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Best Arabic Poems | Poetry

Below are the all-time best Arabic poems written by Poets on PoetrySoup. These top poems in list format are the best examples of arabic poems written by PoetrySoup members

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New Arabic Poems

Don't stop! The most popular and best Arabic poems are below this new poems list.

Arabic Queen by Custard, James
Arabic Proverb by Manassian, Eileen
Arabic by Hartley, Cameron
Arabic homeland by Hassan, Faleeha
Arabic by bauer, ilene
My days and my nights -- translation from my Arabic poem by Chiang, Christy
Fara5*Empty-In Arabic* by al-riyami, sajdah
Ummi (mom in arabic) by Merahi, Nassira

View all new Arabic Poems

The Best Arabic Poems

Details | Arabic Poem |

My Brother

Livers
	bleed

lungs	
	gasp for breath


vessels of poetry
	read

pain disappears
	tears recede

love floats above the sea
	tides of sadness

recede
	planted in marshlands

seeds
	friendship bloomed

living for words
	no longer matters

I embrace my brother
	love his might

standing on cliffs ledge
	gazing this new morn

softly I whisper
	we are one

Details | Arabic Poem |

We are so Different

We are so different

I am smart, you are less so
I am a man, you are a woman
I am trump, you are poor
I am beautiful, you live in a sewer
I have castles, you’re lucky to have drawers
I am peaceful, you are the extremist
I have armies, you have child suicide bombers
I have coffee, you have tea
See the difference between you and me?

I wear clothes under my head, you wear masks over
I sing songs in my sanctuary, while you chant the jihad
I have my god who is righteous; you have a god that sings of terror
My god is great, yours is a fraud
I ride in a limo, you ride a gay camel
I drink fine whiskey, you smoke camel fags
We you see… are as different
As night is to day
As sun is to moon
As Cain is to Abel
I own the castle you live in the stable
Goats and hogs your only staple

Now when we were in the hospital
Me so much better than you, you see
Both our sons sick of leukemia
You being so different and less than me
You cried, and you wept, and you wished yourself dead
If your child should live, you'd give all you ever had
Its then I saw, I’d do exactly the same
When you offered me a tissue
I confess I felt a wee little shame
Whatever hate you may or may not have had
Lifted, when you saw the child was your only lad
And when I saw this humble startling revelation
I realized how narrow and condescending I was behaving
So maybe we both learned a lesson of Job
A pity such sadness and pain had to bring
The realization to us both
We are not so different after all 

We now drink tea in the olive gardens
Telling the young if they chose to listen
There is a better path, of happier wisdom
By embracing your fellow man
No matter race, color or convictions
Start with a smile
Make it last more than a mile
Great things happen
When us, the people take action
Yours truly
Two fathers
Of this world


Thank you Charmaine for the constant inspiration!

Details | Arabic Poem |

Transcendence

A tent of brightly coloured wool 
Along an effervescent pool
Filled with deliciously cool streams
This would last a week and I would surely weep
For in my sorrows, I made haste 

Beneath a bleak sky adorned with clouds of thought 
Menacing a downpour of grief
I left the bosom of my camp 
And could not recall my steps
The fierce winds of the desert deleted my trail
As the winds of time would delete my memory from all that ever beheld me

The clouds of thought once again embraced my mind and etched on the bleak skies a certain name
A name sweeter than sweetness itself
With a velvety texture surpassing that of silk
A name that transcended the barren plains dancing around on the tongues of angels
And stretched to the bitter and sweet seas

It is a name unlike which any man has ever beheld
For though many share it
None could wear it with her grace, borne of the musk of paradise itself 
A name that evokes images of beautiful pearls
One that sends shivers down my spine
When I envision her delicate visage
A name that spreads warmth from the core of my soul
Which slowly percolates through my being to the tip of my nose

This name can only be the perfectly sculpted form of -????? whose true beauty transcends that of meaningless words
A mellifluous name when uttered in any tone
It shimmers and shines and radiates brilliantly
Even upon the twisted tongue of the vilest crone

