Naveed Khalid Poems

Then, this world that to a land of fairies abides,
That to my well-contented day be still
Of unnerved blood in vein to old-formed memory,
Much too less of what I thought, contented least
...

What great things of the mind,
I bring forth out of sight,
Are not of sense impression made;
But shut out in fathom-five,
...

What I can bring to the surface of a page,
is far too less drown'd in a drop of tear,
dried of ink; than what in fathom-five hath sunk,
too deep for woe to tell thee of thy tale;
...

When e'ery fair face that I behold
in summer's prime,
and with disdainful look her eyes
I most despise,
...

Must I speak to thee of my mind,
that from a vanished sight this world
needs no witness of time before I go,
nor not a world before or hereafter
...

O horrible, horrible awhile but to think on thee,
Of e'ery wanton look to morning's pure serene,
That in worn-out time to precious minutes waste;
I still hold dear with what I least contend,
...

This that I know not by what cruel hand or eye,
So damned by infernal grave this world,
Plagues the mind by the sweat of thy brow,
The first frost in the morning dew but in vain,
...

When in my mind I think on thee,
that by thought thyself alone;
and thy beauty's argument more sweet
than in love I love thee so;
...

I know how you create a myth
from out of nothing;
that through insensible transitions
all eyes to the star against the sun;
...

Not mere by those phantasmal reflexes
Of the electric spirits in thy abode;
But while in presence of all that is writ
Against the wall of two lovers dead:
...