saadattahir

thanx ....FRIEND....:) sat

Days and nights swing In the maze of morning’s wing drip vines and timeless threads Dazed on sleepless mossy beds Toss, worn out smudged days Afloat on endless vacant ways amidst a soulless empty yawn Await a far off kindled dawn original saadat tahir 30 June, 2k11

thanx rainbow....kind words...i have loads of poems...will share insha Allah i hope you will continue to like my work...am encouraged work i will post will be original...inshaAllah always! :) sat

Dancing, drop on a distant slope to forbidden confines then elope breathless covets, held at a clip as an underlip is caught in a nip Prance in frenzy, go forth sup Dally around the brimming cup Fearful of the coming deluge in togetherness we take refuge bolts of lightning show the way nature’s winds, forward sway flimsy corner’s caught on stays thirst to a monsoon music plays cascades recede, rainbows peek and in their colors so much seek hop and skip on languid scapes reach in realms for earthy grapes original saadat tahir July 08, 2k11 Al’Qaseem-KSA

Days and nights swing In the maze of morning’s wing drip vines and timeless threads Dazed on sleepless mossy beds Toss, worn out smudged days Afloat on endless vacant ways amidst a soulless empty yawn Await a far off kindled dawn original saadat tahir 30 June, 2k11 http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6EOi9g9vZok&feature=related

Have no space and no worth. Shorn of grace, torn off mirth. Lost we hands, left and right. Yearn we just a ray of light. Left we back, home and hearth. Outstretched hands, girdle earth. Whence to go in larger interest? Home; how come, has been infest? Hearts and minds reduced to crust. We’ll be settled as booted dust. Left behind, few things we stashed. Brutally our life and soul rehashed. At times termed, displaced ones. Painfully suffer the nomadic puns. Pastures once that sprouted charms. Scarred and pitted now cordite harms. Goats the cows and our yeasts. Horses we rode and burden beasts. Ruined and caved in idle wells. Ghostly ruined our blooming dells. Swirling squalls; banshee screams. Scatter to dust our nascent dreams. Have no place to pitch or rest. Our sanity’s now been put to test. Where the water? Where the corns? Where the pots? My golden morns? Strewn shards devoid of scope. Niente nicene and ruined hope. original Saadat tahir (Islamabad) (Friday, June 19,2009)

Land of plenty and woven rugs. Down and ailing with banal bugs. Sadly on the wings of tipsy thugs. Blood of a million gave her life. Lost to odium and planted strife. In bondage love, as hate is rife. Round and round they brew the pot. Concocted lies to truth a rot. Add more fuel to make it hot. Whir the bobbins on their wheels. Zip; bits and bytes in zillion reels. Naked innocence sobs and kneels. O’derry O’derry*…cackled lies. Rip a shanty gouge the eyes. Stomp and stifle helpless sighs. It so worked in centuries past. Land ahoy! We yelled from masts. Broke the ranks in sullied casts. Wondered the witches as they gaped. My motherland alas is vanquished raped. As those that matter, stood by, aped. original saadat tahir 03 June, 2k11 *O’derry O’derry, …in contemporary English lore, sound of the spinning wheel. http://www.rmichelson.com/Artist_Pages/Sanderson/The%20Spinning%20Wheel%2020x35.jpg http://www.wpclipart.com/holiday/halloween/witch/witches_2/witches_cauldron.png.html http://www.shakespeare-literature.com/Macbeth/18.html

Delightful puff after a belly brunch. Crushing packs in an amusing scrunch. Awe struck watch the macho adds. FOREST dwellers* carry home wads. Take you pride in the trick and flick. Single handed jerk and fancy slick. Misplaced passion, you kiss the stub. For mindless arson, you have a club. Buy fancy tit-bits for the scourge. A wilting wife needs more rouge. Lit up fags on the barest hunch. Care a fig for the angel bunch. A gift, the little ones, to this world. How they smile, asleep an curled. Nascent flowers; don’t hurt no more. Let the air, they breathe be pure. Care an shield the expectant ones. Stop spewing circles an your puns. Allow your elders fresh air to breathe Already for air they long and seethe Off the bus and everyone heaves. Wish he’s gone an forever leaves. Scant your regard for their sighs. Deep down burn their smarting eyes. Pain and strain your friendly tie. Till, you from cancer, one day die. original (Islamabad) (May 21, 2009) *FOREST dwellers http://www.forestonline.org/ http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yRMjxVgnFfI