I remember the day when the winds of authority blew on our firm grasp 
And whisked her away on the cursed back of an evil black horse
And it is with this heaviness that I thus sink
Into a pitiless lake of anguish

Details | Arabic Poem |

Sea of Dreams

The skies become loud and dark
Raining bombs upon us
May god protect the civilians
Take away the rest in rivers red
Let the devils blood flow far from us

We stare always to the skies
Our own tears falling
Thus we created our own sea of dreams
Here inside our prison city
Laughter is hidden underneath the bed


My pink lip stick and smile
I have only hope to eat
I have only the future to grasp
Because my death shall soon come to be
Death for forgetting the past

All we could do, living in daily fear
Is swim in our sea of dreams
Only to be drowned with our own blood
Here is my Photo, here is my dream
I lie dead, my dream I leave to you



Dedicated to Nisan Ibrahim who reported and wrote under the alias Ruqia Hassan.
She lived in the city of Raqqa in Iraq and was killed by Daesh around July 2015.
Hassan came from a Kurdish family that was originally from the town of Kobane, Syria, on the Turkish border. The family had at some date relocated to Raqqa. 

She was never to find that rest and peace. Maybe she didn't expect to. She wrote the same day: "Our biggest mistake was to swim in a sea of dreams... and we dreamt of the next phase and ignored the current phase... we look at the future and forgot the past... #a mistake we regret."

Details | Arabic Poem |

The Art of Attraction

I heard it said once
That attractive to an artist
Does not mean "pretty"
In the average sense
But more something that
Is interesting to look at
And makes you want to 
Keep looking

To him, I can look for hours
And want to keep looking

He is the color burnt umber
Like coffee and cream
And purest black ink
Not blue-black, or brown,
But the undiluted purity
Of a spilled ink-pot
Shaped by the delicate curve
Of a calligraphy brush
Into perfectly, haphazardly
Beautiful curls, erratic and
Bold

And his eyes
Those eyes
Like coffee, taken
Without cream or sugar
But turned amber by sunlight
And sweetened by laughter
Making what might have been
Intimidating, with their darkly
Charcoaled outline that 
Marks them as Arab
Instead as sweetly inviting
As the warm half-light of dusk
And so addictive

I've been looking for hours
And I want to keep looking

Details | Arabic Poem |

If Languages Were Instruments

If languages were instruments,
English, the language of my own America,
Would be something like a piano.
Each word is clear and sharp-
When we sing, the note does not waver.
But I suppose it's more fair to say that
English is something like an electronic keyboard
With two hundred different modes because English
Has so many different versions, 
Adaptations of other instruments,
Emulations, or imitations, however you want 
To think of it; there is no accent that cannot 
Be reconfigured to be
Played on keys in distinct shades
Of black or white.

Arabic though...
Arabic is more like a violin.
The sound of Arabic
Flies up and down the scale
In deliciously smooth legato,
Stopping to linger on vibrato;
Poignant

Details | Arabic Poem |

Diabolical

Insane
All of us
The two of us
The ménage of us

The rain drops fall inside our heads
Just the two of us
Crazy deluded creatures
crawling in the attics of darkness

Breathing, gasping, hold on, hold tight
The air becomes a precious bond
Little one dances in the wind
Precious dreams in white padded rooms

Adam and Eve and serpent roam
The halls of the diabolical 
Wondering where I have been?
I am all of you

Mirrors on the wall 
Can you not all see?
We are all me and you
Insane inside mindless heads

Random mutterings
Broken bottles
Gods stolen promises
Contracts broken in the night

Insane we are
All of us
From Adam to Dawn
Holding hands for better days

Dying to be uninsane
Wishing raindrops go up not down
ATEN shall again shower us
With sunny days


Dedicated to someone here who told me once, “I am just………….     Well I say you are just a brilliant poet”

Details | Arabic Poem |

Haiku for the Color Red

As heat bursts around,
silence lets me ponder on,
where I left my phone.

Details | Arabic Poem |

Lament in Haiku Form for a Dead Eraser

Today I did stab,
an eraser so white, pure,
it did bleed blue ink.

