Poems

Three Expressions
Muhammad Shanazar

The world goes on, but sans guardians,
They are busy in trades of gold and silk,
And he-cats, a group of five, at present
Has been employed to watch milk.

Here I relate expressions
Of the three dying kids in Palestine,
A dying child said to the cameraman,
“I shall complain to God,
Your world is unguarded, insecure,
None spoke a word on my death.”

The other said looking up,
“O! God, send your angel
To pick me away to the heaven,
So that I may have enough food and water,
I am dying but hungry and thirsty.”

A little injured girl with a least hope of life,
While running said to the journalist,
“Don’t make my movie, I am but without Hijaab.”

Throughout my life I preached for peace,
Now I am confirmed, I am but helpless,
The authority lies with bullies and beasts,
They safeguard only their own interests,
But in the name of faith and religion
And they have changed the world into a prison.

I foresee, we shall have to face for our silence,
God is going to avenge this all,
He will either shake the earth,
Or unleash the army of waves
That will drag us down with the fiery weapons,
Or he will madden some baldheaded leader,
To push the button, then all will be astonished,
For the heinous crime of killing the kids
Will never go scot-free and unpunished.



How Ended 2023
Muhammad Shanazar

I remember,
It was the last eve of December,
The red sun was about to descend.
Just in front of the hovel,
There sat five giant-sized human beings,
Around a penta-dimension table.
The plain around them was wide extended,
With dry withering sedge.

Upon the table they kept
Large bottles of champagne,
As big as jars made of porcelain,
There they placed beside a rope like objects
They grew out of their legs,
Might be a yard and half in length,
As thick as a rope that we use to haul and tow,
A ship or an engine when out of order,
They all had round knots on the end.

When the five giants were busy in chit-chat,
Red clouds appeared in the sky,
Harsh wind began to blow,
It didn't waft along dried leaves or dust,
But skulls and limbs of the human beings.
The giants in panic took bottles in one hand
And in the other they managed their ropes,
On the crooked arms.

They all went into the hovel,
It hardly could adjust the five,
Their rope like objects remained outside,
The red clouds encroached
They began to pour down rain of blood,
Redness of the sun mixed and mingled
Into the redness of clouds,
The whole sky, even the universe,
Seemed all red red.

A man taller and bigger than the giants,
Sturdy with big muscles,
Resembling some ancient executioner,
Appeared and stood in front of the hovel,
He had an axe hung on his left shoulder,
And in the right hand he had a boulder.

He addressed them,
"Gentlemen! Manage your Vetoes inside the hovel,
Out of rain, else I shall cut them in twain,
And then you all will be free of your gadgets."
In the meanwhile the sun descended,
And two thousand twenty three ended.


The Skull of Cain
Muhammad Shanazar
In a dream, I dreamt a skull,
It roved street to street,
And stopped in front of me where I stood
It was freshly skinned,
From inside it was a hollow bin,
When it spoke, only its jaws moved,
It uttered wise things, rather the wisest,
But most of them were unintelligible to me,
I bent and peeped into and found,
Neither any tongue nor brain,
The whole thing
Imparted me nothing but pain.

It said,
“I am the inventor of the ways,
How a man murders a man,
The whole credit goes to me,
Whether one is killed in a family conflict,
Or on the battle plain,
I am the skull of Cain.”
Then it went away and spoke no more,
Perhaps its voice submerged in the roar.

The Skull of Victory
(Written in the background of war between Israel and Palestine)
Muhammad Shanazar

In the morn, in the eve,
At night, at the sunny hours of noon,
Boom, boom, boom.

The dead bodies of men and women,
Cadavers of kids,
Shredded flesh of life,
Bones of hopes,
The injured carrying the injured,
Coffins of peace
Being shouldered by the processions,
Mad dogs of horror roving in the streets,
Flying adders in the airs,
Myriad streaks of smokes,
Mushrooms rising up to the sky,
Debris of the future,
Cages of pain wrapped in cries,
Stench of the burning innocence,
The uniformed men of military,
Carrying the gadgets of bloodshed,
Callousness whispering into the ears of silence,
An encroaching anaconda of the final catastrophe,
The wealth of hunger,
Are gifts of the United Nations.

