US

POETS' CORNER

US
By S. K
Fri, 05, 22

Where love is not a second hand emotion ... And nobody in his heart has words still unspoken...

POETS CORNER

A warning to my readers

By Wendell Berry

Do not think me gentle

because I speak in praise

of gentleness, or elegant

because I honor the grace

that keeps this world. I am

a man crude as any,

gross of speech, intolerant,

stubborn, angry, full

of fits and furies. That I

may have spoken well

at times, is not natural.

A wonder is what it is.

In the thick snow deserts

By Abid Agha

Shattered colours of the last spring,

Descend deep in my heart.

Candles of regret,

Lit the dark pathways.

Carrying my coffin on my own shoulders,

In the thick snow deserts,

There’s a long way to go,

Yet, my footsteps swell and slow.

A madman

By Qurat-ul-ain Fatima

The world sees me as a madman

At dawn when no one was watching I began

Running as long as my legs still can

From all the things holding me back

I got get rid of them all one by one

Trying so hard to develop skills I lack

In the mirror I saw my face painted all black

Instantly I screamed for it was not me

I have rainbows inside my heart if you see

If you allow me to be free

I know where I would rather be

A lovely little place where no one is broken

Where love is not a second hand emotion

And nobody in his heart has words still unspoken

I would stay there for a while

By the shaking ground I realize

It’s time to open my long closed eyes

What I write is not me

By Warda Naeem

The one I write about is never me.

It is never a lie or a false entity;

Think of it as skin that is shed,

A piece that is taken out from the inside.

Sometimes a memory…

Many, many times, someone who I don’t want to be

Written merely to extricate it from me.

Painfully, forcefully finds a way out.

But you still believe it is simply me.

Sunflowers

By Zahra Zafar

Thousands emotions

Embedded, flooded

Deep down

Taking roots

In my heart

And I can feel something

Growing, gnawing

Spreading in my veins

Ache deepening

A piercing pain

Excruciating, unbearable

Making me loose

Inhibition, dignity

And above all myself

I coughed

Retching, wreathing

Shaking, screeching

Spitting out

Blood red leaves

And sunflowers

Compiled by SK