Aadil Ghulam Bhat

  I silenced the rain. That comes every night. But this day, It would have been teasing. Eyes had been separated for centuries. Are shocked by their shadows. Ages have passed, so lonely. Even if they lose their hands, They don't leave. Don't break the moment. From the branches of time. Every night you fall asleep. In your nightmare Send punishments. I've sent my flaws. This is a poem with an ambiguous meaning that can be interpreted in various ways. The theme revolves around the feeling of loneliness, separation, and the fear of being punished for one's flaws. The first line, "I silenced the rain that comes every night," can be seen as a metaphor for the speaker's attempt to suppress the constant noise and chaos in their life. The next line, "But this day, it would have been teasing," indicates that the speaker is perhaps seeking solitude and quietness. The line "Eyes had been separated for centuries" portrays the idea of being separate...

Let me not to the accredited of fake promises To me, fair you, you never can be old, You see my antique pen would have expressed Even such a beauty as you alter now. I Have eyes to wonder,  but lack words to praise. Yes my love, swears that you are made of truth I do believe on both sides  thus is simple truth suppress’d You are water to life and I'm soul to fire. So long as you can breathe, or eyes can see, So long lives this, and this  gives life to me. The poem is actually a sonnet written by Aadil Ghulam Bhat that speaks of a love that is so strong and true that it transcends time and space. The poet declares that he will not be swayed by false promises, and that the beauty of his love is eternal and unchanging. He compares his beloved to a work of art that cannot be altered, even by the passage of time. The poet is in awe of his beloved's beauty and acknowledges that his words are inadequate to express the depth of his admiration. The poem expresses the belief that t...

And when my blithe queue Died for isolation, I only remember my Dead memory of pale joy. I proclaimed my solitariness From uneven dead joy. And when I come Weeping and go crying. However, you only come Smiling and go laughing. I have seen thousand countenance Of masked face, fake smiles Where I was imprisoned. And I cry ...... and cry. I have nothing to forgive. My thirst was not quenched Even with my own blood. Can such pain be forgiven.... No, never, not at all...................! Theme: Emotional Pain and Isolation The poem portrays a deep sense of emotional pain and isolation felt by the speaker. The theme of the poem revolves around the feelings of loneliness, sorrow, and betrayal. The poem expresses the speaker's frustration and inability to find solace in their surroundings, leading to a sense of hopelessness and despair. The speaker describes a sense of detachment from their previous life and experiences. The opening lines, "And when my blithe queue/ Died for isolation...

Why, the moon knows. Why did you cry last night? The moon knows, why? It was you who left me. I was not enough, I know I was half loved, every time Tried to fix my blurred, Faded and incomplete way Just a quadrupled gesture Just an outraged and withered Part that has faded me, Plucked me out. It was just hard to unlove . Never can the sun shine, To end the never ending gloom. The theme of this poem is heartbreak and the pain of unrequited love. The speaker expresses their feelings of hurt and betrayal as they mourn the loss of their love. They are struggling to come to terms with the fact that they were not enough for their lover, and they were only ever half-loved. The theme of heartbreak is evident in the way the speaker describes their emotions, using words such as "blurry," "faded," and "incomplete." The poem revolves around the metaphor of the moon, representing the unknown and the uncertain. The moon is often used to symbolize emotions, and in this c...

  As I, fumbling with horror, Rushing towards the terror, Gazing at padlocks of chains, I the prisoner of outrage.  Windowless walls, Breathless expectancy, Questioning the misty night, Stucked within rusty bars. That anguish of the anger Absolves my fate,and Fighting with my angry soul,  Will free me from prison of outrage. The theme of the above poem is the experience of being imprisoned by one's own anger and the struggle to overcome it. The speaker describes feeling trapped and helpless in the face of their emotions, which have become like chains and walls that keep them locked in a state of turmoil. The poem opens with a sense of urgency and horror as the speaker rushes towards some unknown danger. They are metaphorically imprisoned by their own anger, which is depicted as physical chains and padlocks. The windowless walls suggest a sense of claustrophobia and isolation, while the misty night adds to the sense of uncertainty and unease. As the poem progresses, the sp...

Through withering laurels , aloofness trapped me inside.  I'm yet going and being shunned.  The silence of aloneness nagged me inside.  I'm digging my grave to shun to  be enslaved.  The sword of shinning blade, chopped My shield of ecstasy soul,  My blithe chains to blood streams,  My sunny days to cruel and awful nights.  When my songs, my cries, my silences Were being heard days after i was slain.  As i in the cradle of grave much scorned My defeat, the blade of defeat reached my fullness. The theme of the given poem is the feeling of being trapped in a cycle of defeat, aloofness, and loneliness. The speaker expresses their struggle to break free from this cycle, but ultimately succumbs to it. They feel as if they are being shunned and ignored by others, which exacerbates their feelings of isolation. Despite their attempts to resist, they ultimately give in and allow themselves to be enslaved by their own defeat. The imagery used throughou...