Details | Arabic Poem |

Chemical Affections

A child
Foaming at the mouth
Dying
Islam crying

Sunni tears
Shia tears
Drowning in each others fears
Off with the masks

Wear your smiles
Give heart and cheerful warmth
Not lectures and verse
Allow us women to converse

Follow the Surahs of compassion
Forgive the Surahs of revenge
Lets all grow red roses in our gardens
So that bombs of blood stop raining

On our children
Sunni and Shia civil wars
From bloodshed to others shores
Christians shout, no more!

Syria the infection
From Russian injection
Islamic horrors
Where is the west?

Details | Arabic Poem |

ONE THOUSAND AND ONE BOMBS ON BAGHDAD

We were accustomed to read one thousand 
And one night in Baghdad...
Tonight the glorious city-sky is sad,
It sounded bang! Bang 
Where is my mummy? Where is my dad?
Are they all alive under the cruise wreckage;
Or are they all dead?
The a ‘Rashid city was weeping,
It rained hatred,
It rained prejudiced,
It rained cactus of different shapes,
They're all aliens, 
Some were homemade,
They're all colourful,
In blue, in yellow and in red.
Do you still remember brother?
Because if you don't I still do
What the big Satan, Lucifer what he said!
The cross versus the crescent, take it or leave it,
An entire racism by the media was also fed.
Some hidden in a banker,
Others crawling of hunger,
Others demonstrating with anger,
Pale, yellowish faces they all looked bad.
Where is my nation..My Arabity..My Islam ?
Oh...Mutasamahh! Where are my brothers?
Are they all dead???
They called it precise bombing and it was right indeed,
In the heart of the baby-heart 
Like the British game of dart,
The arrow hit its target,
It hit it like mad.
Nobody moves a finger,
In the age of Patriot and Stinger,
They all believe in star-wars, economic prosperity, 
They all believe in the Pope, pop-star singer,
They all believe that one-day Allah would side with them to defeat, 
The neo-Thamud and Aad,
They're all waiting for the coming future Mahdi,
And for the Armageddon battle to be led.

Details | Arabic Poem |

Jerusalem expensive

Jerusalem expensive 

They took her by force and took it from under our feet They went out 
We love and we want, but their weapons in the Muslim Tortured us 
Cry day and night, and between their hands do not want to stay 
Notifies the sadness calls, every human being by a drop of blood Islam 
Youth killed aggression, and an orphanage in the streets of pain 
Children of security they want, and the Zionists speak the language of blood 
Responsible for watching the war, and organizations suspicion that they are incorrigible Peace 
They beat us and tortured us, and armed Dmrona and Okhavona 
Moved O Muslims, and all fighters Belongings 
What is the value of the life he leads Denied, and of belongings you ban 
Enough of humiliation and deadlock, Your cooperation to return You  
God is in favor of the right, what you just have to go ahead and fight 
O Muslim, there is no saddens blow ...... 
The higher the oppressor, Fall become more painful .......

Muslim proudly 



Author : Omar Hachmi 


http://creationsomarhachmi.blogspot.com/

Details | Arabic Poem |

Naked Places

Shall I undress my wounds?
Expose to you my darkest closet?
Prey tell who would dress my sorry heart
Inside of me
There is fear
Naked fear
You can not feel
Nor can you hear
In snow drifts I sleep
Dry eyes
For I lost
All the tears
In the years
Of
Having
Broken strings
Deaf is the violin

Details | Arabic Poem |

Two Lenses

In the exuberant morning sun
Showcasing the self was an obsession
Cricket swimming jumping very high
Flying the kite high up in the blue sky

In the mellow glee of afternoon
Seeing and waiting is the mind's moon
Around your neck my arms in a loop
Relaxing happily in Poetry Soup
--------------------------------------------------
February 15, 2016

Details | Arabic Poem |

Two Rivers

Two Rivers

Stark naked she slowly shrivelled her exposed vacant mind

shed dry viscous tears and filled the empty river in vain

Exhausted petrified her and the stream her inner self 

bared to rugged contraction with one final squeeze flooded

the truth that she floated on sediment nevertheless


17th November 2016

5 times 14 syllables howmanysyllables.com

Details | Arabic Poem |

Bath City and Proud The Anthem

The Romans came and they called it Aqua Sulis,
there aint no place on the Earth can out do this,
if Bath was a day then I think we'd call it Christmas,
if Bath could be owned then you'd put it on your wish list.

