Poetry articles

The tearful eyes…

The tearful eyes…

by Javeed Ahmad Rather   “Splinters and ashes, Shrieks and smoke Noise of wails, Frightful mourning Scary gun powder, Bloody stones, Borders, Homes afire Trenches with skeletons, Ramparts, and repentant time, Scattered scriptures, Wet

Sisters of Kashmir

By: Faisal Khan   O sisters of Kashmir! I know your plight But I can’t do anything to prove my might As shadows of oppressor have ceased my sight But don’t worry sister,

Ladi Shah

By: Shabir Ahmad Mir Ladi Shah Ladi Shah at your door Knot your tongue and talk no more. Lend your ears to my words true, May liars die of bird flu. No longer

‘Atrocity Critters’

By: Hashim Bashir Juvenile Bought, Burnt Buds Flames Are At the Garden Too, Dreams of Fondness Turn To Ashes, Sleep Scorched By Fire Too And Rain of Tears Begin, I Forgot Too When

Elegy for a Bridge

By: Basant Rath You are eleven cement pillars and thirty nine rusted iron railings. You are a small kid who dropped his freshly painted kangri and ran away once the first of the

Silent Sighs of Insha…

By: Asif Sultan Matta ‘Big snowy flakes falling from the sky’ In her sleep, she can hear her mother’s cry. A cozy blanket and white snug duvet Swathed over her, allow her not

I can’t unthink conflict

By: Younis Kaloo Deep, ingrained in me is the victimisation of conflict From my blood and my breaths come the wails of conflict Here, when people tell me “shake off the dust of conflict”

This beautiful world  

  By: Ashiq Hussain Rather That thee see around Mountain tops, snow covered, The sun shining above, Below the numerous stars, The vast oceans and seas Stretching miles away Galaxies of stars, Millions and

Mother’s Tale

Hashim Bashir In the land of struggle, I will wait you like a Sufi   Fallen tears from my eyes, A voiceless screams, Lost in the world of day dreams.   I am

Srabanee, this is Srinagar.

by Basant Rath Srabanee, this is Srinagar. Here we’ve got Friday, snow and streets. Nineteen is only a number. Chinars are tall here and stones are small.   Srabanee, hatred is not all