POETS’ CORNER

Man of Present AgeIn intricacies of his thoughtHe is embroiled; is clear and plain,So he is not as yet awareOf what is loss and what is gain.Man has harnessed rays of the Sun,Much gain from them he has drawn,But he cannot transform the darkAnd dismal night of life to dawn.(Excerpted from Iqbal’s Zamaana-e haazir ka insaan, Zarb-e Kaleem; translation by Syed Akbar Ali Shah)The atrophy of an intellectual mindBy SBH Jafri Every day is a nightEvery night is a dayNightmares become daydreamsDaydreams become nightmaresThe thoughts that were comelyTurned inimical after a timeHolding the parametersOf both ends of my mindMeasuring the depths of such thoughtsWhispers encircled my mind aloud:“Refrain from knowing the unknownThe depth is fathomlessTry not to harm the entity you possess.”Still, intrigued of knowing the unknown,An unfathomed void,The nebulae of inimical dreams,The austerity of tawdry thoughts,The giddiness of volatile senses,And, the atrophy of an intellectual mind.One night of rainBy Maheen BatoolThe warmth from the sun feels weird todayI’m not used to being okayThose nights I couldn’t stop cryingWhere they all an illusionJust one night of rainBut it still holds me like glueI won’t cry over your goodbyesYou were only an illusionCrying over youWas just like one night of rainThe sun’s shinning todayI say my farewellAnd start the dayOne night of rainBy Mashaal FaridThat bud embedded in the bosom of terra firma,For ages revered; as blessed miracleWere about to devour the pride of peeksBut got wretched by the unthought stormAnd pale grew thy cheeks...It’s them, wavesBy Laraib ZakirI am the rumour, the waves bring.Crashing, they tell you how stone cold I have been.Thrashing the shore with wrath, they tell you how distraught my demeanour has been.Whipping at the skies above, they tell you I stare into nothingness.Collapsing against the wild winds, they tell you about the thorns that I carry.Defeating the horizons, they tell you I walk away.I am the rumour, the waves bring.It’s them, wavesBy Laraib ZakirI am the rumour, the waves bring.Crashing, they tell you how stone cold I have been.Thrashing the shore with wrath, they tell you how distraught my demeanour has been.Whipping at the skies above, they tell you I stare into nothingness.Collapsing against the wild winds, they tell you about the thorns that I carry.Defeating the horizons, they tell you I walk away.I am the rumour, the waves bring. A cold walkBy Mashaal FaridAnd these crispy notes; crippledTurned to gold shades.In the retailing amber orchids,From the pale fantasies of mosaic allegories...to hectic endingsI progressed my pilgrimage to your city.Black soulBy Ali Asghar GhaniBehinda beautiful piece of writingwe will finda soulteeming withthoughts deeper than the ocean,imagination mightier than the mountains,loneliness fierier than the sun,Andmelancholy denser than the forestsCompiled by SKKindly send your contibutions at: uspoetscorner@gmail.com

from The News International - US http://bit.ly/2D3Yuq3