In Love For The Night

Slumber in the shades
of your locks is naivete
hence I walk deep in
to the core of your soul
to heal my dreams away
from the piercing claws
of the sunbeams.

Night, o’ night,
why can’t you fight
that big, burning beast
who gnaws at your dark self
bit by bit, reducing you
to nothing.

Unlike you, I won’t
expose you to the perils
of the day; come dwell
in my craving chest
till you gain enough might
to wipe the false purity of white
off the face of the earth.

Death Of Ideas

My laments on the states of ‘poemlessness’ or ‘writers block’ have become sort of cliche as I still crave for a smooth flow of ideas to my mind onto the pen and paper. Every now and then I try to break those shackles but the results seem way below my satisfaction. The poem below is another of my desperate efforts with the same result, I fear. Whats different though, is the amalgamation of a Chinese proverb in the poem, that says ‘Keep a green tree in your heart and perhaps a singing bird will come’. My usage of the idea might not seem appropriate but what else is? So I’ll keep my fingers crossed for better things to come.

In a desperate state
I laid the brain-trap
to catch any of the
ideas flapping
around my thoughts
fanning my longing,
evading my lap.

A poem-bird
came perching
to pick a speck of the
scattered grain
ignorant of the snare,
was entangled;
it writhed and bled

before falling dead
adding to the carcasses
of a few more
lying on the cold floor
of my mind.

Had I grown
a green tree of wisdom
in my heart, I would be
a happy abode
for the singing
birds of creativity
rather than a graveyard
of broken muses
that I am.

Slow And Steady Doesn’t Win The Race

This poem called Marriage A’la Mode by Sajjad Shaikh taken from the anthology ‘Pakistani Literature’ proves the notion of ‘slow and steady …’ wrong. I like this stark, sarcastic and somehow melancholic poem. Hope you too will like it.

“Did you meet Sulemanji?
Tha man in the double breast-nay-blue suit?
Yes, the only one who gave me a 4-door-chocolate-?
Brown Toyota Corona
as my birth day present.”
“You mean —that lusty old idiot
Who was sitting next to you?
And was devouring you with his leery looks?
“But he talked so fascinatingly.”

“Well, I didn’t like that at all.
Looked like a wild goat!
“Honey! Don’t be jealous.”
“Jealous? My foot!
Damn that bloody skunk!”
“Say what you please,
But he is a practical sort of man.
And you?
You are nothing but a pale,frail,gloomy,
dreamy,romantic idiot.
Yes, that’s what you are!
I like some of your poems.
Every body says they are nice.
But Sulemanji is a business magnate
From Dubai.
Last night he proposed to me,
after the party, you know.
And I am marrying him.
We are going to Switzerland.
Of course, for our honeymoon.
He has planned everything so meticulously.
So good luck to you,
and sweet dreams.”
“Farewell, fair cruelty–
That is—God damn you both!”

Moral: “Slow and steady doesn’t win the race.”