describe you in a book

You are that beautiful girl
Whose dazzling eyes shine like a pearl

You are the first drop of the rain
And gives that fragrance where are smells are
vain

You are the beautiful bird which sings
And fly high through wings

You have such melodious voice
Resisting my ears from listening I have no
choice.

You may ever thought how u look
but I can't describe you in a book.


Thanks :)

Farmers with their hoes
Are not confused
When they face their farms.

Mothers with their brooms
Do not get puzzled
When they face their rooms.

But we, with our joints
Are often at loss
When we face our worlds.

They both have learned
From those who'd past:
What is good and what is not.

From people who had known
What is a farm and
What is a room

But those who speak on ours
Have not seen
All its sides

And those who have,
Are not willing
To speak again.


#AhmadMusa #poem #review