Naveed Akram Poems

To madden me is enviable by some,
Artificial wit is the cause of all guilt;
My strange complexion speaks my tone,
And the voice has been inherited.
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I am distaste, I am the watcher of moons,
Cursing mystical realms is my carefulness.
The macabre noise burdens my soul like the care
I give and create for the purpose of annoyance.
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An exploit worth the wait is a massive deed,
Deeds and more deeds await the stranger
Who wears macabre sounds, noises of disgust.
The work is redundant since the horror of moments
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An inferior relic of the past has just emerged,
Harmony has just slipped past, full artifacts are near.
To restate the sentence he displayed is normal,
But inferiority has a notion so abnormal.
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Set in the ways we recognise,
The ways of men are not condemned;
Do not harry me intentionally or frustratingly,
Harry me never in this world.
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The morning comes, the trees are in life
As they sway to the body of song such as wind;
Leafless everywhere, the season is fun,
Dangerous is this state of affairs.
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This gibberish winces in me,
Tying knots is all I have to do.
Confidential work has appeared
And my work is solid as silver.
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A breath of air vanishes from me,
Imperiling the meeting of ways I have been;
The baby so schooled in politics
Is now irrepressible and naughty.
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If you denounce my spirit,
The spirit within is so pure
That purity will never be perverted.
Openly, the living miracle has been achieved
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A courtly appearance is along the path,
So fasten your clothes and be glad.
Hands are an offering to the criminal,
Let them be burnt by the fire they wield.
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