Fun Shayari , Funny Shayari

1

Saap Ne Piya Bakri Ka Khoon ...
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Waah! Waah!
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Saap Ne Piya Bakri Ka Khoon ...
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Waah! Waah!
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Good Afternoon! Good Afternoon! Good Afternoon!!


2
 Yashomati Maiyya Se Bole Nandlala ...
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Yashomati Maiyya Se Bole Nandlala ...
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"Maa, Tata Sky Laga Daala To Life Jhingalala ..!!"




3
Tere Pyaar Mein Paagal Ho Gaya Peter ...
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Waah! Waah!
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Tere Pyaar Mein Paagal Ho Gaya Peter ...
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Waah! Waah!
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Ab Hero Honda Splendor, 80 km Prati Litre .. !!



4
Aapki Surat Mere Dil Mein Aise Bass Gayii Hai ...
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Aapki Surat Mere Dil Mein Aise Bass Gayii Hai ...
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Jaise Chhote Se Darwaaze Mein Bhens Phass Gayii Hai .. !!


5
Premika: "Aisa Khatt Likho Sajna, Ki Meri Umar Beet


Jaaye Padhne Mein ... "
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Premi: "$@#       % #$      @ $ %#$  &&*
            !@#@ &&*( )(&%    %#$%    %#$%#$
!#@!#    ?< ":::<< $%^$%  %#%"
            @#@#!!    ? #$%^   $#$%&<<


 #%$%""}}+   !@?? ":    @@#$$$?:@!!

  $@#       % #$      @ $ %#$  &&*
            !@#@ &&*( )(&%    %#$%    %#$%#$
!#@!#    ?< ":::<< $%^$%  %#%"
            @#@#!!    ? #$%^   $#$%&<<


 #%$%""}}+   !@?? ":    @@#$$$?:@!!


            Le Padh !!!"

Funny Shayari , Enjoy , Entertainment Shayari

 1)

Hoton Pe "Haan" Hai...
Dil Mein "Naa" Hain...

Hoton Pe "Haan" Hai...
Dil Mein "Naa" Hain ...

Shashi Kapoor Kehta Hai: "Mere Paas Maa Hai ..."


2)

Bahaar Aane Se Pehle Fizaa Aa Gayii ...
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Waah! Waah!
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Bahaar Aane Se Pehle Fizaa Aa Gayii ...
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Waah! Waah!
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Phool Ko Khilne Se Pehle Bakri Kha Gayii .. !!




3)

Aatma Chhod Gayii Shareer Puraana ...
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Waah! Waah!
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Aatma Chhod Gayii Shareer Puraana ...
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Waah! Waah!
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Didi Tera Devar Deewana .. !!

Height of recession - Shayari Recession

Height of recession

Doobte hue aadmi ne
Pull par chalte hue aadmi ko
Aawaz lagayi "bachao bachao"
Pull par chalte aadmi ne neeche
Rassi fenki aur kaha aaoo....

Nadi mein dobta hua aadmi
Rassi nahi pakad pa raha tha
Rah rah kar chillaa raha tha
Mein marna nahi chahta
Zindagi badi mehengi hai
Kal hi to meri ek MNC mein naukri lagi hai..

Itna sunte hi pul par chalte
Aadmi ne apni rassi kheench li
Aur bhagte bhagte wo MNC gaya
Usne wahan ke HR ko bataya ki
Abhi abhi ek aadmi doobkar mar gaya hai
Aur is tarah aapki company mein
Ek jagah khali kar gaya hai...

Mein berozgaar hoon muje le lo...
HR boli dost tumne aane me der kar di,
ab se kuch der Pehle humne us aadmi ko lagaya hai
Jo usse dhakka de kar tumse pehle yahan aaya hai !!!

ME and MY BOSS

When I Take a long time to finish, I am slow,
When my boss takes a long time, he is thorough

When I don't do it, I am lazy,
When my boss does not do it, he is busy

When I do something without being told, I am trying to be smart
When my boss does the same, he takes the initiative,

When I please my boss, I am apple polishing
When my boss pleases his boss, he is cooperating,

When I make a mistake, I' am an idiot.
When my boss makes a mistake, he's only human.

