Wake! For the Sun, who scatter’d into flight The Stars before him from the Field of Night,
Poems forever
Wake! For the Sun, who scatter’d into flight
The Stars before him from the Field of Night,
Drives Night along with them from Heav’n, and strikes
The Sultan’s Turret with a Shaft of Light.
******************
Before the phantom of False morning died,
Methought a Voice within the Tavern cried,
“When all the Temple is prepared within,
Why nods the drowsy Worshipper outside?”
Omer Khayam’s Rubaiyat translated
by Edward FitzGerald
Theory
By Suhd Nazeer
Time has been stupefied
and petrified by love.
Melancholy
By Bariyah Faisal
In between the lines of my song
In between the neural pathways of my brain
I see melancholy
Making more neural connections,
giving me more sad songs,
holding my lungs
and making me gasp for breath.
Cocaine
By Amna Ameer
In the garden of love,
I planted flowers,
Midst the autumn,
I placed roses,
At your doorstep,
To claim to the forces,
Of mistaken whispers,
To decipher,
The hidden secrets as ours,
To finally make right,
Darkness,
Brewing in my heart,
Like clouds in my coffee,
Rising with the day’s time,
And setting with twilights,
And soon I found out,
Those budding seeds,
Were poppy,
And the colouring dye,
Of leaves,
Was cocaine,
Intoxications had replaced,
The whim of a force,
We were told,
Was love,
An abortion had taken place,
Where all memories,
Were at mercy of time,
And the only few ones,
That were still remembered,
Were of loss,
So when you came,
To look for signs,
Of recovery,
I was already losing,
Everything,
In the battle for survival,
And hence I had ordered,
No one to resuscitate,
What I have already disowned,
Don’t make me remember,
Your face,
If it’s already forgotten,
Don’t perform autopsies,
Of conversations,
I have intentionally left,
Meaningless,
What good has this all brought me?
When I still can’t tell,
The worth of the struggle,
That brought me to your doorstep,
In a city,
I’ll soon forget.
The dream girl
By Neelum Afridi
I play with their eardrums until they are deaf.
I walk out, turn my hair aside that fall on my face.
I look back with my black eyes,
Now, they are blind.
I left, chuckling to myself.
Ambivalence
By Rabia Latif
Reading between the lines
Of your tattooed, smitten heart,
Writing between the blotches
Of your bittersweet scars,
Walking along the lines
Which you once sketched between
You and I,
Are still there, standing,
Stranded,
With resentment boiling and boiling and burning
With love,
Overflowing
At the seams.
Inner poet
By Asma Zainab
He brought out
My inner poet
I thanked
And moved on
To glory,
Leaving him confined
Solely
To my most admired poetry
