For ~ Poets United Midweek Motif ~ 2019 Year’s End ~ Writing is Best for Survival ~

Dear  Friends, evening draws near, birds fly home to  safe nests
another sunrise awaits, has humanity passed all trials and tests?
Last sunset or first sunrise, every year ends.This day too shall pass.
Schools will open, traffic will move, children will go to their class.
Year’s end or a new beginning, wars continue, never ending killing,
if  wisdom  prevails, instead of bombing, there will be  friendly singing.year ends , on days of miracles, celebration blessings and forgiving
fruit cakes, puddings, gifts, presents,family meetings and bells ringing,

each year has time,temperature and turmoil
this too had suspense, stormy  surprises
ambushes attacks  armed  protests
beauty  behind barricades
ecosystem changes
environmental disasters
joyful achievements and losses
lockouts lock downs
shootings in holy places
In all poets and writers , read  recited
wrote for peace joy and stood united
New time will bring good tidings
Hope is always there.

Poetic Power ~ Hoping for Peace ~ The Longest Lock Down~ Beginning or Ending 2019 ~


Peace has been in prayers all over the world
peace has not prevailed yet, all over the world

Humans have tried, humans have sacrificed
humans have fought, humans all, have tried,

poets have written poets have cried,lamented
poets have raised their voices, spoken,repented

Fear, tear, smear, protests placards slogans arise
humans advise, improvise, revise, disguise,apprise,

fog descends,snakes around offices,
grey and yellow, rubs itself against
broken bridges,
floats over distorted ditches, over
craters jolting tyres,
black puddles,
scary edges,
yellow lights, brides ready, hoping-
unknown happenings
deserted streets
deaths,cold blooded
Peace longs to touch limping limbs,

as humans advise, improvise, devise,disguise,revise


© 2019 Anjum Wasim Dar



Poetic Power ~ No Tears Please !



sdr© CER  2019

No tears please, there are enough, falling,
No cries please, there are enough, calling,

No guns please, there are enough, killing,
No pellets please, there are enough, blinding,

No batons please, there are enough, hitting,
No knives please,there are enough,stabbing,

No shells please,there are enough, bursting,
No bombs please,there are enough,blasting,

Ashes,bricks,stones, windows shattered, no
Homes, just battered buildings, scattered,

no reason,
Just hate
a mad race
to conquer,command,control,
wash away the rainbows,
make all landscape,grey, away
bloody red is clay
what a night, what a day,
fog or smog or tear gas smoke

No tears please,there are enough, falling

© 2019 Anjum Wasim Dar



For POETS UNITED Midweek Motif ‘Change’ ~ Change is the Name of a Game’


Change is the name of
a game we used to play in
childhood with all friends

Change had many names
it had a clap and a snap
it was so much fun

we changed with each clap
snap snap from orange to red
from color to fruits

from fruits to veges
from veges to animals
and on to flowers

change never ended
change was always quick to come
change was not a trick

change is now climate
change is now mood of weather
change is everything

It is good to change
nature loves variety
change is life anew

Poetic Power ~ 117 Days ~ O’ Kashmir I Grieve Thee ~

Image Courtesy


O Kashmir how I grieve thee grieve thee, I do
O Kashmir, I had to say goodbye then,but I had
hope to return ,one day,
I am glad I did not see the fading beautiful sight
of the lotus studded lake, the white pure snowy
peaks, the elegant graceful Chinaars embroidered
with autumnal hues’,
I am glad I did not see the shivering pansies in the
flower bed rows, tender lives of innocent children
coffin draped laid with weeping woes;
I am glad I did not see the pale faces of young widows
staring stony faced in wooden window frames,
I am glad I did not see the bloodied streets, closed shutters
the stones that littered the empty roads
I have hope to return , one day-

For POETS UNITED Midweek Motif ~ Winters ~ Give Me A Reason~


hazy misty mornings, half fingers numb
engines struggling to clear their throats
mixing smoke in smokey air, quite unfair
kids huddle towards school, blue in caps

and in some faces pale, anxiously walk
lest  they be late, to write n chalk-
why do we have school in this  chilly
season,  ‘give me a reason,one reason’

so many on streets , half clad, hungry
no kleenex for  the noses running, red
smiling weakly, happy they must  be
Be happy please, they have no tests –

winter  is  white winter is  dry but
not everywhere, half the world has
Summer, hot and warm, nature is
kind,  and so we  all must  try to be

With kindness
give love and warmth in  Winter
spread joy and coolness in Summer



FOR ~Poets United: Midweek Motif ~ A Million Years Howl When Voices Whisper Among The Trees ~


Evening shadows fell all over the lane
soon one could not discern the window pane
this one tree out of three we planted -gave
relief to heated pain, saved all from rain

but that evening it was pitch dark, the car
was parked in the shade, but wait -a sound
strange could be heard, the flurry rapid
flight of birds,small dark swooping round

left to right and right to left, flying in and
falling flat,disappearing from darkly sight
could hardly see them in the dim light-
not at full glare,wanted the birds to fly away scared.

But no,they kept coming and hovering around the car
preventing anyone from opening the door-what next
as fear increased -who had sent these bat-birds here?
small black sharp and shrill, recitation of holy verses

finally made the kill-all flew away as quickly as they
had come, and hoping that all had gone , we took the
back seat, the food basket in between us placed,
dinner to deliver at the hospital gate, trembling still

at the bat attack, cautiously moved on to the road
hardly a furlong had we gone,when sister let out
a loud scream-something shuffling, flapping dark –
Stop the car Oh Stop- Another scream, a loud screech

door crashed open-out flew a dark black bat,
somehow it had clasped the basket, and had
slipped inside -never ever so terrified  was I
that night, Halloween or magic – wondered Why?

But then we knew Mother would not be with us
for long, doctors helpless signaled the Swan Song’
with food for Mother we were going, when Bats
flew around –  Myths say they warn of Death –

soon soon Mother would be without life
without breath- to Heaven taken, to Heaven