Naveed Akram (15 December 1973 / London, England)
The sorcerer enchants a man with sorcery,
A real warrior can cause a war of wack,
Wading into this arena of them both
Is to bother the tranquility of our being.
Wise men say the same battle of beauty,
Collecting wadding for the wall
Shaking a little while with wars
That uglify and also vilely decide
From generals of the highest disorder.
Healing this home causes us to call
For beautiful barges in the canals swaying
As the wind of the ways we call our friends.
The mass or lump so formed in our throats
Must be swallowed,
And more boluses shake the very crowd.
Comments about this poem (Enchanting Crowd by Naveed Akram )
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