When I am out of the office, I am wondering around.
When my boss is out of the office, he's on business..

When I am on a day off sick, I am always sick.
When my boss is a day off sick, he must be very ill.

When I apply for leave, I must be going for an interview
When my boss applies for leave, it's because he's overworked

When I do good, my boss never remembers,
When I do wrong, he never forgets

Weep, weep within me, darling. There's release

Weep, weep within me, darling. There's release
In tears, in sorrow, in love that brings such pain.
You live inside of me, so rest in peace.

I know that like a sea you cannot cease
To crash against my heart, again, again.
Weep, weep within me, darling. There's release

From all the cruelty of your short lease,
The unimagined hell of the self-slain.
You live inside of me, so rest in peace.

I was cut off from you and could not piece
Together bows that lay beyond your rain.
Weep, weep within me, darling. There's release

In knowing that your love, like magic fleece,
Will warm me through the winters that remain.
You live inside of me, so rest in peace.

My love for you, dear mother, will increase
As more and more your will I will unchain.
Weep, weep within me, darling: there's release.
You live inside of me, so rest in peace.

We may be like leaves upon the wind,

We may be like leaves upon the wind,
Each dancing towards our fated patch of earth,
Leaving in a gust of slanting rain
Or at some sunlit touch, our place of birth.
Vivid memories of life at home,
Early love, most vivid love, of you,
Your arms the world, your touch our organ tone:
One sea of bliss beneath all that we do,
Unloosing tears as dark and wide we roam.

We are not your children

We are not your children, but
We write you nonetheless
To wish you Happy Mother's Day
With sweet, sad tenderness.

We loved your child, who cannot write
The words that he would say,
And so in memory of him
We send you this today.

There is no comfort can assuage
The passing of a child,
But we must do what we can do
And know he would have smiled;

And know that love is like a wave
That sweeps past those who love
To break upon the edge of death,
Time's traces to remove;

And break again, and break again
Across that distant shore
That all who love might taste of life
Yet yearn in peace for more.

You feel the fortune of your years

You feel the fortune of your years,
I hope. For all your children's love
This day must bring you happy tears
And thoughts that joyful music prove.

I hope, for all your children's love,
There is an island, be it small,
And thoughts that joyful music prove
Beyond what years you may recall.

There is an island, be it small,
Amid the passions of the sea,
Beyond what years you may recall,
Where you in silent grace can be.

Amid the passions of the sea,
This day must bring you happy tears.
Where you in silent grace can be,
You feel the fortune of your years.

You are my mother and my friend,

You are my mother and my friend,
Which is unusual.
Somehow our characters must blend:
Your wisdom and my will.

I turn, and you are there for me;
I speak, you understand.
I feel cared for, but also free;
You lead but don't command.

I'm fortunate that I was born
To someone just like you;
I love you, not just as my mom,
But for what you are and do.

What do you do when your mother is crazy,

What do you do when your mother is crazy,
Hysterical, selfish, abusive, and cruel?
What do you do when really you hate her,
And it's all you can do to be distantly cool?

What do you do when you find her repulsive,
And the best of your memories are tinted with pain?
And now she is old, and needs to be near you,
And you cannot stand to be near her again?

How do you tell her the truth when the truth
Keeps accruing like some insurmountable debt?
When the horror that haunts you goes back to a moment
You cannot remember and cannot forget?

What do you do with your love when your love
Has been buried so long that you can't find its grave?
When love for a parent lies outside a window
Through which you imagine how people behave?

What do you do when whatever you do
Must cost more than the option you failed to choose?
For whether you turn to embrace or forsake her,
You're left with a burden you cannot refuse.

Thank you for the gift of understanding

Thank you for the gift of understanding
How deep within the heart one's love can go.
A mother is the organ tone of feeling,
Now grounding us in sorrow, now in healing,
Knowing all the passion one can know.

Years of independence notwithstanding,
On you all other loves depend, revealing
Underneath our waves, your undertow.

Thank you for loving me, Mother day Speacial

Thank you for loving me,
Having me in.
All you have given
Now I hold within.
Kid in a vacuum
You made your own,
Or else I had been
Unborn and unknown.*

*Or, "Unloved and alone."

