Long Ghazals Poems
Long Ghazals Poems. Below are the most popular long Ghazals by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Ghazals poems by poem length and keyword.
Borrowed I’ve pain, pills on credit,
Ever since, I feel not so fit.
When all get drenched, welcoming rain,
The parched me waits home, you to greet.
Should rain come on time, ends the wait,
You come not, my heart stays unlit.
Oh how to muse, metaphors fail
And fall flat failing to well fit.
Cornucopia, nor copious kit,
Pleased I’m with your flitting self’s bit.
Let world cheat with chit funds and likes,
Your mere shadow shall my need meet.
If not, in this world of audit,
Who'd do my ghazals some credit?
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Ghazal |12.11.2021| life, love
See no water for perspiration,
Ask for flowers, not all the garden.
Light a lamp if ye feel there’s darkness,
Nights are always dark, ask for no Sun.
Blame me, all the evil will I bear,
But ask not what might wake my demon.
In matters ‘tween you and almighty,
Ask for no human intervention.
If you’re looking for a fair image,
Ask mirrors— but with mind’s abstention.
If you’re out, looking for happiness,
Ask mind’s monkey to lose its mission.
If you have enough of bitterness
In heart, ask for no liquor’s passion.
If you’re out to describe barest truth,
Ask for no designers to fashion.
As poet let me read my poems,
Ask for facts, nor yet any fiction.
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Ghazals |09.04.2022|
If sick of self your own, whom to complain,
In crowd if feel alone, whom to complain.
The world has too far gone, whom to complain,
If all have-- yon of yon, whom to complain.
If we’ve evil seeds sown, whom to complain,
Stripped all Earth bare to bone, whom to complain.
As witness our walls moan, whom to complain,
The why if we’ve not known, whom to complain.
Not much can now be done, none to complain,
Save, in despair to drown, not a complain.
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Ghazal |26.09.2024|complain
Poet’s note: A typical Ghazal’s first sher or couplet is known as matlaa. Both the lines share a rhyme (kaafia) and refrain (radeef). In this Ghazal all the ten lines (called misraa) of five couplets repeat the refrain, ‘whom to complain’ as radeef. None of my Ghazals have a maktaa or pen name in the last couplet or sher.
Talking to thin air time ticked by,
Waiting on despair, time ticked by.
Suffering the grief as my share---
A fate never rare, time ticked by.
She came or not, it matters little,
Be it fair, unfair, time ticked by.
I’d have spent time on the divine,
But musing on her, time ticked by.
Same ardour could have got me God,
In doubt if she care, time ticked by.
It might have looked like a prayer,
Staring blank in air, time ticked by.
Past teaches too little in love,
In mirage-like snare, time ticked by.
__________________________
Ghazal | 09.08.2026 | frustration, love, romance, time, waiting
Note: A bit melancholic, this ghazal captures the agony of waiting. It also touches on the conflict between divine and earthly love (known in Urdu as Ishq-e-Haqeeqi vs Ishq-e-Majazi. The refrain (Radif) used is: ‘time ticked by’, and the rhyming words (Qafia) are: (air, despair, share, rare, unfair, her, care, snare). The introductory first couplet (sher) is called matlaa. A ghazal often ends with a maktaa that includes the poet’s pen name (takhallus), but not my ghazals.
Come if you can one monsoon eve,
All wet in rain one monsoon eve.
Make boats— letters we failed to write,
Let them float, feign this monsoon eve.
Borrow fragrance from monsoon clay,
Why waste in vain this monsoon eve.
And if you sight a rainbow there,
Bring too if can one monsoon eve.
Rain that rains renders background score,
You come, sing your sweet strains one eve.
Fine if peacocks play the fifth note,
Sans Megh’s domain what’s monsoon eve?
Let monsoon rains drench all others,
You come, drench me one monsoon eve.
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Ghazal |02.06.2022|
Poet’s Note: Monsoon is the time two lovers miss each other if separated. Peacocks call each other using the Fifth Note called Pancham. Monsoon melodies like Megh and Malhar sound more melodious and appealing in rainy season (ref, sixth couplet). This Ghazal was inspired by one in Gujarati by Bhagavatikumar Sharma. As we know, Ghazals cannot be translated. They have to be trans-created. This one keeps the central theme, but the lines have to be thought of anew.
Me, home and loneliness, no more no less,
Ah, oh, utter darkness, no more nor less.
In birth, life, death, equity rules the same,
Suffering there’s endless, no more nor less.
A few saline tears flow caused by sore heart,
What heart held, eyes express, no more nor less.
In desert were buried my memories,
Whence my mind did retrace, no more nor less.
Our parting when sun departed that day,
Hurt was on hurt I guess, no more no less.
Homilies that the world hail as Ghazal,
Some pens tend to caress, no more nor less.
Fine, if readers relate, draw parallel,
If not, it’d them depress, no more nor less.
____________________________
Inspired by a piece in Gujarati by Dikshhita Shah, no translation
Ghazal |21.12.2024|life, birth, death, tears
Poet’s note: The tears flown from eyes or dried down therein are like documents describing painful memories. If they were to be expressed in words, there’s nothing else like poetry. And in all poetic feelings expressed, there’s nothing to compare like ghazals, or to some extent sonnets. In ghazals a reader reads his own painful memories. The poet then disappears and what remains are pure experience of feelings. It means, in poetic words there’s not just fragrance of philosophy, but there’s that perfume, the painful scent of personal suffering as well. And yet, world often sees the light lit by the lamp in front of the photograph of the person lost, but not the darkness in the life of one who has lost the person.
