April Farewell’~Memories Strike ~Poetry Lives On~

For our final prompt, we’re featuring Kavyastream, where the final poem is a ghazal translated from Urdu!

Translation of an Urdu nazam….

jab yaad se yaad takraati hai…..


When memories strike,hit heavily the heart
pain flows out from the eyes-what links are these of
soul and spirit,body still,cold,breath on hold-
then they- in love find thought and mind helpless
and seek restfulness for perpetual soul so restless-
but fail…

maybe then for peace of heart
will walk the one and only path
will think of one writer,a psychopath?
moments of tender care will rise
in visions, then time will apprise

the priceless value of words
the need to express the thoughts
the letter that unites the power of
the pen that writes…

what is the spirit to spirit link
Who is the angel that resides,brings…
a memory and loving memories past
a thought lost but one that lasts

and when the pain will grow
and need to talk will restless make
the spirit and heart to tremble and shake

then slowly the hand will reach,
the paper to take, silently hold the pen,
wipe the flowing beads from the eyes
and begin to trace words,form thoughts in lines…

so when memories strike…


Ta Ta Two Hearts,Three Spades

Today, I’d like to challenge you to write a poem that incorporates “the sound of home.” Think back to your childhood, and the figures of speech and particular ways of talking that the people around you used, and which you may not hear anymore.
Two hearts, three spades’four diamonds’


shuffle shuffle, deal, make tea please’

matches anyone, one from the 555 tin

how hot it is ? switch off the fan

Honey tea’ honey tea’ ‘picnic , to Murree’

lets see ? O Mayan, I said, switch off the fan

Oh what loving company was that to me’

I hear the song’The yellow rose of Texas’

that I am going to see’

Babri boobri babri bam babrri boobrri babrri

jal gayee dunya mil gaye hum’ babrri boobrri

bam bam bam…

everyone for prayer, come those who can

O Allah forgive us for our short comings

Dearies forgive me I have not been a good

father, Come let us plan life again…

Come let us play Scrabble…soon it will be time

Yes don’t waste it in music,this will neverscan0012

help you cross the final bridge…Allah is the Greatest ….

Helper and His word only gives peace, so pray…

sound of music,rustle of newspaper, and then

all the time the loving thanks..Ta Ta Ta……

say salam read read  ‘Be Brave’ the world is a stage

Look ahead sacrifice, serve humanity Care, care, care

Love your country…

This world is temporary

‘Again again and again, again again and again

When I was single my pocket did jingle

I long to be single again’ Grandfather married thrice

and we were a happy loving laughing family

sharing joys and sorrows stories and so much poetry

Happy times with flags and speeches, rides in Fiats and Chevees

jeeps and land Rovers, beautiful Beehive sweaters and pullovers

with the joys of homely fun playing cards praying ..now memories

are all I have as time passes and moves over…….


NapoWrimo ~ Day 9 ~ Like a Slave Bowing ~

This one sounds simple, but it can be pretty difficult. Today, I challenge you to write a poem that includes a line that you’re afraid to write. This might be because it expresses something very personal that makes you uncomfortable…


Image result for weakness


to run away but not to die or be called weak

to runaway from invisible walls,not knowing

what is being walled out,but knowing who builds

standing head held high,not like a slave bowing.

to have the freedom to share time,give love to love’

pray pray pray and ask only from the Power above


NaPoWriMo Day 8 ~ Flower of Magnificence ~


Poets have been writing about flowers since, oh, the dawn of time. So today, I challenge you to add your own poem to this long tradition, by finding a flower, and versifying in its honor. Happy writing!

Orchids~ the Flower of Magnificence’


     wast thou created for death

    or scented magic spells for lovers

    what color yellow purple is this?

    what lies beneath the tender petals

The Magnificent created the Magnificence

soft silky soothing crown like

pure in silent laughing  innocence

royal in form majestic in style,stay’

O Flower a while while I hold thee

in my vision,rest you in memory  making jealous

cousins lilies and irises,natural is but jealousy

and if you had a voice to speak, would it be soft and silky too

what would you say,Oh lovers of Flowers listen, huskiness

flows as the column shakes,beautiful chimes it makes

that touch the inner recesses of the invisible spirit

restless as someone says…but wait..life is short

the colors fade..return to the Magnificent

who Magnificence made..flowers appear,born again

gone is the pain as purple reigns,same again….