Scraped sweat from weary backs. Wrenched vacant eyes from empty racks. Snatched from eyes teary dreams, baked an armada of valor’s realms. Bits of earth in frenzy snatch. Wanton ways they will not latch. Nailed to chimera is breath afloat. Of puny riches the mortals gloat. Tenures tumble in bargain days. Like rotting ships in sheltered bays. From crows nest the rags weep. Blown by winds to waters deep. Bob and drift in brandished lie. Sobs and hiccups brazen die. Lost in pages yellowed tomes. Ghost of Genghis, arisen roams. A blink away from Tariq’s boats. To tinder burn my watery moats. Softly hands that hold our wheels. Training virtues hard on deals. To my bleeding heart and apple eye. The sleeping dogs shall let them bye. original saadat tahir 25 may, 2k11 Buraidah-KSA

thanx ,od here happy and honored cheers...:) sat

From fated gashes gurgle streams. Snatch carmine rags from the seams. Where gold peaks, from proud hills. Peppers life in dales, humming mills. A son lies sans cap and open mouth. Softly on grasses that creep from south. Sleeps, stretched, under the blue sky, pale in his green bed where rain drops fly. Gladioli tickle his feet, he sleeps, smiles. Like a stricken child without the guiles. Cradle softly nature, for he is cold. Ah! In life, was so warm and bold. No earthly incense shall quiver the nare. Nor mortal cares transgress his lair. He sleeps in the sun, hand on his breast Calm! Red roses ooze from the side of his chest. Adapted from a famous French poem: Le dormeur du val (Arthur Rimbaud) 1870. Heavily borrowed and helped with…for I know not a word of French! … thanx all… I_B, S_W, M_C, T_N, C_D… :) As translated by Oliver Bernard: Arthur Rimbaud, Collected Poems (1962) http://www.mag4.net/Rimbaud/poesies/Sleeper.html saadat tahir…done as a sequel to my poem…”spring on crutches” http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/spring-on-crutches-ravages-of-war/ 21st April, 2k11. Buraidah-KSA. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=drBd2GIiPL4&feature=related

Expectant gaze across the doors. Oceans and skies on our floors. Swept off your feet, at first glance, tango in seconds, effortless dance. Gaped and aped at painted men. Our hearts bloomed, so much then. Skipped that day from Ben’s side, to lapping waters of queen’s ride. Plucked holy berries at the hill, Hand in hand by the watermill. Head on his shoulder, silky hair. Hand in hand, the lovelorn pair. Giggled and sang the eternal song. In those parks, by the age old gong. It gently blew to caress your cheek. As you gasped and just went weak. Rushed the walks, not tender talks. Dreamt, by attics and water lochs. Weathered snows, for our sake. Latte and pies, that freshly bake. Across the bridges of a millennia, whiffed natures aroma in magnolia. Ambled the knolls, throbbing lakes, dipped our hands in parting wakes. In Mary’s close, like the moles, And on Britannia, by distant shoals. Neither the tubes dizzying haste, nor the gargoyles’ watchful waste, It wasn’t a reverie in yesteryear! Ages away? No! Fresh and near! A sniffle, a quiver, fumbling keys, across the waters parting geese. Goodbye blears, a nervous smile. Through the counters in single file. Strained, the bonds, are weary thin, and a vacant blemish deep within. Aroma of orchard apples, stills, waiting for a dove, by my sills. Original. saadat tahir. 07 April, 2k11. Buraidah-KSA.

sad and charming.. touchy lines well done cheers

thanx P_G so sweet o yaz cheers...:) sat

Shishi and I, just draped our doll, Giggling, in the shade of a sacred scroll. Stood by the well and eyed us long, in weathered hands a goatherd thong. Hapless I gaped at the towering palm. Whispered to me a well known psalm. Daunted and tender I looked at the fronds, It mumbled some words and family bonds. “Kuntee takooleen inni falzat kabadak” hid in a hut, “Abee wa akhee Al muhaiboon” away from the rut. I shaded my eyes to the blinding glare. Made out the outline of a gaping snare. And! We tasted the yet halfdone dates. Dry and odious, it insipid, grates. Blew the sandstorm, hair in my eyes. Thundered and raged at desperate sighs. I looked around at that; oasis green. At the aged palms and their sheen. In the sand, undressed, lay Shishi’s doll, while she herself, for the grandest mall. Beyond this farce were the sandy dunes. Some wilted stubs and dried prunes. Had dreamt of whispers, incense pure! For our childish curiosity, a delicate cure! We wanted to savor our beautiful dunes. Sheltered in the hush of a tender moon. original saadat tahir 07 April, 2k11 Buraidah-KSA Key-Arabic to English-metaphorical “Kuntee takooleen inni falzat kabadak” You used to say I was your heart & soul…..(her mother would say) “Abee wa akhee Al muhaiboon” My father and brothers brave……(the child’s searching gaze…looks for them in vain)