In tranquil eyes if rage there is,
A peace befilled page too there is.
In every breath if there lurks death,
What sustains long age too there is.
If Ghazal gives free expression,
A binding down cage too there is.
Maybe, today’s time is evil,
With foul, fair image too there is.
Every coin has its other side,
As in each sage rage too there is.
If peace has to pay a stiff price,
In wars a matching wage there is.
If life’s path oft gets slippery,
In good to engage, right gauge there’s.
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Ghazals |17.01.2023| life
Poet’s note: Life has two sides just as every coin has, and one has to hedge his bet to balance it, this Ghazal says.
3. Lighthouse Of Yearning
''A heart without longing is a lamp without oil'' --Arabic Proverb
Oceans of longing beat against my chest,
Each wave a reminder that hearts cannot rest.
Your gaze,a lighthouse through fogged,storm-tossed nights,
Guides the lost sailor with hope manifest.
Though seasons change and roses wither slow,
Love endures where the soul is blessed.
The horizon whispers your name with the dawn,
In a song that refuses to to be suppressed.
And the heart,still yearning,bows in your name,
Pheko,Son Of Jesse
4. Candle In Shadows
''Even a small candle defies a night of a thousand stars'' -Arabic Proverb
The candle burns where shadows meet the wall
Each flicker a heartbeat,a whispered call.
Through corridors of time,your steps still echo,
Soft as a prayer,gentle as a fall.
The night sky listens;the stars hold your gaze,
In silver and silence,in twilight's thrall.
Love,though unseen,paints the heart with fire,
And in the dark,answers every small.
Forever your presence lingers in dreams,
Pheko,Nephew Of Jamani
5.Petals Of Remembrance
''The flower fades,but it's scent remains in the lover's breath'' -Arabic Proverb
Petals drift down where memories reside,
Soft as a secret that time cannot hide.
Your voice is a river, weaving through my soul,
It's memory long,it's current wide.
In every echo,in every sigh of wind,
Your spirit walks with me,quietly beside
Though seasons falter and the world may fade,
Love remains a flame that will not subside.
I bow to your memory in silent reverence,
Pheko,Grandson Of Makobane
6. Mountains Eternal
''Mountains Bow Only To The Wind Of Time ''
The mountain stands,eternal,beneath the sky,
Witness to tears no eye can deny.
Each stone a testament,each wind a prayer,
A song of longing that will never die.
Your laughter once scattered the clouds of my night,
Now it returns with the morning's sigh.
Though rivers run dry and stars may fall,
The heart remembers,the soul will fly.
In every echo of earth and stone,I find you
Pheko,Father Of Tokelo
When my muse ruled
my conscience's compass,
waterfalls of rhyming rivers
revealed unspoken secrets -
long forgotten in my heart.
Exposing vulnerable verses
from vaults where vines
had wrapped my tongue
into subdued silence.
In the Injustices of
judicial juxtaposition,
speech spoke in a
paradoxical oxymoron -
'deafening silence'
Pouring in drops of crimson,
I became a convicted cliché,
taken hostage in a
Machiavellian marketplace,
where I felt illiterate - harassed,
by insidious guards and
anapestic gangsters.
In the personification
of confinement,
where word weavers
are poetically unapologetic,
virtual villains ventured
to plagiarize my vocabulary.
An enjambment of envious
eyes attempted to burn
my anthology of alliterations,
so I buried each chapter
in a communal garden,
under a galaxy of ghazals,
hoping pantoum petals,
would bloom in scarlet
stanzas with sophisticated
syllables of rhythmic refrains.
Agitated by
artificial assonance,
my artistry is an
analogy of angst,
where cathartic couplets
of consistent consonance
care not for iambic ideologies.
My elusive elegy is the
legacy of my resistance,
as in my melancholy,
I'll forever be a
misunderstood metaphor.
Silencing intrusive ink,
to prevent another massacre.
With no concern for applause,
I've removed the
garlands of sakura chains.
For I'm no longer a
prisoner of poetry,
but my muse's musk
still remains....
Where are you?
Where are you?
The only one that I seek in day and night, where are you?
Within every glimpse of my vanished sight, where are you?
You are the ultimate soul of love and peace; do not hide.
In this journey, I need comfort in my plight; where are you?
I am so lost, and I can't find my way out; please help.
Who will help me to win this desperate fight? Where are you?
I am anxiously seeking what the truth is; tell me now.
What else can do besides sleeping or sit tight? Where are you?
My nights are darkened, and days darker than nights; I need light.
The twilight of the dawn has not enough light; where are you?
My wish is to fly as high as the sky; show me more.
Ascending into the boundaries of your height, where are you?
Me and "Haloo," we are both witnessing love, can you see?
Without love, this globe will be full of fright; where are you?
6/3/2016 Haloo
This form of poetry is called "Ghazal." The Ghazal (Persian/Arabic) is a poetic form consisting of 5-15 rhyming couplets with the perfect syllabus in each couplet and usually follows with a refrain (the repeating phrase), although using a refrain is not mandatory. It is common in ghazals for the poet's name or nickname to be featured in the last couplet. Ghazal always expresses the pain of loss or separation and the beauty of love (both physical and spiritual) in spite of that pain. The great Persian Poets such as "Rumi and Hafiz" used this style of poetry to express their thoughts.