The world ever moved on but sans patronage,
All he-cats were assigned to guard,
The bowl of milk taken out
From breasts of the step mother,
Now the Five Major sit with adjoining heads,
They rake up ashes with the poker of Veto,
And search for the skull of victory.



A Whisper from the Abyss
Muhammad Shanazar

You may find opportunities to do good deeds,
They are scattered around us,
Sometime petty and sometime great,
But we all prefer to do the heroic ones,
And ignore the actions of small importance.

I was cutting the heads of sunflower crop,
And thought to have rest in the cool shade of palai,
Just a hundred yards away,
I saw a man sitting on the edge of a farm,
He let loose three cows to graze,
He watched them lest they should go astray,
Besides, the cattle's presence
In front of the shepherd consoles his eyes.

Sometimes he got up to put them close,
As he walked, I noticed he was a lame person,
He might have had polio in his childhood,
He was attending his cows in the hot sun,
It was almost twelve o'clock, and the day of June.

In the cool shade of palai,
I thought to have a drink, I had a bottle with me,
It was ice but then melted into cold water,
As soon as I placed it on my lips,
A thought like flashing came to my mind,
The shepherd might been thirsty too,
He had nothing with himself
And his village was two and a half mile away.

I held the bottle under my arm and went to him,
I offered him the drink but first he shook his head,
As if he was shy a little,
Hesitant or suspicious on my intent,
He was wearing white turban of the faded cloth,
He also had a small axe with a long haft,
He took the bottle impatiently,
Pressed it between both of the knees,
While he opened the lid, I noticed,
His both arms shivering
Because of weakness or some malady.

Then he placed the bottle on his lips
And just in a few seconds,
He gulped down water more than half of the bottle,
Then tightening the lid he returned it to me,
He raised his right hand and made a gesture of gratitude,
Then I knew he was dumb too.

I came back in the shade of palai,
I had some spiritual satisfaction and felicity,
I began to wonder on my past life,
I didn't have such a deed in my scroll of actions,
Someone from the abyss of my heart whispered to me, "There may be some heroic deeds,
But no greater than offering water, to some thirsty soul,
It is even greater than moving on foot,
From one to another pole."


Consternation
Muhammad Shanazar

Just today, early in the morn,
I visited my sunflower farm,
Several newly bloomed flowers welcomed me,
All were facing to the East,
Looking in the sky with yellow faces,
As some time we see in the lab of NASA,
The scientists look in consternation,
To the same direction, unmoved, with fixed eyes,
On finding some new discovery,
Or horrific danger encroaching the Earth,
In the same manner,
All sunflowers looked in the sky,
To the same direction, unmoved, with fixed eyes,
But the Sun was behind the clouds.


A Cracked Dome of Mirror
(In memory of my aunt Suryya who died on 17 Jan. 2023)
Muhammad Shanazar

Memories,
Of the spent years are crumbs of time,
Now I sit and collect the shards,
Some seem pleasant and some poignant,
Life in the end seems
Nothing but a cracked dome of mirrors,
Each emits its own reflection.

Oh! My aunt,
My heart weeps and wail for you,
Though the sensible call it stupidity,
My heart and mind are not convinced,
That you are gone,
I feel, you just played hide and seek
As you had had in my early days,
My mother bore me and you brought me up,
Even when I am in sixties
And had a sojourn at the village,
You played a triple role,
Of mother, of friend and of guard.
 
There is a lot to remember
But memories are muddled,
I have lost myself in maze of recollections,
Only I remember
The last days that I spent with you,
And when I worked
To remove debris of the old house,
And I had to push a hand cart to throw out stones,
At each third turn
You had to offer a glass of milk,
And whenever I departed to come back,
You stood still
Like a statute on the edge of farm,
Till my figure vanished you remained there.