O Flower I love thee as you I find,many I left behind

look not the other way,for soon Spring is hot in May

April away,stay,stay,smile awhile,as I thank’ and pray’



NaPoWrimo Day 7 ~ Tristina ~ For A Bike ~

Day Seven comes to us from Gloria Gonsalves, who challenges us all to write atritina. The tritina is a shorter cousin to the sestina, involving three, three-line stanzas, and a final concluding line. Three “end words” are used to conclude the lines of each stanza, in a set pattern of ABC, CAB, BCA, and all three end words appear together in the final line.

Tritina for Susannah

The water off these rocks is green and cold.
The sandless coast takes the tide in its mouth,
as a wolf brings down a deer or lifts its child.

I walked this bay before you were my child.
Your fingers stinging brightly in the cold,
I take each one and warm it in my mouth.

Though I’ve known this shore for years, my mouth
holds no charms of use to you, my child.
You will have to learn the words to ward off cold

and know them cold, child, in your open mouth.

–David YezziIMG_20151108_170726_584

silent saviour I wonder who left you here so

parked on a stand,once looked so grand,you

still can be and are the survivor in the land

you,two wheeled machine racing so across native land;


though loved ridden wheeled and enjoyed

you help carry foursome family , milk cans

on both sides balanced loaded truck like,fans

wait for the burr,roar enjoy,as cans clank and fans clap;


and so here you stand on lonely road side,silent

brave alone in power hidden inside the engine

with one kick get alive stir all who ride,joys beside

when thrill is joy engine starts,friendly hold beside,race begins.





~ NaPoWrimo 2016 ~ April is Cruel…but the August Partition

“The Waste Land,” T.S. Eliot famously declared that “April is the cruelest month.” But is it? I’d have thought February. Today I challenge you to write a poem in which you explore what you think is the cruelest month, and why.pictures 086

August Partition ~

April is the cruelest month,
bare branches sprouting tiny greens,
life bursting from the lifeless,
A rising,
mixing sorrow of defeat with defiance,
Spring rain drizzles consistently,
snow suddenly surprised us
We stopped in the plains,
leaving the mountains’
Went in half daylight so we should have
Known the path,
and the unknown traversed rarely,
So we should have known the faith,
and the faithful and the Emperors of deteriorating affairs-
Not long ago, when I was a child, born in strife
was carried across borders, fear unknown to me, yet
frightened, slept in a camp for two nights,
-wonder how Mother felt? She never spoke
About those days, then on we
came to Murree Hills, and felt free
And I knew not, was I taking refuge or was it a
New land?
What was left in enemy hands, where
Are the roots that make a family?
Out of the masses who survived who committed
Suicide-you cannot say or guess even for you
Have seen only images and heard only broken voices
Who lost half the thought in trying to forget
Spoke not all-scenes of horror
Heaps of bodies cut and slayed
Blood splattered on trains roads and fields
Death, for a cause? Yet not Jehad or was it?
Many went South, separated, lost, confused-
All said ‘we shall go back, one day’
The Day never came-
And then the beginning of the end-
One by one
Who has seen Spring again, after the Fall
Providence persists prevails
Acceptance and non-acceptance is, what ails
Unreal cities, unreal people, so unlike what
Was expected-
War War War and again War-
When will it end, Terror strikes within
Shelter is scarce, fashion abounds and all
Is a show off! Young dead glorified
on the mini screen, what are they dying for
now? Half the barren land, minerals in ranges
The enemy changed and we thought ’this is Right-
People crowd the roads, daily beggars are children
And who said ‘we shall have enough, and peace”

Mountains and Rocks
Mountains are dangerous, no rocks will give
Shelter, there is no water, nor wells
A waste it becomes, filth in the drains overflowing
And the big man’ said’ we have worked hard’
But the mountains will not protect,
Truth is linked , Faith is strong
It will not be long when the Shadow
Will turn to Light and the darkness will go-
Go in the shadow of the mountain
Sit by the stream and clean all
The mind and soul, wash away to the sea
Impurity, or else be prepared to face,
a tsunami, or the jolts and shakes
there is still a chance-look! Be the Dance
not the dancer, in the circle of life
Come to a still point with Nature
Where nothing matters anymore-
Think and feel, help and heal, the needy
Feed the hungry, for I can see-there comes
Someone-keeps close and watches, ever present
Who leads us on unseen and the Third we say
Who helped us –it’s not our doing but The Mercy
Of The Merciful-
Bow bow bow –pray pray pray
Welcome love from above, eternal peace will stay