I was born into a poverty stricken family in a village, Saib, Sub Division Gujarkhan District Rawalpindi, (The Plateau of Pothowar) on November 25,1960. We lived in a house made of stone and mud, but well maintained by my mother. I was brought up in a pastoral atmosphere very close to nature. Our village is surrounded with the thick forest which is a source fuel wood, besides grass it provides ... more »
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Muhammad Shanazar Poems
I wish I were a seasonal bird, That travels flying around the world, With sweet companionship of a partner, Whose heart knows nothing except,
A Deformed Angel
Sometimes life gives us severe shock, Undermines the plans and does block, The ways of wisdom leading ahead, Reveals the hands that secretly mock.
Why I Write?
When indelible memories of the past, Torment my heart and mind; I write. When mist floats in front of the eyes,
A lie though goes on unpunished, Is not to be concealed; The cheater though thousands of times, Beguiles the world whole,
Alongside the wide gray road stood I, To watch a procession passed by, Of the damsels, rather all in teen, Of the same size height and colour,
A Cottage Of Love Smashed
An old-man after the burial of two sons, A daughter and his aged faithful wife, Began to search contents of the cottage, With anxious perturbed eyes
21st CENTURY (Composed In 1998)
The added wisdom with the scornful use, Will add more to the human miseries. A century of conflicts, contending confusions, Blurring the minds, hearts, and vision,
O! Farzana: the daughter of Eve, You were alone to be stoned, The stoners were twenty five, They held in their hands the pieces of bricks,
A Forest in the Garden
A Gardener with saintly vision, Planted a garden making its division, Into the zones two.
A Guiding Whisper
Ah! My mind often brings me behind, To the unpolluted visionary age, When my heart wished to dissolve, Physical entity of my own being,
A Cargo of Sins
A sojourn in the sleep, Led me to the valley deep, I passed through forest thick, And high hills and crests,
Fondness For Destination
After sipping Drop after drop, And surviving After a fight against Death,
A Spectacle In The Twin Cities
In front of the Savours Was placed a trash container By the municipality, The people came and went back
A New Message
Let us remove together The dividing lines of race and colours, And wherever is the fire of odium, Let us extinguish it together,
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(31 May 1819 - 26 March 1892)
(31 October 1795 – 23 February 1821)
I wish I were a seasonal bird,
That travels flying around the world,
With sweet companionship of a partner,
Whose heart knows nothing except,
Faithfulness, how to share the pangs.
Then I fly with the delighted light heart,
Caring least the self made boundaries,
Of the countries or continents, across
The foaming wavy seas; to search,
The land, plains or isolated valleys,
Where neither one makes victim the other,
Nor playfully breaks the brittle hearts,
Nor does cast fear holding the fatal guns.
I would then chirp on the far off shores, ...