You are beautiful. And, this is my confession.

I found her-
Somewhere in this world.

I only watched, silent,
and i somehow changed.

Her sorrow,
feels like a cold winter night, spent in loneliness.
But her joy, is the rising of the warm winter sun.

As my eyes slide away from her to look at the world,
I notice the air has taken her scent,
and the sight has taken her color.

You are beautiful.
And, this is my confession.

By: Khawaja Hamad

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I walk With the moon ….

I walk with the moon and I talk to the stars,
I fly with fireflies and live with my scars.

I mend broken flowers for living and I listen to the night breeze,
I sing to the sea and with my sorrows come to appease.

It seems as if I have lived in this darkness for so long,
I have forgotten how to translate right from wrong.

Saqi ! tonight measure this ocean with your wine,
Separate my tears from the salt and draw a line.

Oh Beloved ! Open your eyes again as I search for a lost soul,
This may be to you Just another dark night, but to me it is a black hole.

BY : Khawaja Hamad

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Let the flowers be filled with color

Let the flowers be filled with color,
Let the first soft breeze of the spring flow.

Do come over,
So the garden can get on with it’s daily business.

Let the flowers be filled with color,
Let the first soft breeze of the spring flow.

Gloom reigns in the cage,
My friends do say something to the breeze,
Somewhere, For God’s sake,
There must be discussion about the Beloved today.

Do come over,
So the garden can get on with it’s daily business.

Let the flowers be filled with color,
Let the first soft breeze of the spring flow.

 

Faiz Ahmed Faiz

 

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Road Trip

 

Germany, Switzerland, Italy and Austria. +2500 KM drive into count less small villages, towns and big cities. Just a few Images from my road trip, I am not much of a  photographer and like to enjoy the moments, rather than to be worried about taking pictures like most people seem to these days.

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I am …

I am a shattered firefly , I am a misspelled word, I am a poet insane,
Who will tell me my script? I am a writer in Pain.

I am a misplaced dream, I am an irretrievable tear, I am the ecstasy betrayed,
Who will guide me to shore? I am a sailor astray.

I am an unheard voice, I am a forgotten song, I am the dance ignored,
Who will listen to me ? I am a drinker absorbed.

I am a broken heart, I am a lost traveler, I am a searching soul,
Who will tell me my way? I am a lover in despair.

BY: Khawaja Hamad

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Travel

Hi, it’s been a great pleasure sharing my poetry and travels with all of you on WordPress. I am extremely sorry that I have not been able to reply to comments and be more interactive on this blog. All your comments, love and support for my poetry on this blog has really motivated to keep on writing, I am very greatful to all of you. Thank you!

I have recently been unable to write much poetry as I have been caught up in this materialistic world we live in and haven’t gotten to travel as much because of work & other problems. I am a Software Engineer by profession and will most likely end up writing more Code than Poetry in my lifetime.

For me to write poetry I need some form of inspiration which usually comes from listening to music or reading other poets, Programming doesn’t help at all. But the soul and ones imagination is truly opened to writing meaningful poetry when one is able to travel and experience nature. Poetry is written from the bottom of the heart and It is either Traveling or Wine that is mostly responsible for unleashing a poets true ability to write.

Good News is that, Hopefully I will be traveling across Europe in a couple of days and will be able to get back to my natural state of ; peace of mind and soul. Then be able to write more poems. I think I will not be able to blog during my trip and will most likely compose new blog posts when I come back to the States. That is why if you wish you can follow me on snapchat or Instagram where I will be sharing my travels more often.

Instagram : khawajahamad217

Snapchat: khawajahamad

Goodbye!

 

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Sangam

From the city hidden behind a hundred mountains,
At the bank of Jhelum as I stand,
I write a poem for my dear homeland.

I dream of moments that bring me back to such a time,
I dream of me at the top of a mountain, sitting next to a sufi shrine.

I yearn the rivers that run through the city, like the desire for freedom,
runs through our blood,
I yearn a gardened red fort for the night, rain such, making the earth become mud.

I remember you in every unfulfilled season I experience in exile,
In every journey I take, all distances I cover, every mile.

The soft wind is calling for me, Beloved don’t close your eyes,
Just a few more moments, we will meet again near Sangam at sunrise.

BY : Khawaja Hamad

Sangam : Specifically referring to location where river Neelum and Jhelum meet in Muzaffarabad City. Two things meeting one another is known as sangam.
Red fort : A fort located near the banks of Neelum river in Muzaffarabad, Kashmir.
Jhelum: One of the many rivers that flow through Kashmir.
Sufi Shrine: Referring to Peerchanasi in Muzaffarabad, that beds the shrine of sufi Pir Shah Hussain Bukhara. 

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Eyes

She lives in her eyes,
In an ocean of tears.

She dreams with a quiver,
In endless fear.

Life drowns in her beautiful eyes,
But, she sails away like a butterfly.

Saqi! Silently, Give me a cup of wine,
Save me from what God created so divine.

Her eyes open, it’s when love takes a turn,
This soul is sold, this Heart is burnt.

BY: Khawaja Hamad

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My heart is but a child !

My heart is but a child !
Innocent but naive my heart is but a child.
———————————-
The sight of her binds me and I can’t look away,
This silky strand, I can’t tear away,
Its’ been years since I’ve turned grey,
Yet the color of youth refuses to fade away,
Oh! and now my heart beats faster,
My face is losing it’s color,
I fear those lonely nights,
Who’d knew I’d given shelter,
to such a roguish heart,
Forever I imagined it would be,
As virtuous as me,
Oh! it pulls me at,
It makes such a racket,
It gives undue importance to trivial things,
Nothing more devious than the heart,
Someone stop me ,
Someone hold me,
Or else I will be deceived,
And now I fear I will fall in love.
 ————————-
My heart is but a child !
Innocent but naive my heart is but a child.
Gulzar

I wonder

I wonder…..

I wonder if my whispered songs reach his ears, giving such an overwhelming emotion that it would drown him in tears.

I wonder if he sees me in the stars and in the moonlight shining and glittering upon his skin,

I wonder if my smile ever greeted his face like the rising sunrise kissing the morning skies.

I wonder if he tastes me in the clouds of smoke, threatening to burn and purify his lungs of love long lost.

I know this for certain…..

I will write to my beloved in my entire existence, from my breath, the way I leave my favorite books scattered, And, how I hate suffocating among crowds of people, yet continuing to search for years just to see a glimpse of true loves face.

My apologies will be given in sincerest form, a kiss, the washing of your favorite shirt stained with my mistakes,

And time will show you that no other would go to the ends of the earth to rectify the wrongs.

Love can heal, words can mend, and I’ll remove the cup of sorrows from your worn hand,

Then, my eyes will entice you to believe in the innocence of youth again.

I found your poems and read each one aloud, knowing from the first touch of my fingers against the inked page,

That I would forever be yours, a captive to your scarred heart.

BY: Summer Alyse

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