To my wife on Mother's Day,

To my wife on Mother's Day,
Our habitude and light:
May you be as happy as
You make us with your love.
Winds may blow the world away,
Intent on reaching night.
For us there'll always be a home,
Everywhere you move.

To my sister on Mother's Day:

To my sister on Mother's Day:
Often I remember how we were
More focused on ourselves when we were young.
Years and children sweep in like a tide,
Separating us from distant shores.
In truth, we're even closer than before,
Sustaining our childhood inside,
The memories to which we both belong
Enriched by what love teaches us to bear,
Resonant with what we rarely say.

Our mother is the sweetest

Our mother is the sweetest and
Most delicate of all.
She knows more of paradise
Than angels can recall.

She's not only beautiful
But passionately young,
Playful as a kid, yet wise
As one who has lived long.

Her love is like the rush of life,
A bubbling, laughing spring
That runs through all like liquid light
And makes the mountains sing.

And makes the meadows turn to flower
And trees to choicest fruit.
She is at once the field and bower
In which our hearts take root.

She is at once the sea and shore,
Our freedom and our past.
With her we launch our daring ships
Yet keep the things that last.

Sometimes some time must pass before the flesh

Sometimes some time must pass before the flesh
Can grow across the chasm of a wound.
The rift must be protected by a silence
That waits upon the healing touch of night.

You and I have traded so much pain
There came a time you closed maternal* doors.
Your love could not so long sustain the power
To hold humiliation in your arms.

I know that I have disappointed you:
I could not be the child that you wanted.
But now I stand beside your ancient walls.
Come meet me once again outside the gate.

*"paternal" if for a father

You were my mother and my friend,

You were my mother and my friend,
Which was unusual.
Somehow our characters still blend:
Your wisdom and my will.

I turned, and you were there for me;
I spoke, you understood.
I felt cared for, but also free;
You loved, and I was good.

I'm fortunate that I was born
To someone just like you;
I love you still. Though you are gone,
You live in what I do.

My mother was a mother as a child.

My mother was a mother as a child.
Always she has cared for someone else:
No chance to roam untouched among the wild,
Unsuspected precincts of the self.
Youth was shorter than a winter day,
Prelude to a long and bitter night.
For all the souls that fortune sent her way,
She was the source of certitude and light.
Giving only, often, as of need,
Reflexively resigned to sacrifice,
Inured to pain, and yet quite prone to bleed,
Not looking at her loss, she paid the price.
Yet love has given her this recompense:
That she might savor still her innocence.

My mom is very sweet and always caring.

My mom is very sweet and always caring.
She worries about me when I am in school.
She makes sure that I get where I am going
On time so that I don't feel like a fool.

She cares whenever I pick on my younger brother.
She cares whenever he or I get hurt.
She cares whenever I score a goal in soccer.
She cares about the buttons on my shirt.

But best of all, my mom loves all of us
Who live with her, both when we're good and bad.
She makes me happy with a hug and kiss
And holds my hand whenever I am sad.

Mothers are the gardeners

Mothers are the gardeners
Of wind-blown wild flowers.
They water them with happy tears,
Happy with them many years,
Even as the hours
Ring with sweet, sad melodies
Sighing through their bowers.

Mothers are as total as the sky;

Mothers are as total as the sky;
Older than the earth, and more enduring.
They're rooted in our hearts like ancient trees,
Halfway down to seething lava seas;
Emblazoned on our sail, and on our mooring.
Returning home, we dwell within their sigh:
So maddening, so rich, so reassuring.

Mothers and daughters, mother day poems

Mothers and daughters
Were daughters and mothers
Not so long ago.
We give and take
And take and give
Along time's endless row.

Love is passed
And love received
To be passed on again:
A precious heirloom
Twice, twice blessed,
A spiritual cardigan.

I'll put it on
And treasure it,
The me I have received,
And when the roles
Reverse again,
I'll have what I most need.

So may our love
Go on and on,
A hundred thousand years;
Mothers and daughters,
Daughters and mothers,
Through joys and other tears.

