POETS’ CORNER

Poems foreverDo not go gentle into that good night 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.Though wise men at their end know dark is right,Because their words had forked no lightning theyDo not go gentle into that good night.Good men, the last wave by, crying how brightTheir frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,Rage, rage against the dying of the light.Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,Do not go gentle into that good night.Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sightBlind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,Rage, rage against the dying of the light.Dylan Thomas, 1914 - 1953AntidoteBy Ali Asghar GhaniWho is she to me? They askedEverything, in particulartheantidote for my depressionWho is she to me? They askedEverything, in particularThe antidote for my depressionA trip down memory laneBy Azka YaminLet’s, take a trip down, Memory lane, A forgotten five rupee note, Signed by an aged man,From way back,Burns my hand; Sear my soul,Reminds me of the merry days passed,When laughter echoed in those halls,Now, shrouded in grief and wails,When he told us tales, of year’s bygone, Prophets, Sufis and saints,Of giving to the needy without complaints,Now, we narrate anecdotes,Of your virtues and teachings,Those endless hours of preaching,That we took for granted,Now, we stand empty-handed, cursing our fate,Wishing we cherished the “Llttle” things you granted,Those ‘miswaks’ covered in dust, Those books never read,Now, all that’s left are memories and wisdom,That I vow to never forget.(In the memory of my late grandfather)Sometimes I wish!By Azka YaminSometimes I wish!For silenceFrom these whispers In my head For freedomFrom this cage Of turbulent thoughts and mindless rage For a reprieve From this worldFull if lies and deceitFor an endFrom this greed That had dazzled my creedFor a heroTo dismantle this violence and hate An epidemic; to which all subjugate.For eternityWith someone benignantIn this world full of sycophantsBut then I remember That wishes do not change realityThat they are just an illusion Of what could never beHallucinations of a balmy psycheYearning for peace and oblivion.Hope By Hassin ur RehmanWhen the dark hits the day,It becomes dominant all the way.The day squeezes its surroundings,Because the dark captures the day’s findings.Everything stops to sing,As the darkness spreads its wings.Dullness takes the place of brightness,But it is only for the true freshness.Who knows the benefits of darkness?As it gives rest to the shininess.Compiled by SKKindly send your contibutions at: uspoetscorner@gmail.com

from The News International - US http://bit.ly/2D5OsWb