I may seek the lonelier way Where i fill my another day In the wind of dark fears,  I'm soundless, Ay..... Return my years.  Yet the mist reposing within me And of painful nights to gridled destiny.  In the solitude of dark mist, i stood Begging to return my lost years from hood.  The day will end now, walk to sky,  In the solitude of my souls, i cry.  From the cage of tyranny, all i bears,  I'm Upwrought with confusion, return my years.  My  new book is now available in paperback format Click the link below to buy with discount....  BUY NOW AT NOTION PRESS. Promo code " ADILGULAM54" Only for First 100 costumers ~  NEXT.......... > Author's note  Myself Adil ghulam bhat, I am a poet and the author of a poetry book (100 years of my painful nights). Poetry does not have such tips because it is the art of expressing emotions, feelings and can never be based on tips. Poetry is a profound literature and plays a role with proper s...

A wingless bird springs on the back of the wind.  With tied feet clipped wing floats down to ground.  His slow return, silent walk, crawling like a blind.  Skinned into the warm embraces, bursting tiny wound.  With the gridled nights, with eloquent  Sorrow,  With a fearful trill, with his soulful cries.  What will be exalted, be enthroned or to be enslaved, And now he called ofhandedly, " I will still arise". As slave of a tyrant winds, sings a song to be free.  The caged bird, wingless bird, that's me, that's me.  Also Read I FEEL PAIN ONCE AGAIN OLD MEMORIES PERSECUTE ~  NEXT.......... > Author's note  Myself Adil ghulam bhat, I am a poet and the author of a poetry book (100 years of my painful nights). Poetry does not have such tips because it is the art of expressing emotions, feelings and can never be based on tips. Poetry is a profound literature and plays a role with proper system.  A creative writing technique is usu...

Thy dear steps are in bloom. Haven't you heard my scream? In far off woods, lonely I stood !  Worse things i have been endured.  Behold I shine, my ashes fling ! Upon me look ! Chop this string Come, let us ascend now to mead.  Throbbing beats, haven't you heard.  The dazzling dew on tips of grass,  A swishing sound like of brass,  The singing dove in woods call.  A restless brook appeared for all.  Each evening thy moments recall.  My mind has run astray, all and fall.  If the worst is bound to happen and troll I neither dubbed nor foozled the soul. ~  NEXT.......... > Read also .  Song of my soul Fall on deaf ears Author's note  Myself Adil ghulam bhat, I am a poet and the author of a poetry book (100 years of my painful nights). Poetry does not have such tips because it is the art of expressing emotions, feelings and can never be based on tips. Poetry is a profound literature and plays a role with proper system....

Ashes from my door, i fling!  How can i frost my cling ?  The shower bird surely will bring,  The breeze to soul, curative thing.  Sleepless nights go, trees will sing.  Like the shrieking birds in spring.  And the thoughts of solemn wing.  Will burn painful logs, then wring Every state of soaring and suffering.  And sleepless stream of broken string.  I have owed an endless longing, Like the eternal broken arm on a sling.  ~  NEXT.......... > Author's note  Myself Adil ghulam bhat, I am a poet and the author of a poetry book (100 years of my painful nights). Poetry does not have such tips because it is the art of expressing emotions, feelings and can never be based on tips. Poetry is a profound literature and plays a role with proper system.  A creative writing technique is usually characterized by a certain rhythm and style. The modern poet wears many hats: he can write ghazals, produce commercial genre, create poetry...

Dingle I cover with Roses for you, Come, my leman of Narcissus! Come, let me gather fresh Nilofer for you, How memorable were these hours with hue! Deeply the heart is asleep, in lap of you!  Mallows have bloomed in the parterre view,  Still, no sunrise has crossed from you,  Garland of flowers I keep. i sleepless go. Where are you?  What if they bloom only in front of me? Who has been able to change their destiny? Come, my leman of jasmine, come ! ~  NEXT.......... > https://adilgulambhat.blogspot.com/2022/01/blasphemy-of-heart.html?m=1 Aadil Ghulam bhat Author's note Myself Adil ghulam bhat, I am a poet and the author of a poetry book (100 years of my painful nights). Poetry does not have such tips because it is the art of expressing emotions, feelings and can never be based on tips. Poetry is a profound literature and plays a role with proper system.  A creative writing technique is usually characterized by a certain rhythm and style. The modern poet...