Mother of the Year is an occasion

Mother of the Year is an occasion
On which all mothers can receive their due.
The chosen one becomes a celebration,
Happily, of what we always knew.
Each generation finds its way to love,
Returning to the home within the heart,
Offering the next a model of
Fierce passion to be whole by being part.
To you, then, go the laurels of the day,
Hard earned through many hours of sacrifice,
Each danced with all the wisdom of the way
Yet known to those who do not ask the price.
Even in the ardent grip of grace,
Alive with love, you know the odds you face,
Reaching through your joys towards paradise.

Mommy, I love you

Mommy, I love you
For all that you do.
I'll kiss you and hug you
'Cause you love me, too.

You feed me and need me
To teach you to play,
So smile 'cause I love you
On this Mother's Day.

Mommy, please don't worry 'cause

Mommy, please don't worry 'cause
I'm doing really well,
Even though I miss you on
This Happy Mother's Day!

Wishing you were with me 'cause
In that case I could tell
You all the things that happened to me
While you were away.

I love you even though you can't
Be with me just for now.
And I know you love me, too,
'Cause I'm your little child.

And I'm sure that you will come
To me someday, somehow,
And I will see you look at me
And know that you have smiled.

Mother of my loved one, hear my love

Mother of my loved one, hear my love
On this, a day when such sweet words are due.
Take to heart the heartfelt praise that you
Have long bestowed but wanted little of.
Even as waves hunger for the shore,
Resting their long yearnings on the sand,
So I have found in you a mother, and
Delighted in the sunlight at your door.
An accident of love brought us together,
Yet though I chose not, I would choose no other.

Mother of my loved one, hear my love

I see you working hard for me
And wonder what it means:
Whether I will do the same
And give up my own dreams

To offer someone else my world,
A stranger from my womb,
And say: Here, take my life,
So you, not I, can bloom.

I often wonder at the depth
Of that cool sacrifice;
I know it can't be "just because,"
Or simply to be nice.

It is so awesome, I can't think
How I could make that choice,
Except I see something in you
That gives my own heart voice.

I see sometimes a happiness
Amid the stressed-out day
That no one else can hope to know
In any other way.

I feel it when you look at me
And understand sometimes
That things I do, I do for two,
And then your hard life shines.

And when I give you grief, I know
That all the bitter pain
Between a mom and growing child
Is simply like the rain

That alternates with sunny days,
Passion without end,
While underneath is more of life
Than we can comprehend.

And then I know, perhaps, why I
Like you might be so moved
To give my life to someone else,
And know that I have loved.

If I could give my mom the world

If I could give my mom the world
Or anything she wanted,
I'd give her my own heart and soul
And leave my own heart haunted.

I'd take upon myself her life
With all its strife and pain,
And let her ease into some space
Where she could live again.

The pain for me would not be pain,
At least not for a while;
For I'd be doing it for her,
And I would see her smile.

I wish that I could take her heart
And cleanse it with my tears,
And make her sorrow go away,
And answer all her fears.

I wish, I wish, but then I can't,
As I watch helplessly,
And take her in my arms and say
I wish that it were me.

But loving is a hard, hard way,
With all the pain it brings.
And yet there is no other way
To touch the heart of things

Grandmothers are mothers who are grand,

Grandmothers are mothers who are grand,
Restoring the sense that our most precious things
Are those that do not change much over time.
No love of childhood is more sublime,
Demanding little, giving on demand,
More inclined than most to grant the wings
On which we fly off to enchanted lands.
Though grandmothers must serve as second mothers,
Helping out with young and restless hearts,
Each has all the patience wisdom brings,
Remembering our passions more than others,
Soothing us with old and well-honed arts.

Happy Mother’s Day to my dear Mum,

Happy Mother’s Day to my dear Mum,

Author of my personality:

Pleased, I hope, with what you read in me;

Pleased, I hope, with episodes to come.

Yet now I, too, would get some pleasure from

Making you the book in which I see,

Of all the players in my family,

The central character, whom I would plumb.

How beautiful to move in that direction!

Each to each a separate source of pleasure,

Reading in the other’s happiness,

‘Mid much description, underlying love.

So would we deepen the connection,

Discovering new passages to treasure

As we follow time towards tenderness,

Yearning for what years unread will prove.

