Rehan Hyder Poems

Besmeared I see
Career and countenance
On the stony contours
Of her face
...

[To my dearest expatriate Pakistanis for disseminating the media’s tutored beliefs about Pakistan]

I have my one breath trudging...
to catch up on next
...

missed you
in pauses when foetus of thought
aborted and word went down the drain
and could not lodge itself in loft
...

I often let it slip through
the roughened irony of my palms,
and then some nights,
I clutch it tight
...

subtle; rather muffled is the rustle
when hungering begging fingers
slide underneath haughty parting ones
...

I offer myself as…… clay
Spiky spine of ego removed
Make me unmake me
Knead me into deformities
...

I can see a pail of moon
Spilled over your head
Long rivulets of moonlight dripping
Touching the terra firma of your face
...

It lingers on
Haunting thoughts
blemishing sights,
It was there:
...

When I touch
Your hand
I feel
Suns of
...

There is a desert
down my throat
For barren were
the prayers I said
...