Naveed Akram Poems

They support the souls on legs and armpits,
The dwellings arise from the support of men
Who build a body of fine health, is he surprised?
The woman is astonished, the man is appraised
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Whose winning has erupted like a volcano?
The magma is hard, not soft, but intricate,
And it is gift after gift for the lonesome.
We pray and endeavour, pray and speak,
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Pastureland is soft now that the rainfall concluded,
The ley became softer when the storm elapsed.
Exotic yield redeemed the granger and hooked onto it,
Shafting the crows as the payoff, the final payment.
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A drinking glass appeared for the esteeming,
Vexation bit the lips of the cavity so wide.
Squeezing in liquid brilliantly seemed good,
Like eating at home and not restaurants.
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The fowl hang around the present atmosphere,
Coalescing like animals of the air and breath.
They commingle and seek pride, forging bonds
Of heavenly height, unobstructed by the view.
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A coma accompanied my body for this century,
Backstage the heart clicked like a clock.
This century my girls will age unequally
For they have died, and they have died.
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Returning to the mist, a new clown moves,
Fading into the sun and its dreams all the way.
An actual act has been committed by this very same drunkard
Over the pastures of November and December.
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The zooming vision of this vehicle of death
I call a car: one of the latest inventions
Of an era that seeks living and learning of death
And life. Properness shall lead the vehicles to heaven
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The blanket and a book, what is there?
One you sleep in, one you share.
Enough water and ice in the making,
Giving some of the bellyaching.
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