Afghan Poems - Poems about Afghan

Afghan girls, cats and squirrels

Meryl Streep laments that a squirrel
More rights flaunts, cats more freedom unfurl,
Bulbuls sing with broad choice,
But where’s Afghan girl’s voice?
If women in Kabul
Quelled are under male rule,
Oh, what to marvel on world morale?
___________________________
Happenings |31.09.2024|women, freedom

Poet’s note: Women’s freedom has gone from bad to Worse in Taliban ruled Afghanistan. Yet, if all nations under UNO so

The Afghan Hound

The Afghan’s a dog groomer’s joy 
The definitive Lord Fauntleroy 
But with all that coiffure
One is never quite sure 
If the “she” is a girl or a boy

Children of Afghan

Poisonous laburnum hang downwards,
These dusty streets,
Hot as herbs and spices,
Touching deep buttery Panjshir Valley,
The Great Highland Bagpipes.

Sweaty, I will tell you,
About hegira-state,
Our rugged landscape,
Our legendary generosity,
The children of Afghan.

Dad, Valley of the Five Lions?
The legend of five spiritual guardians?

Almanac of Afghan Armageddon

wiseacres worked out
                      wishy-washy withdrawals
                       worth the worst wording

Afghan

Eyes. Face. 
Cries. Voice.
Hopes. Dreams.
Fear. Tears.
Lost. Love.
Real. Pain.
Scared. Drained.

Life. Death.

They are a…

People who trusted us.
People who looked to us.
People that need us.
People that love us.

Are we a…

People who turn our backs
People who break the tracks
People who betray their trust
People who say: 

don’t count on us?

Afghan People Dream the Same Dream

Religion was the juxtaposition 
the central point of our vision 
the direction the difference 
always destined for distance 

Now I see and hear humans 
emotions, and how I use them, 
they were gifted our given,
that now after 20 years isn't 

And I feel our united core
a vision to build us from all war,
what you lost

The Afghan Hound Dog

afghan hound dogs are
the oldest dog species and
fast than a racehorse


2019 September 17

An Afghan Girl

She was born in a upper middle class family 
Laila was her name given by her father 
Her father had four wives accordingly,
She was not welcomed there.

She was only a girl in that big house 
Rest of them were her brothers 
She had to stay inside like a tiny mouse 
She was allowed to study

The Orlando Massacre and Afghan Tragedy

The policy of hate and date,
You may not like but it’s the truth,
The bitter truth mate!
Was it a lone wolf terror or was it a coordinated fight?

Who cares since it targeted souls
Despised by night.
But you are no God to legislate and
Decide on fate

An act that made an end,
To the destiny of a foe and a

Afghan Fields

I’ve not been to Afghanistan
Fred has
He’s seen the summer dust
He’s breathed the summer dust
He’s felt the winter snow
He’s walked the fields
where those other poppies grow

Fred’s eyes have measured the mountain heights
that divide the valleys – that divide the fights
that divide the people of that land
His ears have heard these divided people crying
He has smelt the

Afghan Glory

A poem by John Nesbitt © 22.11.2013 

I was eighteen years old and wanting to fight 
 I found what I looked for, in bars late at night 
 I took on the big guys, the small ones as well 
 They were all tough, as far as I could tell 
 -
 As a

Afghan Superman

Daisy-flux
Pashtun kickboxing
Blank stares
Cut-off
Free life
Classy travel
Super kamarati

Afghan Princess

The girl of a thousand voices
The girl of green eyes
The girl making her dreams happen
The life of joy
Cooks at her every need
Life of opportunity
No more destruction
No more fighting
No more issues for women in the homeland
All her dreams come true
All her brothers love her dearly
Happy Joy
For the Afghan Princess

Afghan Killers

Spraying spitfire in their tanks
Killing the children
No difference between Vietnam
Prejudice ways
Hear this
The man who is anti-killer
Obama invades Libya
Afghan Killers
Give them some food
Not Ak’s
Bitter beheading in Iraq
Afghan Killers
Hear this rhyme
The rhyme of justice
The rhyme of human rights
The rhyme that will feed every innocent child
Who are we to judge?
Killing and supporting a justless cause
Later sending 20 pounds

The Afghan Beast of War

Cries of agony
Desert land
No-person zone
No man’s land
No man can control the dusk and sand
Tanks squashing the houses
No hope
No hospitals
No food
No life
Just battle
Guns
The bullet
Evil deadly bullet
Armies formalise
To take over the no man’s land
None survive
Because the ones who live in the desert
Aren’t men
They are heroes
A consequence of war
Twisted surface
Twisted desert
No person’s imaginable fate
The sky turns 
A church

• Short Afghan Poems
• Famous Afghan Poems
• Best Afghan Poems
• Read Afghan Poems
• Long Afghan Poems
• Afghan Quotes