love hurts....? oh ya it does.....but only sometimes...:) cheers

Slowly the sun has lost its light, Worlds, love, are left to blight. Harshly brushed from the sky, weeping soul, bids goodbye. The dying day; my heart slows. Now faint, behind a mount glows. The stirring birds, too far away. Swoop to death, descend in gray In depth of cauldrons, deep below. Witches harken the demons dhow. Flicker, alight their jaundiced eyes. Scarce a blink at painful byes. Canine mongrels now frenzied feed. To trample, scuff, the pearly bead. Snatch from swallows, tender wings. Quicken hearts at Roman rings. Learn their tricks from swooping shrikes, impale my dreams on thorny spikes. Raise the churls to screech, incant. A foretold fate and feelings scant. Sliced bit by bit, to tattered shards. Without a grimace, my tender cards. In fetid toils, an eternal blot; are tears and pains, a measure not. Plunder lilies from ponds to wiles. Sunk my cares in driven piles. Hades' baneful staff hath swung. Singed, scorched, doom is sprung Original Saadat tahir April, 03 2011 Buraidah-KSA

We had our jolts, numbing bolts. Abortive muted true revolts. Many tsunamis had us pound, Ever since history had us found. Babers of yon had their stakes. Babers today just lowly fakes. Baring canines every now and then. But unstoppable whir the arms of Ben. And their Consigliere; a so called man. All! Sollozzo the Turk and sponsored fan. His hunger is more then a zillion mouths. His entourage scary teeming uncouths A practiced, haunting toothy smirk, Hides his face and the cavalier jerk. Now shamelessly running from pillar to post. Fed some few with cuisine and roast. Belches and bravado from the rotund ones. Fourth estate’s talks and nauseating puns. On the rim of a cauldron’s stench bobs. The black coats messiah sulks and sobs. Scrunch! Goose foot; phalanxes start to march. Sadly pointing to the ides of March. original saadat tahir 14-03 2k11 (Islamabad)

Fell in a dream munching heaven, Left just one, did all eleven. Dreamt of a castle made of cream. Iced brownie, fairy theme. Over the heavenly scape I float. Slurping honey, in a cherry moat. Princely tall and dark, handsome. Sword by side and chocolates some. Slowly approached with nuttela bars. In deep brown eyes twinkled stars. Sister jumped and spoiled the show. Awoken, I frown at a heartless bro. Rubbed my eyes, yawned a stretch. Instantly knew what I had to fetch. Tiptoed to the fridge, but wait! Hark! May be in shadows a waiting shark. An ear to mom’s bedroom door. Heard the musical, papa’s snore. All clear, I glided on my way. Barely touched and he cautioned stay. I flail and squeal, he picks me up, to see those beaming brimming cups. original saadat tahir 19 july,10 Buraydah-KSA.

I wish my flowing tears; stood witness, to a crashing loneliness in this cess. O’had I not made a forsaken start. And none had bet for a broken heart. Hopes, heart dashed to bits on distant isles, to impassable barriers of a million miles. The armada’s hopeless tryst with far-off rifts, stand alone cluthing fistful sands, as it sifts. Lost to anguish, hurting wistful desires, ambers doused afore the raging fires. I wish those memories; would just wash, spare me the pain and enduring splosh. Heaven intercede, to completely erase, the mindless waves, sadness and craze. original Saadat 06 0510 buraydah-ksa

