POETS’ CORNER

Mystic RhymesI went strolling with (my) beloved in a rose garden. (And) from lack of awareness, I cast a glance upon a rose. [That] beloved said to me, “May you be ashamed, (For) my cheeks are here and you are looking at roses!” - Rumi(Translation by A.J. Arberry)“Unanswered “Mashaal FaridWould it let me grow or cut my wings?Could it ease grumpy motion in rings?Will this shape me or I shape me?Is this possible that rather it’ll trap me?Mind is in salvation of the undoneHeart entangled down under this burdenQuestions that jumble; formed some clotsI’m stuck in a battlefield of thoughts.Attic RomanceBy Sa’ad NazeerThe unsmiling evenings of winterIn the boondocks—-Where regret besmears the horizon red,A woman returns, bone-weary,To love long lost to ego,Sporting the wash of passion and desire, The red of radical love,Knocks at the attic door.What is a silly knock?To him, it had long lost its meaningsoaked in his music, ___Chopin’s Sonata No 2 Op 35___She wanted to rip everything apart,Him; his piano; her own heart,stood by the door like a stranger.Then something ruptured inside her,The cri de cœur was heard, He turned, there was something in his eyes,Something against which the whole red In the whole world meant nothing.Discerning truthBy Syed Ammar AliWhen pain passes through my sentient being,And I realize its transience.It reveals itself to me.And I discern its truth,At the walk, on a lonely roadNight storm preparing to show its exoneration,It reveals itself to me.Like the dust, in the sallow light.Wait a little, till the sanctification.It’ll toughen, and purify and replenishMy decaying being, and my ecliptic soulNow I know it, wait a little.AmbivalenceBy Nawal GulI am blank, but my mind is overflowing with thoughtsNot starving, but longing to eat up everythingSatisfy, but cannot trustNot subtle, but a baffling puzzleKnowing the direction, but still wondering in chaosI am present but living in the pastAlive, but buried in the grave since birthNot weeping, but my blood is shedding tears I know my worth, unfortunately have been presented worthlessA voice so loud, cannot make others heard Know not how to play a flute, but my soul had been sounded so well Willingly bounded to this world, and yearning for another Despite the sufferings, can’t take a hike because I know there is a life after deathRedBy Amna AmeerI read about a treeThat blossoms in winterGiven enough coldAnd frostAll its leaves shedAnd its buds bloomA petal after anotherTurned from deep redsInto the blue, blue skyI sat at the bottomCollecting fallen daysTrying to stop timeTelling myselfIt isn’t time yetThose leaves are meant to stayThese flowers seem vileViolating a clear skySoon crimson embersFlicking awayFrom my fingers Blew with the wind And settled in the clouds Spread across the sky The sunset like always And I still out of breath Pleading desperately To hold this moment In a heart that is tired And eyes that have run dryMy fate looks like my reflection And it is veiled in reds too My blood Our love,An unfulfilled promise All spilled across A winter sky.Compiled by SKKindly send your contibutions at: uspoetscorner@gmail.com

from The News International - US http://bit.ly/2CH7Ec6