POETS’ CORNER

Some famous poignant linesFor last year’s words belong to last year’s languageAnd next year’s words await another voice.And to make an end is to make a beginning.~T.S. Eliot**Dying is an art.Like everything else,I do it exceptionally well.I do it so it feels like hell.I do it so it feels real.I guess you could say I have a call.~Sylvia Plath** Do not go gentle into that good night,Old age should burn and rave at close of day;Rage, rage against the dying of the light.~Dylan ThomasA swipe in sciamachyBy Areesh ZahrahDepression, anxiety, sorrow and stressAnger, jealousy, pain and regretsMisery, malice and grief-stricken-ness All of us’ve faced these pointless threats Destroying our harmony into tiny blebs I ask myself, “What are these trends?”A certain combo o’ negative blends ?Or something beautiful inside dwells?For sure, my friend, they’ve genuine strikes But good are those who positively deal with these uninvited clients They are not a malice, but guides from the aside Each has been sent as a message of success, clearing you out for some new delight So be content and honourably inviteTake a deep breath, sustain and don’t dull your smile As for the positive souls, they are motivation and dignity divineBecause positive is the side-effect of handling the negative strife.ArtBy Andleeb TariqMy eyes keep searching for artWherever I goIn abandoned placesAnd barren landsIn wrinkled eyesAnd crooked smilesIn the corners of streetsWhere garbage livesIn empty white wallsAnd shoes taken offOutside the carpeted hallsThe children of warBy Zainab KhanWe were raised in these streets Chased butterflies with makeshift toys Out in the burning sun Young eyes, brimming with life Mischief, a virtue taught in lullabies By mothers, who now weep Their mouths torn in silent screams Voices lost, misplaced in the rubble Where our limbs hide, waiting to be sought Tell them we’re okay, tell them it didn’t hurt We pretended they were fireworks As the walls closed in on us SOUL MATEAli Asghar GhaniWithin her eyes, she holdsAngel of resurrectionThat gives life toThe broken realm,black and sadLocated behind my eyesTill next time By Ilsa SaherIt’s been a long timeIt was a great ride...Bathing in the sunshineAfter an epic sunrise.Ever seen a goodbyeFarewell to all the good times,It’s not a huge crimeCrying over a few timeLessons that are struck highFlowing over the high life.Bleeding soulsBy Laila Jamil KhanThe heart becomes blackened by shadows withinYou gasp for air, for life, voice indistinctFrustrated by your own desiresNothing anymore sets you afireThe world, a place of devastationWe, the creators of this horrifying creationTrying to paint on this canvas of blackStark as blood on snow, white streaks on blackDwelling in this feeling of emptinessSearching for a glimpse of happinessBleeding souls trying to compose their own epitaphsDeluded hearts, tricked by their own self destructive handicraftsWalking and moving, empty inside and outUnaware of the hollowness of this forayRealizing not that black and white are just shades of greyCompiled by SKKindly send your contibutions at: uspoetscorner@gmail.com

from The News International - US http://bit.ly/2FqXiQE