Naveed Akram Poems

Homage to your belongings, O Looking One,
You are as beautiful as a foe and friend,
Rising like the sun and setting also,
Much will be my mother’s task - profession.
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Once part of a building you are sentenced,
Passion is your existence, your party of events.
It has impacted you, warned you, and wanted you,
It attracts your body, no one told you the truth.
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Artwork is particular, general works are about,
The scrutiny of an artistic work is immense;
The world profoundly elucidates me as an artist,
The big methods employed are far beyond mere thought.
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It is devious to be relevant on a task,
This task rests with godly men of good measure.
The gods of righteous nature shall presume,
But we strive forwards in life never making sure.
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I broke my life up into pieces from pieces,
My hands and feet walk and feel my body.
The faith inside my soul is complete like him,
Colours well-taken consider me as well.
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For gels and jellies a goodness pleases
Bellies behaving badly, without the little
Concentrating.
We took once an open chest of drawers
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The scene inside the scenes of our masters is wilful,
And actual sin has elated returning trainees,
From these hearts have the boats been.
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Reason saw me fit to fly into controversy,
Flights of passion and wit surrounded my soul.
The enigma stole my feelings away like dreams
Of a makeshift place, ethereal place, joined place.
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When a prince enters a room,
Flowers bloom in full professing,
The engine starts non-foolishly,
As returning to heaven catches light.
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A beneficial attachment becomes the screen
Of vast emptiness and authority;
You have a half of hearts, the minuscule oven
To burn thoughts coming from blood-wounds.
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