NAHEED AKHTAR

 

Typical Inner Climate

 

Like a bird which has lost

Her way; in the night's blind

Screaming long, she does pray;

Afar from the mankind

And looks towards the dark clouds and the Sky unkind

 

I sit alone in crowd;

What a sheer solitude!

Harmonious but quite loud;

That yet does exclude

Like a lender who gives up all his loans subdued

 

Staring in the wide void

I count air's particles;

My sight unemployed

That earns no articles

And I hear no humanly noises in this world

 

But I unlike the bird;

Secluded thus desired,

With all the senses purged

Of the mirth conspired

Listen from above, answers that I had enquired

©® Naheed Akhtar

Copyright reserved

 

Selenophile

 

Transfixed in your utter hypnotism

My being could retain mere form from you

Savoured bit by bit your charisma

Is as grotesque as the veins;

In me absorbed, your aura paints

Acute an image, stainless;

So grandeur, no less than a Greek Prince,

Your hegemonic portrait

Before my dull eyes appears;

The broad fair countenance, with the eyes-onyx,

Emptying passionate oceans

Filling my thirst to the fullest

The light brown hair, curled and shaped,

Like a coronet adorned in Red Coral;

The lips as honest as of an emperor who

Passes his words soothing millions hearts

The main and its every gesture

Left me unmoved desiring their possession

The voice sweetest that overwhelmed further

Yet on the eardrums composes rhythms

Whirling my heart at every beat

 

The picturization in those intervals of pang

Fills tears in my eyes fogging the sight

 The heart is attacked with aches

The sheer aches that clutch the heart so tight

And I fail to break the series of images rolling on

I fail as well to hold the rains that turn into floods

I fail to save the heart sucking poison of its own desires

I fail and how flawless

To survive in those intervals of pang

Naheed Akhtar ©

All rights reserved

 

Devotion Than Wisdom

 

Quixotic forays must bruise

A blaze in spirits; high spirited,

Out of control, to reform the Cruise

Which is, errantly, being sailed

 

Uncompromising, meant to offend

None, but the master evils exist

To harm spirituality, they are subjected

A scream of indignation must emit

 

A poetic fire, that must burn

Wisdom that goes against devotion

©® Naheed Akhtar

Copyright reserved

 

NAHEED AKHTAR