I love you and I need you, even though , For mother day

I love you and I need you, even though
I may at times have made you tear your hair!
I set myself apart, but even so
Your presence and your love are always there.
You are my jail cell and ten-ton door
That keeps me from just being who I am.
And so I pound the walls and go to war,
Ramming all the rules that I can ram.
Yet though I must rebel, all the while
I know your love's the ground on which I stand.
I wait upon the flash of your proud smile
And twist inside at every reprimand.
I'm sorry for the times I've caused you pain;
After these brief storms, love will remain.

For all that you have given me, MOther day peoms

For all that you have given me,
I can return but love. For you
Bound up the wounds I did not see
And gave me hopes and passions new.

I can return but love for you,
Whose unmoved faith my heart did move,
And gave me hopes and passions new,
And loved me till I turned to love.

Whose unmoved faith did my heart move?
The mother of my heart, not blood,
Who loved me till I turned to love.
And I became the soul I would.

The mother of my heart, not blood,
Bound up the wounds I did not see.
And I became the soul I would
For all that you have given me

Every time I see my pansies

Every time I see my pansies
Vivid in the golden sun,
You are with me in my garden,
And I am once again a child.

Vivid in the golden sun,
Their beauty brings me close to tears,
And I am once again a child
Learning to assume your grace.

Their beauty brings me close to tears
As I join hands with you in love,
Learning to assume your grace,
Dancing to your inner music.

As I join hands with you in love,
You are with me in my garden,
Dancing to your inner music
Every time I see my pansies.

Even though just recently we've met,

Even though just recently we've met,
I feel you are to me a second mother.
Sometimes between one person and another
There is a strangely comfortable first fit.

With you I feel just like a lonely moon
Come to the attraction of an earth,
Swinging gratefully across its girth
As if possessed at last by love its own.

With the adult need for time and space
There is the child's need for something more:
A love that needs no answer at the core
Of all that gives one dignity and grace.

Dear Mother, please don't take away my baby.

Dear Mother, please don't take away my baby.
I'm young, alone, my husband is in jail.
But there's a wonder in what fortune may be
Given us, though time its wisdom veil.
Please help me be a mother much as you are
By being but a mother once removed,
As I become the daughter that I thus far
Have never been, by love and labor proved.
And let me love as you did my own child,
Making the best of what I wrought in pain;
For once fate leaves, one ought to think it smiled,
Rejoicing in what one would rue in vain.
I would not give my child to another;
I need you now, but only as my mother

Daughters-in-law are our grandchildren's mothers.

Daughters-in-law are our grandchildren's mothers.
As such, they carry our fortunes downstream.
Under their guidance, our hopes become others',
Giving their force to a much larger dream.
How lucky we are to have you for the carer
That nurtures the hearts of our hearts, that they may
Each be a lover, a giver and sharer,
Remaking the world in their image each day.
So do we all, like streams from the mountains,
In time become joined in the souls we have made,
Now mingled forever, eternal companions,
Linked by our love in a bond that won't fade.
As you in your noontime your work of love do,
We watch from the hillside, grateful for you.

Close your eyes and wish for the one thing

Close your eyes and wish for the one thing
You cannot do without, and when you do,
Near your heart you'll find it, always there,
Treasure that is dear but not so rare,
Held in the mesh that all your dreams flow through.
In truth, no gift more happiness can bring,
And so this day I give my love to you.

Behold the mother with her newborn child!

Behold the mother with her newborn child!
An icon of a hope that never dies.
Death may label all we cherish lies,
Yet this love lies too deep to be defiled.
We clear an inner field where fate has smiled,
Letting play the pleasures of surmise,
Holding back all contrary replies,
As though our thoughts might turn the winters mild.
Despite the well-known travesties of time,
Each time a child is born we dream anew,
For only thus our losses are regained.
Though we must share the destiny of slime,
No passion in our palette is more true
Than that which cradles innocence unstained.