I feel myself lucky
That you breathed last in my arms,
It took a moment,
Life flew to the valley of death,
Ah! They both have difference
Of the pause of breath.



Biography of Pakistani eminent poet Muhammad Shanazar

Muhammad Shanazar, an Internationally renowned Pakistani eminent poet and translator, was born on November 25, 1960, at Saib, a village of Tehsil Gujar Khan in District Rawalpindi, Pakistan.  In his childhood he did different kinds of work, he farmed the land, grazed cattle, cut grass, sold vegetables, and cut wood for fuel. But at the same time he took keen interest in education. He holds Masters Degrees in English Literature and Political Science from University of the Punjab. Having done masters in literature, he started his career as constable in Police Department and served there for three years. He then joined as a lecturer in Higher Education Department, Govt. of the Punjab. Education and hardworking demeanour have taken him to the heights of success. He has dedicated his life to education and literature. He worked there for 34 years and just recently got retirement as an Associate Professor of English Language and Literature. In addition to teaching, he concentrated literature and in a short time he emerged as a poet and translator.  Several world academies bestowed upon him honourary Ph.Ds.  He met two severe shocks his life, his father was murdered in 1990 and his mother died in a road accident in 1996.







Muhammad Shanazar writes poetry against war, the pieces his literary work have been published in various national and international newspapers and magazines all over the world. Moreover, his many poems have included in various international anthologies as a co-author. His published and books are: Gems, The Cold Stars, The Dance of Darkness, Cries in the Wilderness, Voyages and Visions and published  books  are The Black Roses, The Scent of Love, Bells of The Bygone Days, Chillies and Aftermath which will be published soon in near future.  His translated books are: The Alien Eyes, Wrist in the Clutches of Death, A Tempest in Silence, Sugar Coated, Symphony and Other Poems, Snowy Sunlight, The Coin of Death, A Garland of Poems, Withering Dreams, Down the Blue Streams, Hot Springs, A Saga of Love, The Crop of Stars and Khairi Mourat.

Muhammad Shanazar the recipient of more than 250 awards, honours and titles, these have been  bestowed by various literary and peace loving  organizations around the world in recognition of his literary excellence and commitments. A few are like: Universal Inspirational Poet, World Icon of Peace, 1st Four Stars Ambassador in the World, Extraordinary Ambassador for Gratis Culture, World Laureate in Literature-2017, Pride of the Globe, The World Best Poet-2017, Ambassador of Humanity, Ambassador De Literature, Global Literature Guardian Award-2018, World Icon of Literature, World Ambassador of Literature, Living Legend of 21st Century, Mentor of World literature, HIS EXCELLENCY Yasser Arafat Peace Award-2019, Order of Shakespeare Medal-2021, Abu Nasr Ibn Muhammad Al-Farabi Award, Paragon of Hope, Hall of Honor-2020, World Peace Grand Award, Kairat Parman Medal, Cesar Vallejo Award-2020  The Legend Poet of the Millennium etc.

Muhammad Shanazar is involved with famous organizations in different countries of the world like IHRO and Amnesty International. He is a lifelong member of the IPTRC of China, the International Writers' Association of the United States, Senator of the Parliament of World Literature, Dean, Poetry Critic, and an Evaluator of the Academy of Literature Excellence and Wisdom of Motivational Strips. He is the Secretary General of the World Institute for Peace Nigeria, the Second Secretary General of the World Union of Poets, and the First Vice President of the World Nation Writers Union, Kazakhstan.  He had the honour to deliver inaugural address on ‘Education and our Future Needs’ to The World Knowledge Summit 2021, held in Mexico, on 18th August 2021, he also had the honour to address on peace, the military leadership of Bolivia on 27th August 2021, in which he spoke in favour of ‘Global Federation of World’s Nations’. Currently, he is leading a retired but an active life.