This is my home, 
and it started as a bath house,
Romans roamed, 
watch the water in the bath bounce.

Known for playing rugby,
so we're tough and lovely.
A City of world heritage, 
we've got buildings on a bridge.

With a heaven sent crescent,
looking royal and pleasant.
Bath stone stands in a circle, 
and makes a circus.

Natural hot springs that cured 
a prince of his illness,
Prince Bladud was banished
now Bath is established.

There's still a city wall,
a fortress of the old school.
and BA1 and BA2 I call,
an urban miracle.

A hot spring bubbles, 
and cold river flows.
They built heaven on the Avon
and now the chorus goes

The Romans came and they called it Aqua Sulis,
there aint no place on the Earth can out do this,
if Bath was a day then I think we'd call it Christmas,
if Bath could be owned then you'd put it on your wish list.

This is where they crowned the first King of All England,
that would make Bath the heart and soul of the kingdom.
Just like Rome seven hills surround our home, 
and believe me it's better than Paris or London.

The view is exquisite,
the Roman home away from Rome. 
A rare charm that's very evident,
a city in its element.

You'll marvel at Bath Abbey,
it is flocked to by tourists. 
Urban bliss and pleasantness,
Bath City is gorgeous.

Jane Austin lived here and Dickens would visit.
A place of discovery where they found a planet,
Birth of the Post Office the first letter sent,
Bath City is a rare romantic settlement.

Crown a King found a spring,
Roman bound a planet found.
Sing it loud, Sing it proud, 
bounce the water up and down,
take me home, Bath bound,
now bounce the water up and down.
take me home, Bath bound

The Romans came and they called it Aqua Sulis,
there aint no place on the Earth can out do this,
if Bath was a day then I think we'd call it Christmas,
if Bath could be owned then you'd put it on your wish list.

Oldfield Park and Larkhall, Twerton and Southdown, 
up to Oddown and Fox Hill,
and back down to Weston and Snow Hill,
back up to Combe Down to admire the view
of Newbridge and Lansdown.

The Romans came and they called it Aqua Sulis,
there aint no place on the Earth can out do this,
if Bath was a day then I think we'd call it Christmas,
if Bath could be owned then you'd put it on your wish list

Details | Arabic Poem |

five haiku

Such a disaster 
Waking up in the morning
Shamelessly white 

Haiku
 Self- tanning cream
The pride of looking sporty 
The mirror pulls face 

Haiku
Deep philosophy 
The poet is in deep water
Saved by low tide

Haiku
One types of success
When your work brings happiness
And not endless doubt  

Haiku
The loser a man 
Who knows he`s incompetent  
Yet accuse others

The news I read
Been the same for fifty years
War and film stars

Details | Arabic Poem |

Words

Morning tea is dark
Like the night behind our house
Where the sun lost its way
And the air did not stop to greet our trees.

We gaze at our place where we sat last night
we know 
we'll leave everything behind us
And won't collect the scattered words between the chairs.

Night was long
The candle is dusty and cold like our fingers
Why do we wait for tomorrow
If only to throw our words like pieces of papers 
on the table and leave?