  In vales, i have lost my truce.  When will you come?  I cry, while you are still duce.  I the solemn and numb!  O, where is now the love light.  I'm waiting still.  The loving accent of the night,  The golden breathes that fill,  The desperation of your meet.  The eyes i want to adorn,  My love, thou are sweet.  Why i seem to be torn Tears, for your sake.  Relieve me with fragrant kiss.  How could i block the lake Hold me and turn into bliss.  ~  NEXT.......... > Author's note  Myself Adil ghulam bhat, I am a poet and the author of a poetry book (100 years of my painful nights). Poetry does not have such tips because it is the art of expressing emotions, feelings and can never be based on tips. Poetry is a profound literature and plays a role with proper system.  A creative writing technique is usually characterized by a certain rhythm and style. The modern poet wears many hats: he can write g...

  Amidst the days of joyful mirth, When thrown my presence to the earth Among the gentle thoughts that arise. Evoked bright tears of joy and love in my eyes.  And your voice was left behind , To tell, between the magical wind, How many times you smiled and stood !  Even all that was majorly good.  The day you brought an actual sunrise, when Your glowing words in loving accent held then,  Happiness lined up in my slipstream,  In a single cap of nights, so rarest dream.  NEXT.......... > Author's note  Myself Adil ghulam bhat, I am a poet and the author of a poetry book (100 years of my painful nights). Poetry does not have such tips because it is the art of expressing emotions, feelings and can never be based on tips. Poetry is a profound literature and plays a role with proper system.  A creative writing technique is usually characterized by a certain rhythm and style. The modern poet wears many hats: he can write ghazals, produce commerci...

let the soul be convention, of kindred spirit Be humble to mind, not of heart.  Choose the path leading to salvation of dictator.  Of the day it will ruin the existence.  Agreeing the voice of selfish heart will,  Drag to the path full of blasphemy.   Two paths crossed into the salvation Right taken by mind, left taken by heart.   May be, heart will rein the ignoble gesture The mind always has a plan to play the game,  To understand, to know, to be a very kind.  Having the control over mind over heart will,  Lead the path to salvation, to salvate the soul.  And the salvated soul is the key of existence. ~  NEXT.......... > Author's note   Myself Adil ghulam bhat, I am a poet and the author of a poetry book (100 years of my painful nights). Poetry does not have such tips because it is the art of expressing emotions, feelings and can never be based on tips. Poetry is a profound literature and plays a role with proper system....

  Blithely with an approbation, blessed with inclination,  Where there were merchants of elation.  when they walked together, wisphered with soft words,  They saw a strange vendor of small happiness.  Awakes, unwinds, elaborately reluctant, affable and hard to know.  There was a little lightning in their eyes, mouth and brow.  The merchants went to the door of vendor at eve, And they spoke the vendor for all the burden. Till they lose all measure of pace, fixity in their joys, I was the vendor of small happiness, felt a spirit kindred to my own.  NEXT.......... > Author's note   Myself Adil ghulam bhat, I am a poet and the author of a poetry book (100 years of my painful nights). Poetry does not have such tips because it is the art of expressing emotions, feelings and can never be based on tips. Poetry is a profound literature and plays a role with proper system.  A creative writing technique is usually characterized by a certain rhyt...

  The low winds moan, the true silence is.  The silence of falling salvation is this.  There is silence of striking antique palace,  Silence to echoes of filthy and malice.  like a passing night among the gazing stars,  The extreme silence after the death in wars.  The grave of cadaver leaving after burial,  Is the silence, all silence as dark night.  Profound  secrets, fuss back again toward first silence.  From open skies, who speaks to us.  Truth is replaced by silence, the silence became lie.  Silence, silence, silence,  became soul to salvation.  Author's note   Myself Adil ghulam bhat, I am a poet and the author of a poetry book (100 years of my painful nights). Poetry does not have such tips because it is the art of expressing emotions, feelings and can never be based on tips. Poetry is a profound literature and plays a role with proper system.  A creative writing technique is usually characteriz...

Half a breath, half a mirth,  Half a league, to the road of  death.  Accusations to the right,  Accusations to the left,  Accusations  to the back,  Accusations in front of us,  Keep us in the remorse,  Those regrets from this mortal world.  There is none to make happy,  There is none to glow smile,  There is none to make horse hold Half a lie, half a truth,  Half a league, to the road of false notion.  Author's note   Myself Adil ghulam bhat, I am a poet and the author of a poetry book (100 years of my painful nights). Poetry does not have such tips because it is the art of expressing emotions, feelings and can never be based on tips. Poetry is a profound literature and plays a role with proper system.  A creative writing technique is usually characterized by a certain rhythm and style. The modern poet wears many hats: he can write ghazals, produce commercial genre, create poetry books, write for greeting c...