US

POETS’ CORNER

US
By S. K
Fri, 04, 21

Excerpted fro Beowulf, an Old English epic poem consisting of 3182 alliterative long lines....

Unsaid words

By Fatymah Ishtiaq

Words that are unsaid

Words that are unread

Words, gnawing the very existence

And draining it,

Drop by drop...

Every now and then

They pound in the chest

Exasperated,

Enraged

And enflamed...

Sauntering slowly through the throat

Throbbing beneath the tongue

They linger on the lips

Waiting,

Waiting

And waiting

Chafing lips away

They attempt to peep out

Smouldering in the fire of their own existence

They still attempt to make one

Ruthless in their make up

Yet, quintessence of the calm

In the midst of this murk

They struggle to be read

In the midst of this tumult

They struggle to be heard

Drowning in the quagmire of its essence

They catch at the straw

The straw of the ears

That never welcomed thou

Yet making their way

Struggling and struggling

Until to nothingness do they sink

Muted

By Ayesha Malik

Colours and hues

Bright and blues

Words and phrases

Are all mere phases

Each one passes

Over the crowds

Fighting the faces

Marked with graces

Sounds and echoes

Are all muted embraces

Given our time lapses

We enrage our ages

Grab the scruffs

Of necks ‘n’ puffs

All our tolerance

All our reverence

Drains out in spaces

Where vain banter lays

Entrenched in greys

Making appearances

Smiling pale faces

That is who we are

Deep down in the basis

Nothing works

Nothing replaces

The wistful song

Delivers its facets

Churning up old lies

Beautiful and envious faces

Wishing to be pleasant

In mind and in phrases

Poems forever

Beowulf

By Anonymous

Lo, praise of the prowess of

people-kings

of spear-armed Danes, in

days long sped,

we have heard, and what honor the athelings won!

Oft Scyld the Scefing from

squadroned foes,

from many a tribe, the mead-bench tore,

awing the earls. Since erst he lay

friendless, a foundling, fate repaid him:

for he waxed under welkin, in wealth he throve,

till before him the folk, both far and near,

who house by the whale-path, heard his mandate,

gave him gifts: a good king he!

Excerpted fro Beowulf, an Old English epic poem consisting of 3182 alliterative long lines. It is possibly the oldest surviving long poem in Old English and is commonly cited as one of the most important works of Old English literature. It was written in England some time between the 8th and the early 11th century. The author was an anonymous Anglo-Saxon poet, referred to by scholars as the “Beowulf poet.” Modern English translation above is by Frances B. Grummere.

Compiled by SK