The Poetry Experiment (English)

1st

Sleep is the warmest thing
That hovers over the crumbling roof of my room
The loneliest corner has books on mathematics and science
Most of them suggest there is no God.
I wonder if scientists and mathematicians live in houses
Where sleep isn’t the warmest thing.
I’ve got books on religion too;
They are neatly arranged inside my refrigerator.
They all speak of an afterlife.
The word “Afterlife” was invented in Antarctica
By some priest who sold ice-creams.
It leaves me feeling too cold!
Tonight I yearn to swallow the warmth of sleep
That crumbles the roof of my room.


17th

A poet looks at the world
Like a man looks at a woman—
Craving for words. lusting for curves.
I’m an earthen man made up of fragile words
And you are a subject of Neruda’s poetry.
A flute’s song under a dying moon
You can tear open the monsoon clouds
And steal the words for the parched earth
Where the bones of earthen poets rest.

Prison for Mad Men

I laugh for hours.

It makes me sad in the end.

They built a prison for mad men,

With God staring from the top window,

Resting inside the bosom of winter-yolk sun,

Playing a fiddle,

While the world is set alight,

With a fire,

That doesn’t burn.

And underneath the great sea,

Miserable things keep rising from the sunken corners,

Of green churches,

To sing in the choirs,

Of the great cathedral of apes

I laugh for hours.

It makes me sad

The end.

Bloom

Every night we waste away—

You and I.

You, under the bloom of beauty’s fire

And I, under the fear of your passion’s demise.

We play a foolish game—

You and I.

You dance to the beats of youth,

And I prepare to face the cannon of time.

Alike.

Orchestra Of Silence

Why grieve,

When silence becomes the seabed

That nourishes a million sun and moon,

And becomes the throne of your beloved

Who keeps playing the orchestra

Of days and nights.

A beautiful Evening In Lahore

The clouds like intoxicated djinns

Float around the smoldering contours of the last autumn sun

As the birds fly low upon the golden and silver linings

that embellish the veil of God.

The wind is pregnant with a serenade,

Summoning all the unburied spring memories.

It is a beautiful evening in Lahore.

Northen Star

Come! Raise my soul to the gardens of night,

Where the flute whispers the secrets of delight

To the rose that is about to be dispersed

In the moon-dip, the eternal cup of wine.

Come! Raise my cup to the soul of night;

Till the night, flute, and cup dance

Alike.

Decadance

Let us dive deep in to the heart of the sea,

Last evening, it swallowed the mighty sun.

Let us sink awhile, and not drown,

For tomorrow we shall rise with a youthful sun.

Venus

She longed to travel

The silent course

Of the half-moons

That set around her emerald eyes.

She chose blindness over grace—

She became god!

So they made a throne of a mounting cross

And hoisted it high—

Higher than the waning moon.

So she blesses the earth in the evening

And takes her vengeance in the morning.

A lover's plea

Look how strongly the candle burns,

As the hands of time slowly turn.

My heart is melting to your distant calls;

Yet I'm closed to my fate's walls.

If words have tongue, can they speak of pain?

Can they travel the distance of going insane?

Can Love be preached as a tender tale?

Can life be tamed to this burning flame?

Eros

Look how strongly the candle burns,

As the hands of time slowly turn.

My heart is melting to your distant calls;

Yet I'm closed to my fate's walls.

If words have tongue, can they speak of pain?

Can they travel the distance of going insane?

Can Love be preached as a tender tale?

Can life be tamed to this burning flame?

What if?

What If by chance,

Or a skip of a revolution

It all comes to an end

And I find a resting spot

Not perched and awaiting

On that great tree of eternity?

Would they say that they’d known a man

They miss whilst they drink

Or tie their tired spirits

To that wild steed of laughter

Running mad and empty

Treading fears and empty hopes?

Would all the women I’d loved,

Think about me sometimes

After making mad mad love

That they owed to me

And believe that the world they breathe in

Is godless and cruel

As my biter untamed expression?

Or would I simply be replaced

Forgotten and buried

By another soul

Who would dance and sing

Oblivious to its end ?

The Stealer

She met such a stealer yesterday--

A dealer in petty words!

Oblivious to his stealthy ways,

She let him rob all what was worth.

He crept into her soul slowly,

Through the stairways of vacant eyes

And whispered those musical lies,

Till his broken dreams were hers.

Joy

Infuse my heart with the joy

That brightens up the day with a lark’s song

And kindles the summer nights with sparkling dreams

Of floating in the airs of weightless thoughts

And stealing the silver from the oblivious moon

Till eternity falls with its golden waves

And weaves the roads to the beloved's throne

Whereupon the piper would lead us home.

Lord! Infuse my heart with such joy.