'Poetry lifts the veil from the hidden beauty of the world, and makes familiar objects be as if they were not familiar.'
Poets on poetry
'The genesis of a poem for me is usually a cluster of words. The only good metaphor I can think of is a scientific one: dipping a thread into a supersaturated solution to induce crystal formation. I don=t think I solve problems in my poetry; I think I uncover the problems.'
'Poetry lifts the veil from the hidden beauty of the world, and makes familiar objects be as if they were not familiar.'
'Poetry, I feel, is a tyrannical discipline. You=ve got to go so far so fast in such a small space; you=ve got to burn away all the peripherals.'
By Zahra Zafar
I try to remember
Was it June or December?
Wind was colder
I thought I was getting older
I wanted to disappear
From that place to anywhere
But my feet were stuck
In the ground of that ghost town
Haunted moments passed by
All I could do was close my eyes
But nothing made it better
I saw myself crumbling and shatter
But now staring at my bruises and scars
That remind me I have been to war
I try to remember
Was it June or December?
By Bushra Safeer
While thick autumn foliage
Falls over the desolate vale
My heart aches and silence prevails
No flame burns or even
A gust of wind blows
Beside an isolated tree
A candle flickers slowly and passionately
A ray of hope twinkles in my heart
I dwell deep in it
More sweetly and profoundly
I reach to catch
That glimpse of hope
No more cares or worries
In a deep desolate, thick and dark foliage
By Manahil Farooq
In the quiet and stagnant night
The charm of darkness had invaded her soul
For the moments of peace
When everybody was asleep
It was her tired soul
That kept her wide awake
Stuck in an ocean of futile thoughts
What immense pain to her it had brought
Endeavouring to fight against
The million intrusive memories
Remembering all the tragedies
Her achievements proved worthless
And thus we lost another life
Gloom and hopelessness prevailed
By EK
The trees are kind of pretty,
In their autumn gold and brown
Leaves are bright orange-reddish,
But all will soon fall down
As we crunch them with our shoes,
I guess its time for autumn now
As summer takes a snooze
Compiled by SK
