Colony Poems

The nobles’ officials sigh, When the storm starts in the sky, For soon or later, It will be too late to blow the horn, All wealth and pleasures they enjoy, Puts them at the mercy of the peasant minority, For

The vagabond was once again on the window, Begging love and asking to open the gate, And the fairy inside the house reluctant, Said helpless she was being slave of the fate, First you peep in the four windows, Starting

A motley group had made an affiliation of sorts It sprouted and mushroomed in our back lane And there was born a poetry club with no name Passion it was for the verses written in Urdu That linked them beyond

I’ m kohl dark, darker than darkness, my skin, coarse and dirty, disturbs you. but you say dark is beautiful! you are “correct”! although I smile, it’s painful. And you get up and go the moment I sit next to

I had a chance meeting with a quiet fellow No, we did not meet Didn’t even share a breath Unsure if it was male, female or hermaphrodite Still it was unlooked for Rising in a predawn hour, ready for the

Sun is to rise, It is morning five, Dew drops on grass, these beautiful fresh vibes. I peddle my bike with eight bundles stacked, On my back and side by side. Woo — I turn the wheels To that other

To achieve each goal, you become industrious, Queen and worker each by roles distinguished. To cause to flourish and be established; a colony whose peace could get precarious, when intruders are stung in defensive fury by your weapons of stings

All braced to face the day, The diurnal engine ignited, Gently revving up, Barging into the quietude Of the colony, With a daily prayer escaping His mumbling lips, As he steered mildly Into the road, To see a car pulled

With the brightness of Sun shading away Today is slipping away into yesterday With darkness hovering deep over the skies Tonight is inching towards tomorrow Deep into slumber are the birds,the creatures, the animals so also the roads,the colony and

With the brightness of Sun shading away Today is slipping away into yesterday With darkness hovering deep over the skies Tonight is inching towards tomorrow Deep into slumber are the birds,the creatures, the animals so also the roads,the colony and

Well and they came by sea in the 17th century. They had the highest of hopes as they did come ashore the wild woodlands. And setting up housekeeping they were in the best of spirits in the beginning. But in

I toil ceaselessly in the Summer, to store in barns beneath the Earth for the winter. I get scorched by the tropical Sun for a colony made sufficient, yet without exhaustion, for my instincts make me efficient. I gather, heap,

What use books, knowledge, ways to see the world, To learn to deal with life, the laws and men? What use to know protection and defense, And poetry, why flags are rolled and then unfurled? for what is it to

Death will not wait. Locked in bruises, I want eternity. Stinking pubes, micro to zero-gravity. Kernel rises like a star. Touch was not real How far you will go? Earth was collapsing. My father was right, Don’t climb to the

I’ve always been optimistic about my Life but now I’m not so sure, I can’t even Think straight anymore… It seems as tho life is just passing me by And I can’t find anything to hold onto No more oh

Rising above my tears and sorrows Being above the storms raging by me Lifting me up to be in a place of glory God lifts me up for greater tomorrows Showing the wonder of His awesome Place of joy and

Ambitions distances thought of death Desires over looks the need Greed kicks out the contentment Lust blinds the relationship Violence forgets the humanity Vengeance suppress the patience Rejection leads to frustration frustration ends in suicide suicide adds to the kitty

A meaningless void, Festering inside of me… An uncontrollable urge, That no one can see… It brings me down, binding me in chains… Though it seems unreal, But it hurts and it pains…!! Loneliness remains my friend, Though I want

As the rain drops beat against the transparent glass of my encompassment yet evoking such peace, how I also yearn for a piece. My mind rumbles in all this mumble, a familiar mania, an ambiguous source of my insomnia. How

The flesh was putting up a brave dialogue. I was willing to play the game. Stunned, shocked, pleasantly sore basking in heat of silk throat, I asked the needles to go ahead and stitch the wounds without loss of blood.

Do I need a Special Day, To tell you what my eyes always say. With you I laugh,with you I beam, In harmony we weave beautiful dreams. The bitter sweet squabbles,the illogical fights, Discussing the rights and wrongs till wee

My eyes tell always: ‘I shan’t! ‘ when people want the hunters’ hunt, yet, in their hunt I have been caught, I kid you not. At times I’m Arthur and Merlin, my thoughts as swords come out and in, Aye,

On a cloud As I stand poised on a mountaintop waiting for a cloud to engulf me Euphoria reaches a crescendo as it nears me Urge all my senses to capture every essence of the incomer I am swathed by

Gazing at the keyboard Then gaping at the screen Heartbeats scribbling suggestions At blank paper of mind, naive Love, a word ringing around like temple bells This is what he spoke, didn’t he? Consciousness went dazed A dreamlike modified reality

How could someone like you? Ever love someone like me… Well you must be an Angel A miracle sent to me from Heaven above as hard as it Is to believe, just when I had All but given up on

Amber your name burns like the embers in a fire, you’re more beautiful than a ruby an saphire, the shimmer shine that you reflect is more valuable than you expect, A precise jewel like you is hard to find, while

I often ask myself why I write poems I am often asked is this your story I write poems in the silence of night in those sleepless nights The urge to write, the pains felt, the life lived, the suffering

Stay in your cradle, dear baby, Never come out of it, It’s the heaven for you, Know it is always true. Like a little angel you are smiling and playing in its lap with frolicsome attitude, Your rosy cheeks are

Whatever happened to Solomon Grundy? Where is he now to be found? He’s in an old box in a old church yard Six or so feet underground. When Solomon Grundy was born on a Monday They didn’t think of it

Her arm was left out the window all night clamped at the pit which throbbed her heart hammering to do its job straining for the tiny capillaries going blue about the nail beds her arm flapped on the growing wind

In the twilight of life There he was rambling Amid the memories he bore Of his life Memories sweet and sour Flow by his mind, Leaving traces of Wrinkled smile There he walks in tranquility Like an old man Rich

If you come to me, I will show you my cupboard…….. photographs, paintings of old days, dead butterfly, dried snake skin, old is never gold, pain and anger…… broken leaves, dust around dead grasshopper, dead caterpillar, owl and mice. moon

When world becomes your very own dungeon, Not sleep nor dreams, your jailer gives but woes, Your praisers, scarce, but critics count legion, Drizzle of friends, against downpour of foes; In fields flourish wild weeds while wheat withers, Your well

Rain the pain. Rain it so hard That it sounds akin to white noise. Feel the silence. It’s so allay, yet not empty! Adore in the vein of downpour. Drench your desire with a soaking joy. Never let your sparkles

Will you still love me every morning, When I wake up all grumpy and frowning? Will I still be desirable to you, When I yell for things you don’t have a clue? Will you stand by me through thick and

Time drifted us, Love lost its charm, Self replaced ‘together’, Ego took over command, The bygone torments its very existence, Wish we could give it a second chance. A magical world surrounds, Mysterious yet beautiful A castle we build, of

There’s something about the feeling i get, when i’m lying on my shower floor slumped down, looking at the water travelling down my body as if the water will wash away my identity, my sins and insecurities that it is

  My heart is filled with strain and sympathy This picture that I never want to see A loose feeling borne out of misery When I looked on someone as frail as she As she calmly gazed the camera lens

A dented version of an old grudge, blackened lips with an elite song, your relentless search ends in a terminal shock, nursing a green wound. That anguish was still there, and the wild anger sprawled on hidden fractures, false teeth,

Old hawk swoops down on a tree, waits for a drama to enact soon. First sun makes a wake-up call, small insects flock in green field, they dance and sing and have breakfasts. Tiger-bug is hungry too. He arrives, gets