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One of the ancients,once said that poetry is "the mirror of the perfect soul." Instead of simply writing down travel notes or, not really thinking about the consequences, expressing your thoughts, memories or on paper, the poetic soul needs to seriously work hard to clothe the perfect content in an even more perfect poetic form.
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What is poetry?


Reading books RomanceThe unity of form and content is what distinguishes poetry from other areas of creativity. However, this is precisely what titanic work implies.
Not every citizen can become a poet. If almost every one of us, at different times, under the influence of certain reasons or trends, was engaged in writing his thoughts, then it is unlikely that the vast majority will be able to admit to themselves that they are a poet.
Genre of poetry touches such strings in the human soul, the existence of which a person either didn’t suspect, or lowered them to the very bottom, intending to give them delight.


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Opening a new collection of poems, the reader thus discovers a new world, a new thought, a new form. Rereading the classics, a person receives a magnificent aesthetic pleasure, which doesn’t disappear with the slamming of the book, but accompanies him for a very long time like a Muse. And it isn’t at all necessary to be a poet in order for the Muse to visit you. It is enough to pick up a volume, inside of which is Poetry. Be with us on our website.

Read books online » Poetry » RHYTHMS OF THE SOUL by By Muhammad Naveed Ahmed (Emmenay) (top 10 books to read TXT) 📖

Book online «RHYTHMS OF THE SOUL by By Muhammad Naveed Ahmed (Emmenay) (top 10 books to read TXT) 📖». Author By Muhammad Naveed Ahmed (Emmenay)



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actors, actresses and producer-cartoonist Walt Disney.


(87) ON THE STATE OF THE WORLD’S MUSLIMS

Ah, the state of the Islamic world!
How it makes me laugh...and laugh;
While the tears inside, long to gush out,
At the insults being hurled!
Enmeshed in rivalries are we,
And ethnic enmity,
How can we defend ourselves,
And defeat the enemy?
This worldly life has lured us away,
From the noble aims that held a sway,
For petty gains have we sold our souls,
And have wandered far astray.
There is a fool who stares at me,
And laughs at me incessantly,
Perhaps he thinks I am the one,
Who has, in fact, gone crazy.
O God! Let not the flickering flame die,
Let Islam's glory shine once more,
It is to You I address my sigh,
May the flag of truth always fly high.

(88) PRISM PHASE

Sunday morning looms,
Different shades,
Cast their effect on the heart.
A bird glides above,
Seeks support,
To land and nestle among dreams.
Mary Hopkins sings,
Recalls past,
In "Those were the days my friend".
Adnan Jaffar* glad,
Facebook friend,
Wants him to come more closer.
Moon has descended,
Stars remain,
And I keep thinking of you.

Mary Hopkins: A famous Welsh singer. *Adnan Jaffar: My friend in Karachi.

(89) SOARING

Bleak afternoon,
Weary heart and mind,
Cosmic blankness stares at world.
Sullen looks,
And dismal laughter,
Remind me of an old film.
Bergman*-like,
In a gas-lit street,
Your presence still pervades.
Liz Browning*,
And her fine love poems,
Lend life to a bygone theme.
Future stares,
Like a bright rainbow,
As you wave at me to soar.
Nothing now,
Seems important than,
You and me in sky’s caress.


Bergman: Actress Ingrid Bergman.
Liz Browning: English poetess and wife of Robert Browning.

(90) MYSTICAL MUSINGS

Let me vanish into eternity
Where I can be invisible
Where time and seasons don't exist
Where He* is, where I can "be"*.
Let no one come and preach here,
My prayer is a sincere tear,
Unlike the rituals of people,
My heart beats with love not fear.
My God and I are true not false,
Every sip I drink His Name calls,
The wine-cup draws me more nearer,
And I revel with my Creator.
So when the worldly day fades,
And when darkness everywhere pervades,
I bare my being to my God,
And denounce this world and Hades.*

He*: Refers to God Almighty.
Be*: God’s command.
Hades*: Death, underworld as mentioned in Greek literature.

***************THE END***************
Imprint

Text: ALL RIGHTS RESERVED BY THE AUTHOR MUHAMMAD NAVEED AHMED (EMMENAY). NO PART OF THIS BOOK CAN BE REPRODUCED IN PRINTED, RECORDED, HANDWRITTEN, PHOTOCOPIED, OR OTHER ELECTRONIC FORMAT INCLUDING DIGITAL MEANS OF ANY FORM WITHOUT THE SOLE, SIGNED PERMISSION OR APPROVAL OF THE AUTHOR. (COPYRIGHT MARCH 22, 2009).
Publication Date: 03-22-2009

All Rights Reserved

Dedication:
To my mother Fatima Qudsia without whom I wouldn't have been where I am today. May God bless her...always.

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