Of a crowd of workmen and drivers in a bar-room around the stove late of a winter night, and I unremark’d seated in a corner
Poems forever
A glimpse
By Walt Whitman
A glimpse through an interstice caught,
Of a crowd of workmen and drivers in a bar-room around the stove late of a winter night, and I unremark’d seated in a corner,
Of a youth who loves me and whom I love, silently approaching and seating himself near, that he may hold me by the hand,
A long while amid the noises of coming and going, of drinking and oath and smutty jest,
There we two, content, happy in being together, speaking little, perhaps not a word.
Paintings of inamorata
By Suhd Nazeer
Untold love’s
An amazing artiste as it etches
murals on the soul, poignantly beautiful.
Just like some vine does
Running over some wall.
Home
By Mahvash Irshad
Apparently,
She’s well composed.
In reality,
She’s a home for storm.
Anaesthetic
By Anam Afzaal
Your love silently approaches,
The dark places of my heart.
Touches every wound,
Eats up all the darkness.
And makes me feel alive,
Even for a while.
A martyr
By Ayesha Malik
They call him a martyr
Which was simply a barter
Of a precious life
Lost in a meaningless strife
The blood that spills out
Is it not worth a shout?
The innocence lying lifeless
Can someone be so heartless?
To murder and still smile
The devils, disgusting and vile
Banking on death
That priceless breath
Which could have been inhaled
A life which needed to be saved
Have they no shame?
Never accepting the blame
Empty words, announcing a name
Trying to win the political game
No democracy, no charter?
Calling a six year old a martyr!
Ride along
By Haneen Moosa
Placing my foot on the accelerator.
Because now,
I just want to accelerate my life,
In the second gear.
No, actually in the fifth gear.
At full speed.
Oh, friend.
I am about to take a ride.
To break free from,
This reckless life.
Will you come along
And accompany me,
On this jarring ride that I am taking?
Or will you just leave me,
All by myself?
This ride called “Life”.
Is such,
On which we all are alone.
Driving our own cars.
Fighting our own battles.
We meet each other at signals.
Share pain,
Or perhaps,
Joy.
And then,
We get lost, on our own paths, again.
Like a feeling of a long lost friend,
Is brought to us.
While in our hearts rests,
The hope,
To find each other once more.
On the next signal.
It may not be the case,
That I shall see your face.
But I pray,
That you shall never lose your way,
Cherish every moment,
That you may remember.
Also, do not forget me.
We may not be in each other’s paths,
Anymore.
But that should not mean,
That we lose the memory of one another.
In fact, it means,
That we preserve
Each memory, of our time
Spent under the apple trees,
In rainstorms.
And so I shall question thee,
Shall I find thou,
On the next signal?
Or was this our last encounter?
Even if it was, never mind.
I carry the hope to see you in heaven.
And I thank you,
For accompanying me along the way.
Making my fears slip away.
I found myself,
Finding my way,
Thank you, dear comrade.
For this ride,
Will remain etched in my memory,
Forever.
Compiled by SK