Daughter of Nile……1004/10 Pair of warmest, shiny, amber eyes. See through deceit and alluring lies. Fairest damsel in rank and file. A gem, a jewel, the daughter of Nile. Cultured, enigmatic, vivacious smile. Ready to help and go that mile. The Nile inside dances and bubbles a song. Like its water that means no wrong. Deep springs well inside, twitter the birds. The depth of heart not given to words. Her demeanor; brings forth many a sighs. Knows the darkest spots on MRIs. For millennia the sphinx, a muted guard! Patiently waited for bint e Ra’ad. Glides the corridors and keeps her own. In the finest tradition to pick no bone. Skewered aside, chivalrous nouveau-riche, Sends them packing without a glitch. Knows her radiology and her place. Unarmingly detaches from creed or race. The Arabian Oryx walks the shifting dune. A hope for the traveler is the desert moon; that rises by the sea, in Domyat’s fold. Spreading its color in charming gold. Ya! aiyoun’el Maha wa ghina ‘el bahar. Aj’ab-nee ghareeb wa ghalafnee bis s’har. Aariftee wa fahamtee qooaat’el saba. Mawjooda fi aayee tareek wa qullo rehaa. Qutulnee ba ayoonukee bedoon’er rehma. Ishh hina qalm, jaamid...heeya ma fehma.! (From the few words u spoke to me…. The few looks you sent my way…. And many many times when my eyes followed you….silently….surely…!) Original. Saadat. Buraidah- Kingdom of Saudi Arabia. April 10, 2010 (For a new found friend…. Who thinks every thing is fair in love and war….and he thinks nothing of plagiarism… ;)….)

Away to strings, where passions swing. Know no sense nor reason’s rhyme. Aloft ye come bring forth thy wings to free me rise and sing to chimes. Swirl in mists, unspoken dreams. Float thy smiles and tresses shine. With quivering lips and twinkling eyes. Quench and drench in eternal wine. Let promises spring to trembling cords, to dwell in realms, to dance and dine. blow kiss to bliss and today to time. knew no lord nor king or queen. not weighed in gold nor nickel dime. soar away to dizzying heights death or doubt nor pain can climb. Self and soul with purest mind I’v wowed my heart an hand in thine. Original Saadat (Islamabad) (Vintage…from files)

Haven’t I been hurt before, yet indulging tryst and trust, days all lost in tears, through my eyes, that often burst. Soaked! Meaningless lies, for perennial truths. Floundered mazes, dusty ends in rotting youths. Your promises adorn culverts of my dazed strife, and tresses shine like the glint of a wonton knife. Together we languish, yet, in haunted dreams. Ricocheting, I know, hand in hand in silent screams. Darkened haunted pitted streets, trampling teams. Our weary toes dance to tunes and distant schemes. From jagged tops, down to senseless desolate plains. Tumbling cliffs now drown in brews and failed rains. Oh would it haven, kept you, the kindled flame. cloaked and stroked, you, that frees the wretch; his tortured name. Prayers wishes desires and wants well in hearts yon sordid pains. Unblessed, blemished haunted decades engulf in eternal stains. original saadat tahir (Islamabad) (January 25, 2010)

A thousand wishes so, each leaves one, devoid of breath. Many desires now rest, fulfilled; so many yet remain unmet. Fears why my smiter? Shall it remain upon his neck? That blood, which flows free from teary eyes without let Banished Adam from heaven, we have heard the lore but. Here too humbled done, we leave your streets even yet. Bared shall lie, Oh truculent! Thine acme’s enigma. If this turbaned flair’s winding twists be vilely twirls unset. If an Epistle be sent forth to her, let us be the scribe. Dawn arrives, with a quill on ear from our abode, fret! Bore me, this period, the ignominy of libations excess. Lunation then wrought, periods that chalice upon chalice whet. Upon whom I rested, desires of extol for my scars. Weighed she even more maimed and broken as a wretch. Indifferent is indeed Love, to be dead or to being alive, her visage we live by, the heathen, who is, breath’s regret. O’ Lessen load on this weighted breast, that, dispel I this cruel arrow. That if dismissed the heart pops, and so with the heart so its breath. In the name of Lord , bare not the Kaaba, of its shroud. Lest it unfolds, and here too resides the same heathen statuette. whence the ale house door GHALIB and whence the vicar, but so much I know, yesterday he was entre, as I just left. saadat tahir (Islamabad) (Nov 17, 2009) ** Adapted from an URDU POET: GHALIB Mirza Asadullah Khan 1797-1869, (almost, Urdu’s Shakespeare) “Hazaaron khwahishen aisi ke har khwahish pe dam nikle” A common form of writing in urdu literature “the GHAZAL”. What is a Ghazal? : eBazm.com