Before I was myself you made me, me

Before I was myself you made me, me
With love and patience, discipline and tears,
Then bit by bit stepped back to set me free,

Allowing me to sail upon my sea,
Though well within the headlands of your fears.
Before I was myself you made me, me

With dreams enough of what I was to be
And hopes that would be sculpted by the years,
Then bit by bit stepped back to set me free,

Relinquishing your powers gradually
To let me shape myself among my peers.
Before I was myself you made me, me,

And being good and wise, you gracefully
As dancers when the last sweet cadence nears
Bit by bit stepped back to set me free.

For love inspires learning naturally:
The mind assents to what the heart reveres.
And so it was through love you made me, me
By slowly stepping back to set me free.

Although consumed by fury, you still loved us. , Mother day shayari

Although consumed by fury, you still loved us.
At least that is the knowledge of my heart.
Screaming like a child, you would beat us
Until you snapped, and then the tears would start.
"You know I love you," you would cry, demanding
More of us through tears than with your fist.
And we, through tears, would nod our understanding,
Too bullied in our pain to dare resist.
Yet now that you've been dead for many years,
And I have wandered through my own vast hell,
I see the desperate anguish in your tears
And hope at last that I can love you well.
For only in my love can your love be
The love that once, I think, you had for me.

A vase of flowers in a window frame.

A vase of flowers in a window frame.
A house of gentle light amid dark leaves.
An ecstasy so sharp it feels like anguish,
The pull that makes our beeline an ellipse.

No transcendental morning's inspiration
So ravishes the things we never see.
We hear for all our lives a silent music
To which we dance unknowing through our time.

And even when we die, there is a beauty
Older than the cold December stars,
A part of us that waits behind the darkness
To take us once again into its arms.

Although a daughter, I write this as a mother.

Although a daughter, I write this as a mother.
We're both mothers now, of child-daughters:
You, a grandmother forced to be a mother,
And I, a widow, alone with my fatherless daughter.
Death has thus shaped both our lives in ways
We would not have chosen. Yet life is still the bright,
Painfully lovely thing it was always:
Our children like dancers on a dark, splendid night,
Needing our loves as I needed yours; your love
The same song as ever, a lullaby I remember
So well from my time in your arms. We move
In slow spirals towards the stars. September
Has weeks like June, yet is closer to the fall.
Love has no answers, yet its beauty answers all.

A villanelle for Mother's Day

A villanelle for Mother's Day
Should take me just about an hour:
Writing it is child's play.

Because I know just what to say,
And rhyming's quite within my power,
To write it should be child's play.

Yet plain speech is not my way:
I look for leaves to shade my flower,
This villanelle for Mother's Day.

I do not wish to sound too fey,
Obscure, mystic, gushy, sour--
Arggh! Writing's never child's play!

Yes, childish! To my dismay,
Far beyond the allotted hour,
This villanelle for Mother's Day

Dawdles on. Let me just say
It plain: I love you, and so end our
Villanelle for Mother's Day.
(Well ... writing it was child's play.)

A mother's love determines how , Mother day special shayari

A mother's love determines how
We love ourselves and others.
There is no sky we'll ever see
Not lit by that first love.

Stripped of love, the universe
Would drive us mad with pain;
But we are born into a world
That greets our cries with joy.

How much I owe you for the kiss
That told me who I was!
The greatest gift--a love of life--
Lay laughing in your eyes.

Because of you my world still has
The soft grace of your smile;
And every wind of fortune bears
The scent of your caress.

A Mother Casts Her Dreams into the Sea, Mother day Peoms

Mother day Poems, Mother Day Shayari

A mother casts her dreams into the sea;
We, the words sent bobbing towards the sun,
The eggs of stone, the shards of prophesy.

Because she must conclude her melody
And fall back to the sweet dark hush of One,
A mother casts her dreams into the sea,

Hoping to cross that wild infinity
And on some infant shore again to run,
The eggs of stone, the shards of prophesy

Outside the fiery circle of memory,
The howling surf, the incessant years undone …
A mother casts her dreams into the sea

And then dissolves into a tapestry,
Her rolling, helpless drift again begun,
The eggs of stone, the shards of prophesy

Afloat once more upon eternity,
Once more the alien fury, never done …
Again, again, her dreams into the sea,
The eggs of stone, the shards of prophesy!

From :- http://www.poemsforfree.com/mothca.html