Details | Arabic Poem |

Gypsy Cravanserai


In the scorching sun of the wild Sahara

Where the dunes shower like The Falling Niagara

And the black scorpion so eager for flesh

Roams the desert as if on African safari


The winds howling in the void wilderness

A dead silence fills the holes of emptiness

A tingling rattle is heard behind a dune

The stinging snake gives a deadly tune


From afar looms a misty mirage silhouette

Lumbering along with blaring clarinet

The music of which gives a poetic hint

That the desert is a sea of sparking glint


The flashes show and hide a caravanserai

Going through the wild in a lined array

Seeking an oasis to unload and sojourn

Before leaving the sands in the next morn


Again the convoy resumes the long voyage

A camel is known as the ship of the desert

Sailing through vast seas of golden sands

With light steps in resolute straight trends



The caravanserai passes and the sands move

The places change and the scorpion does rove

The winds still howl in empty space and loose

A ship has passed has left a wake after a cruise



The flock travels in never ending quest

For water for peace and for the best

Once there is an oasis there we shall rest

The sun of life is burning it is just a test

Details | Arabic Poem |

No reflection can see your true beauty

I look at my reflection wondering if that’s me?
I look at those photos stuck with Prestik on the white walls of my bedroom, and ask myself, is that me? 

I stand in front of a mirror for hours, trying to figure out when I turned into such a sickening piece of flesh. 
Through my eyes I see nothing but the hideous features and the five hundred and one flaws that have taken over my entire human body, 
but through someone else's eyes those flaws are invisible,
and those hideous features, are the prettiest they have ever seen.

Maybe it’s not through your own eyes that you realize your true beauty, 
but the way another looks, and sees the beauty that you cannot see.

Details | Arabic Poem |

Animation

She brushed after 
every meal 
scrubbed every 
fruit. 
She had copious 
concerns 
re contamination 
but had a blind spot 
when she ate cadavers 
of animals 
deprived of animation

Details | Arabic Poem |

The Jerusalem War Between Boys

The soldiers said
That the boy threw a grenade.
The parents of the boy said
That the soldiers planned to kill him.
This is what happens

When one person
Believes that another person
Is but an animal,
And not human.
People will self-fulfill as animal

And it’s much easier to kill
An animal,
Especially when you are an animal.
So, this is what really happened that day-
Both sides were right.

The boy walked down the street,
Before dawn, and saw the soldiers,
Who were walking on egg shells
With fear and expectation,
(Of course, they were mere boys themselves).

When the boy saw them look his way,
He reached into his basket
And threw a fresh egg
In their direction.
The boy’s face had just a split second

To crack a small smile
Before the bullet
Shattered his face
And skull
And the soldier

Was left with egg on his face
As well, but unfortunately,
Just a split second after he fired the shot.
So, eggs are grenades.
Boys are killers.

And that is when the cock crows
Between boys
In a Jerusalem morning.

Details | Arabic Poem |

Brave Woman

She is the bravest my eyes have ever seen
A lion bows, in shiver and fear
I am on my knees for I can not believe
A woman so beautiful, among us she breathes…

I offer this world and everything within to her feet…
I say proudly that I will protect her with fists…
She smiles, then gently she says to me…
I am a woman, strong and I do not need
Protection, for I may seem fragile
But I am stronger than steel…

I do not know what words to speak…
For I desire her love, and love her miserably…
But I have only my heart to offer
And she deserves better than me…

It does not matter that I love her endlessly…
She lives in a world that the devil dreams to flee…
And yet she stands strong with a smile shinning through her lips…
With a laugh musical, poetry to my ears…
She is a brave woman…gentle and free

Details | Arabic Poem |

i wanna be creative

i want to be creative 
but sometime i am negative
damn someone turn me positive 
to make me feel am a good native

listen to me bb no one can be great
only if you now how to make the beat 
beat the best and u never take a set
cuz everyone well the bad freaky beast

Details | Arabic Poem |

When Will My Nightmare End

 When Will My Nightmare End?
You left behind your fathers and mothers; 
you left behind your husbands and wives. 
You put on hold, your very lives. 
You traveled to a land and stated 
You have come to help all those slated 
to be victims of a regime outdated. 
At night you drove ahead, 
into a nightmare filled with dread. 
Into streets filled with danger. 
Completely wary of any stranger. 
To what end you asked in pain? 
What in the world can we possibly gain? 
The only answer you could find 
was in your heart and all you left behind. 
As you drive these haunted streets 
the sound of gunfire so close it speaks. 
It speaks of dangers still unknown, 
it screams of evil to atone. 
This land, in truth, is death and sand 
it is truly a "NO man's land"
By; John Cervone

This is dedicated to all the National Guard Troops who served in IRAQ.