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,

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

I will watch the field, but not play the game. Do not want to win the toss, for no one to lose the chance. When you go for the final swim rules must change. The ugly knocks have resumed their

Pigs that grunt With runts who run Horses that neigh Eating curd and whey! Elephants that trumpet Gobbling croissants and crumpets Sparrows that tweet Offering a melodious treat! Monkeys that chatter With plantains on a platter Parrots that screech While

Wondering through life blindly Looking for resolutions, that will certainly never come With no real direction, assurance or assistance Roaming aimlessly about through life Drifting here and there and to and fro Walking down dark hallways with no exits Stuck

Freedom an aftermath of martyrdom,a mark of remembrance, A status of solace to be free from heartrending surveillance. But, Jasmine, the fallen pleasure on the road dust Stares at me with a plea to lift her tenderly, To save her

Wanting more of you in the bed of moon, where present and past were disrobing. The bee stings, O my god, arrange the pure darkness of milk, hanging on persona of future. The yielding was painful, its blankness. You were

You say you are at war You say you are battle worn You say you have gone all dark All weary and filled with scorn You say she took your life away You say you are left with nothing at

She is the color of dusk, Just before it begins to rain. A shade of orange From the setting sun, A pinch of yellow, From the street lamps, A sprinkle of red, From the pregnant clouds. There is a name

She falls in love with you the way you portrait yourself.. She falls in love with all the fanciful words you used to describe her She falls in love with you whenever you tell her that she has a virtuous

Speckled drifting ochre and sienna, sunshine yellow Shifting and blurring edges of scarlet, dozing again The sky blanched through the pink skin of my eyelid Tapping branch of a tree against the arbour Resonates, vibrates, excites the molecules of the

Rose petals, dried leaves and wet earth wet bark of the trees, a dripping lamp post a man huddled in a trench coat sitting on a bench, a cold bench his boots soggy, his eyes damp clutched in his hands

Your eyes Are bluer than the skies Of summer. They shine more brightly Than heavenly stars that sparkle nightly. No finer line Could ever define A shape more perfect in design. One look and I’m enraptured – Captured! They have

Broken Man When you’re down and out Ain’t no friends about Pissed off you could almost shout But no one here to hear No one comes near Loneliness may be contagious You can pick up ‘loser’ if you don’t wash

Farthest you have gone but in thoughts remain Time alleviates sorrow loss hardest to explain With undying devotion you raised me just fine Telling what was right not cross over thin line Placidity of disposition far reaching foresight Helped me

Ceding to all expectations having given up on hope Demons return to accost and at vulnerability grope In self imposed severance there is so much I can take Me too breathe a human total tolerance can’t fake Slack line flung

The Door// By: Fareed Ghanem **** (1) The door; outside there is everything; flags and noise, traffic policemen, temptation apples, toothy eyes, ears calculating breath-bangs, tinny moon counting steps, cheeks which flower with love, ready to pass to oblivion, flattering

‘I saw you standing beside the tree Surrounded by lush of greenery A beauty, that everyone would be Jealous ,to this pleasure, that I see As gentle winds whispers tenderly At nearby hills and through the valley The meadow glows

Did I ever tell you of that time I watched You skinny dipping in Wauconda bay… The moon was full and bright, nothing was Hidden outta sight…I swore someday Somehow in this lifetime I would make You mine… Well and

The spinning of the lattu! A louse sitting on it Derives pleasure from Pricking bellies Of fat mosquitoes! The consecutive electric poles Help the dogs immensely. Still they stand, and rust! The lattu falls on its side. The new waters

Lovers are doomed right from the start, because they follow their hearts. Just because… They leave behind the sanity of their minds. The sheer magnitude of emotions. The scary depth of feeling turns them blind. Their hearts so full of

Winter is witnessing the mysterious slumber Silence is peculiarly sharp and scandalizing. And the polar bears are all happy in their sleep. Hunting is a time game of the predator. Winner lives and the other loses to hunger. Northern Cardinals,

The night was old, sans us; we’re buried within ourselves- We met after decades, the definite cause for the arousal (and virility); A night of talks, old memories and kisses… Garbs flew while she pushed me hard-onto the pillows; Eyes

From the sea they came, With their gigantic boats. That could travel upstream, Through the river even, Into the sacred valley. They brought new gifts From the Sun, perhaps. Their lands were unknown To us, at least. They said It

A river runs through us the river of life With its twists and its turns, and its banks out of sight (early morning misty light scatters these dregs of the day – O! the unbidden tears) The flotsam and jetsam

It has been a long drive of fifty years and odd stumbled,edged,raced,soared,jumped all odds and silly games yet all meaningful. a stint at art, a trial at music, a full fledged love and a hard earned indifference, a gritty fight

Just a sip on verge, man was eating a mountain, forgetting carnations. A peacock sits on the belly of a torchbearer for a credible crime. One Buddha fails today. Turns around and goes back to his princess. Give me blood

Scattered words Are like our living May not mean Anything substantial When used well In sequences With our intent of Making those Sounding meaningful Be it in own ways And share the contents With other people Mend with time On

Always you are mine like a hallowed shrine love season is so fine as you are my sunshine My longing is to fly with you very high in the steamy blue sky what an astounding try Your eyes are blue