Poems

2010 – A Remembrance

In the deserts of life They danced To the smiles and cries Of the only flower Blooming in their garden Of hope. They protected him From everything. Even hid him From the thorns That belonged to him That identified with him. But they! They kept him Floating in serene waters Away from the thorns And the...

The Glory – A Poem

Here is a tribute to the heroes who sacrifice their today for the betterment of our tomorrow. Bare Chests and open eyes against formidable power Out under the dark sky, the pensive mood has lifted everyone The solitude and melancholy are togetherly shared The loss is unitedly grieved The...

Sing Me Freedom, Sing Me Cries

sing me blood, sing me life sing me a story, sing a prise sing me revolution, sing me fear sing me martyrdom, sing me tears sing me bullets, sing me cries sing me lullaby, sing me souls sing me truth, sing a corps sing me hope,...

Tribute To Chadoora And Their Description

  Descriptions of  the Martyrs: (By Omair Bhat) 1) Saqib - wears a cap. torn jeans. beard has not sprouted yet, maybe, still a boy, a very young boy. Eyes: the color of the brass moon. in a recent photograph, on Facebook, standing against a wall, he is...

THE WAILING EID

The wailing Eid proclaims the dawn of happiness But how would people listen When their ears covered with wails and screams? How would they see the decoration of joy? When their mystic home is coated with blood? How would they see the crescent moon When their kids are butchered in...

An Ode To Kunan Poshpora Horror – That Night Of Early Spring

That was a night of departing winter, spring would soon take its turn, Chilaikalan had left its last remnants all over. Dusk set in the valley of hope, morning would be better. The land was dressed in a majestic white, this night was unusually cold, the...

I Will Survive

You may curb my voice against your tyrant crown And beat me blue or blood brown You may strike my body down And tear it into shreds & yet not frown I ‘ve survived many such strokes by cruel crown I will survive ..I’ve survived…I always will survive. Whatever...

Three Coffins In A Row

Three in a line The coffins. Painted red Their bodies. They are moist The eyes. Bruised yet again The hearts. The question that haunts: For how long?  Young boys there Lay lifeless And the living Die Daily. For how long?  I ask! Send your contributions to write@withkashmir.com to get featured. Share...

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